Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I was tired of fucking running. Both mentally and physically, because as I pelted across the uneven terrain, my muscles throbbed with a deep-rooted ache that I didn’t have the chance to shake.
Caym was making up for the time he’d been separated from me by filling my head with cawed demands. If I wasn’t so focused on not falling, I would’ve told him to shut up.
Arwyn was at my side, his body powerful and fast. To his credit, he hadn’t asked me any questions yet about my sudden response to the flock of birds. If we survived this, perhaps I’d explain what was happening.
The flock of monstrous birds had to be a part of the trial. It made sense. But I couldn’t shake another image that crept into my mind. It was of Jordan’s body being dragged beneath the earth by similarly monstrous shadows. But it wasn’t only what the birds looked like, but the feeling that followed them.
Something was twisted and evil about them.
Caym still fought hard to keep a distance, although the flock was quickly closing in. Out across the hillside, there were no shadows or places for us to hide within. Even if I turned back, left Arwyn and allowed Caym to engulf me, I got the impression these creatures would follow.
‘ I saw a small village not far west from here ,’ Caym spoke into my mind, his exhaustion evident in his rushed tone. ‘ It’s protected. ’
There wasn’t time to contemplate what Caym possibly could mean about this protection, but I trusted him enough to act without further questioning.
‘West,’ I shouted aloud, catching Arwyn’s attention. ‘We need to head west.’
If I expected Arwyn to refuse, he didn’t. There was a fear in his bright eyes, enough to unsettle me. I didn’t have the luxury of being scared. Gone were those days. If I’d focused on what frightened me all my life, I’d never have survived.
‘Lead the way,’ Arwyn said, his voice clear like he wasn’t running for his life. I nodded, changing course alongside him. It took another half a mile or so until the ground’s incline levelled out. Patches of grass became few and far between, giving way to loose stone and chalk. Without protection from the elements, the wind became just another enemy. I felt every push and shove. Sweat drenched my body and my muscles felt like they were being burned with acid. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t .
As I crested the top of the hillside, the views were breathtaking—or they would be, if I had any air in my lungs left to take. Caym had been right. Because in the valley below me, nestled beside a twisting river, was a small village. Village was likely too generous of a word for the four houses and patchwork farmland, but still.
‘ Hector !’ Caym screeched, almost deafening me with the volume. I ducked down to the ground just as sharp claws raked at my back. I heard the material of my shirt rip and felt the scoring of my flesh.
Pushing down the pain, I spun around, ready to thrust out my power when a flash of blue fire overwhelmed my view. Arwyn was standing before me, both arms raised. He was bellowing at the sky as though he hated it. Circling atop us was the flock of demonic birds, swirling like a storm cloud with us at its centre, leaving us staring up at a hint of bright sky in its core.
The creatures attempted to fly down, their blood-thirsty beaks ready to tear flesh. But every time one broke formation, trying to reach us, Arwyn’s flames grew to pillars, casting them back. It wasn’t lasting, though. Every time he attempted to scare them back with flame, it was as if the crows lost a little more of their fear against it.
Caym flew beside me, hopping across the ground to where I was sprawled out. Every slight movement sent agony lancing across the flesh at my back. I tried to reach back, my fingers coming away red.
‘Is it bad?’ I asked, wincing as the torn material of my shirt got stuck in the folds of my scratched skin.
I already knew the answer, even before Caym silently drew his beady black eyes over my back. It wasn’t words he gave me, but the emotion which rippled down our bound proving that the damage there was certainly worse than I’d hoped.
‘Get up,’ Arwyn groaned, fire deepening in tone to a rich sapphire. ‘I’ll hold them back as long as I can, but you’ve got to keep running.’
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no. To refuse and remind him we were a team. But we were not, in fact, a team. Romy was my team, and I didn’t have room to worry about anyone else. So, before my better judgement took over and I said something I regretted, I forced myself up.
Discomfort coursed through me as my torn-apart back pulled with the movement. It felt wet, but I knew that sensation wasn’t because of water. I extended an arm for Caym, noticing how it shook, but trying not to worry about my depleting energy. The corners of my vision were darkening, my thoughts growing foggier by the second.
Caym flew up and perched on me. Unlike when the demonic birds sunk talons into my flesh, Caym brought peace as he pierced my skin.
