Chapter 14 #2
One dark brow rises, and he lifts his chin. He gives me a once-over that—if I’m not mistaken—holds a twinkle of admiration despite his eyes being filled with barely bridled irritation.
“You have fire in you,” he says. “I don’t despise it.”
I scoff. “You called me a cursed woman.”
“Because you seem to have a way of vexing me with that smart mouth of yours,” he replies. “But I don’t despise your mettle. I’d rather have a fighter with me, even if she is scared of her own shadow.”
My anger flares at his backhanded compliment, and I ready my hands to land a harsh retort, but he stops me with a glare.
“No more arguing. I need you to listen. Your actions have done nothing but slow us.” He presses his heels into Mannus’s flanks and walks the animal forward until he’s alongside me.
With a penetrating look, Alexus raises a fist and extends his finger.
“This was a lesson. You’re lucky I turned around and even luckier that I actually found you.
” He leans in, his leathers creaking. “If your self-serving independence is a problem again, know that I will not be so kind as to rush to your aid for a second time. The people we care about need us, and I will not be deterred from helping them again. Do you understand?” I hesitate to reply, and his voice deepens. “I said, do you understand?”
Pride is difficult to swallow when it comes to him, but darkness closes in all around, so I do it anyway. Though it kills me, I give the Witch Collector a single, stiff nod.
An annoyed smirk twists his lips into a wicked half-smile as he sits back in his saddle. “Good. See how easy that was? I might tame you yet.” He thrusts his chin toward the west. “Now, come on. Let’s find a place to rest.”
From my seat on an old tree stump, curled in on myself against the cold, I glare at Alexus Thibault, wondering if looks can kill.
Tame me? Tame me?
Who does this man think he is?
Though I felt relief when I first saw him earlier this evening, that doesn’t mean I want to spend another night with him. I didn’t really think that part through when we left Borier Hill, that I would have to endure sleeping near him.
“You’re certain the fire is all right?” he says from where he sits crouched, knees spread wide as he adds twigs and sticks to the fire he built in a small clearing.
I offer a simple nod. There’s no other way for us to stay warm tonight. It’s far too cold. I’ll just have to work a little harder to keep my mind from torturing me.
“Can we talk about something?” he asks.
Feeling awkward, I shrug but then sign, “Sure.”
“Perhaps I reacted a bit harshly earlier.”
Guilt I don’t want to feel swells. He wasn’t being harsh. He was being honest. My hatred once again led me to trouble, the very thing I promised my mother wouldn’t happen. If danger finds Nephele…If it takes her from me because I chose to be a stubborn arse…
I won’t survive it.
“It’s just that over the course of my life,” Alexus continues, “I’ve spent countless days and nights in this wood.
Even without being enchanted, Frostwater is no place for anyone who hasn’t traveled its ground many times.
I only wanted to keep you safe, and you were being impossible.
Your sister would never forgive me if I let something happen to you. ”
A flush rushes up my chest and neck. I like to think I could’ve kept myself safe, but sometimes, whether I care to admit it or not, experience trumps daring.
This is one of those times.
“Also,” he goes on, “there’s a very good chance we might be forced to spend several nights together out here, so you should get used to me. I don’t bite.” A flicker of humor flashes across his eyes. “Not hard, anyway.”
“Hilarious,” I sign, doing