‘You’re hurt, Hector.’
‘ No shit , ’ I growled, taking the first fumbling steps towards the distant village.
Caym flapped, unable to control his reaction. ‘They’ve caught scent on your blood. They’ll not relent until they’ve sated their appetite for it.’
‘W- what are those…c—creatures,’ I stammered, stumbling as the ground beneath my feet broke apart. Stones rolled down the steep decline, reminding me what would happen to my body if I didn’t focus.
Arwyn shouted at my back, almost distracting me. ‘Hurry. Faster!’
I spared a glance over my shoulder, watching the vortex of crows building around Arwyn. They grew closer to him, swallowing him and his blue fire whole, until I lost sight of him. In my mind I imagined the hundreds of creatures ripping into Arwyn’s flesh.
He had to be dead.
If it wasn’t for Caym, I would’ve stayed and watched. ‘Don’t let his life be wasted. ’
Caym confirmed my fear, making me sick to my stomach. But he was right. Arwyn had sacrificed himself to give me time, I shouldn’t waste it. Act now, worry later.
It took every reserve of energy I had left to reach the bottom of the hill. Exhaustion was such a heavy burden, I daydreamed about letting my knees drop so I could simply roll down the hillside. A few broken bones would be worth it, and I was so detached from reality, I hardly would’ve felt it.
It got harder to see the closer I got to the village. I couldn’t feel my feet, and the sensation was quickly spreading up my legs. I had just made it close enough to see a water wheel churning beside a river, the sound a distant creaking, when I tripped. Perhaps if I had sense of my body, it would’ve hurt. In reality, I felt at peace just lying face down on the ground.
‘Get up, Hector. We are close. The boundary will keep them out. Get. Up!
I was too weak to reply to Caym, aloud or in my mind. There was only darkness. Feverish pain. It was as if the shadows were inside of me, claiming me from the inside out. My vision was narrowed to pinpricks. I managed to look up long enough to see the hint of a large rock ahead of me. In fact, I recognised at least three before the darkness lingering in the corners of my eyes swallowed it whole.
My senses left me one by one. The heavy scent of farmland faded, but not before I caught the familiar, sweet scent of a flower that reminded me of my mother, although I didn’t know why. My fingers sunk into the churned earth, mud filling beneath my nails, but that sensation soon began to fade as well. But it stuck around long enough for firm hands to reach beneath me. The ground fell away and there was a rushed swaying motion. I longed to speak, to demand answers or beg to be saved.
Whereas my body refused me, my mind was relatively sharp. I knew, whatever those creatures were, their talons were coated in a poison.
Unless Caym had shifted into a human form, the person carrying me had to be someone from the village I had reached. Or it was Arwyn. Maybe he hadn’t died. Funny how, even in the face of such turmoil, the thought gave me relief.
I couldn’t hear or see anything. But the touch was oddly familiar. It soothed me enough to let go and let the darkness truly take me away.
What followed were brief moments of understanding. I would claw myself awake, eyes opening to a wooden panelled roof above me. Sometimes it was light, other times completely dark. I was laid on my side, my back exposed to the cool air. Even though my top had been removed, I was boiling hot.
One time I’d woken with the violent urge to rip my skin off. If it wasn’t for the firm hands that suddenly grasped a hold of me, perhaps I would’ve succeeded in scratching through my skin to the beast deep inside, demanding release.
‘It’s inside of me!’ I screamed, over and over, until my throat bled. ‘Get it out! I can feel it!’
Hands grasped my wrists, pinning me down. Then a face came into view, soft brows and eyes overspilling with worry. Arwyn. He was here. He was alive. That alone was enough to cut through my hysteria.
I lifted a shaking hand and rested it on the side of his face, proving this wasn’t some illusion brought on by my fever. ‘You.’
‘I’m here, and so is your friend.’ Arwyn peered behind him, to a crow perched on a wooden post across the ceiling of the strange building.
Caym. He watched over us.
‘You must rest,’ Arwyn said, almost whispering for some odd reason. ‘I promise, I’ll let nothing happen to you.’
I looked to Caym again, eyes slow and heavy. His voice filled my mind. ‘ Do as he says, Hector. I will not let harm befall you.’
I laughed, which in hindsight was odd, because Arwyn wouldn’t have heard Caym. ‘How lucky am I…’ I tripped over the words as though my tongue was numb and useless. ‘I’ve two bodyguards…how…exciting.’
Sleep found me again, if that was what I could call it. More like existing in a dark place, a pocket dimension in my soul, where something festered in the shadows. Except it wasn’t Caym who haunted me in this darkness, but something else. Something I couldn’t quite reach.
Other times, when I woke, it was not to shout. It was as though I was roused enough to catch words being spoken by a deep voice.
Poison. Salve. Healing.
I almost thought I heard Romy reply, but the voice—although high pitched in tone—had a strange dialect. A thick accent marred with some words that were ineligible.
It was far easier to fall back into sleep. There, the pain was muffled. In sleep, the suffering couldn’t reach me.
I belonged in the darkness, as did the unseen presence. We were friends, almost. As familiar as brothers. And every now and then, as the dreams began, I heard the clicking of hooves.
It was best when I didn’t dream. Those moments were easier. I just floated in a stasis of peace, without worries and concerns. Nothing mattered here. I grew comfortable with the empty quiet. So much so that when firm hands grasped my shoulders and coaxed me out of it, I did everything in my power to stay.
‘Hector, time to wake up, sleeping beauty.’
My face scrunched up as a tired moan erupted from my chest. Whatever came out of my mouth was half a refusal and half a yawn. ‘Sleeping… beauty?’
‘And the beast wakes. Finally.’
‘Good to have you back. His company was making me pull out feathers.’ Caym’s voice was crystal clear. I couldn’t remember the last time he had sounded so bright and emotive. ‘Another three days, and I’d have become bald.’
Another three days. Three days.
‘What?’ I practically shouted, sitting up, suddenly wide awake. There was a faint twinge of tension across my back, but nothing to take my breath away. I’d dealt with worse.
‘Good morning to you,’ Arwyn rocked back on his haunches because I’d almost head-butted him.
I blinked away the light, although it wasn’t strong thanks to the lack of windows. Mostly, the strands of daylight came in from missing patches in the straw roof above us.
‘Where—what am I—how long…’
Arwyn chuckled, the sound reverberating through me like the gong of church bells. ‘Slow down. One question at a time.’
‘You died,’ I accused, eyes dry as my throat. ‘I saw them get you.’
Arwyn lifted a single brow, his shoulders shrugging. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’
I blinked rapidly, trying to steady my vision. Then came the smell, the hot and heavy stench of shit. It was everywhere. Caym distracted me by flying down from the rafters and hopping at my side. He ruffled his blue-black feathers then rubbed his face against my thigh. The gesture was subtle, and yet it almost broke me.
‘Not disappointed, just confused.’
‘Understandably,’ Arwyn said. ‘You’ve missed a few days, although not much has happened beside waiting for you to get better.’
‘Then get answering,’ I managed finally, my throat dry as the straw I had been led on. What was this place, some kind of barn? It would explain the smell, the straw.
‘Not even a thank you?’ Arwyn mocked.
I rolled my tired eyes, suddenly aware that I was topless. Never had I been self-conscious in front of another man before, but then again, Arwyn wasn’t exactly like the men I’d bedded. ‘Are we going to waste more time talking about debts owed, or are you going to explain what is going on?’
‘It’s good to hear you are coming back to yourself. For a second I thought we’d lost you.’ Arwyn looked towards Caym, who snapped his beak in return. There was the sudden realisation that however much time I’d lost, Arwyn had discovered my greatest secret. He seemed nonplussed about it.
I simply stared at Arwyn, recognising the dark circles beneath his eyes, the pallor to his skin and the dishevelled look he wore. Yes, he was still handsome, but what concerned me more was how long I had spent, vulnerable beside him.
‘I would not have let him touch you if I believed you were endangered by him,’ Caym added quickly, before retracting . ‘Turns out he touched you quite a bit. Your back was in a bad way. But harm you, I mean. I wouldn’t have given him the chance before gouging out his ? —’
‘I get it,’ I spluttered, snapping my head to Caym. ‘His eyes.’
‘Get what?’ Arwyn said.
‘I wasn’t speaking to you, I was speaking with him,’
Arwyn’s gaze found Caym, and smirked. ‘This is going to get confusing.’
‘ It would for a simpleton like you ,’ Caym added, his sarcasm matched the witch who squatted beside me.
I smiled, keeping the jibe between me and my crow.
‘So, which one of you is going to get talking?’
It was clear we weren’t back at the castle, unless there were stables on the grounds that I’d missed. If my hunch was right, we were still partaking in the second trial.
‘Well, it’s been a few days since The Enduring started,’ Arwyn explained, refusing to take his eyes off me. It was as if he was searching for something to be worried about, his concern almost too genuine. Of course, I already knew this piece of information, because it was Caym’s comment about three days that woke me. But I decided not to interrupt Arwyn, so I could work out everything I had missed.
‘We’re currently in a small village somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Scotland,’ Arwyn added, although there was clearly more he had to say about that. ‘It would seem that fog dropped us… back here, for a reason.’
‘And the birds?’ I asked, wincing at the memory of my back. I had yet to ask about it, but the feeling alone proved it had healed.
‘The village is protected by a stone circle of sorts. Old magic’
‘ Not so old now, though .’ Caym squawked in my mind, only for me to hear.
‘The village is protected by a witch. She has been allowing us to stay in her stable, whilst bringing a salve twice a day to help with removing the poison in your back. Without her, you’d be…’
‘Dead,’ I answered for him. ‘And that would’ve saved you a job, right?’
‘Here we go again,’ Arwyn huffed. ‘I would’ve thought your near-death experience would’ve made you drop this hunch. I’ve hardly slept for three days, watching over you. Isn’t that enough proof that I’m not the Witch Hunter?’
‘Everyone has a motive,’ I said, waiting for the rebuke to come, which it didn’t. ‘And where is this witch?’
‘Eleanor will return at sundown to check on your progress.’ Arwyn stood above me, eyes falling to my bare chest. I found my subtle muscles tensing as his gaze traced my skin. There was no point being shy now, not when he had been watching me for so long.
‘Have you ever heard of a trial involving people outside of the Witch Trials?’ I asked, voicing aloud the one question that I couldn’t shake since he mentioned this mysterious witch.
I couldn’t fathom what The Enduring entailed. It was not one that had ever happened before—the fact I didn’t recognise the name proved as much. Never had there been talk of demonic monster-birds, or anything happening outside the physical boundary of the chosen stadium. Yet here we were, in some village instead of the hallowed grounds of our castle.
‘No, I haven’t.’ Arwyn began pacing, whilst Caym copied, flapping and hoping, as though he was also incapable of standing still. ‘But we are certainly in a trial. One that is going to test us in ways we couldn’t prepare for.’
‘Our endurance, no doubt. Clue’s in the name.’
‘Little kitty, sharp claws and mind. How have I survived without you all my life?’ Arwyn settled his eyes back on me again. He really looked exhausted. The wide, blood-shot eyes and the grey tinge to his skin showed a man who was an inch from breaking.
‘Call me little kitty again and I promise you’ll find out.’
Arwyn raised his arms in surrender, whilst smirking at me. ‘Not endurance in the sense of the word you are thinking.’
I sat up straighter, although the newly healed skin on my back pulled tight. It felt as though it would rip if I wasn’t careful. ‘Care to explain, or do you enjoy being ominous and foreboding?’
‘Two issues.’ Arwyn ignored my comment, although I saw it annoyed him in the wince of his mouth. ‘Firstly, we’re currently stuck somewhere we have no purpose being.’
‘A stable?’ I asked, hyper aware that my skin likely stank. And Arwyn had touched me, poor man must’ve thought I was gross. Not that it mattered, I tried to convince myself. ‘Because it really stinks in here. Wasn’t there room in this Eleanor’s house?’
‘No, not that Hector.’ Arwyn’s pause only added to the dramatic reveal that was to follow. ‘Not the place, but the time. Autumn of 1563 to be exact. That is where we are currently residing.’
I waited for the laugh. For Arwyn to tell me it was some big joke. But as the seconds stretched on and neither Arwyn nor Caym said anything, I knew he was telling the truth. Even if the concept of being shoved back in time was impossible to understand.
There was only one word I felt had the power to relay how I felt at the revelation. And I spoke it with intention.
‘ Fuck .’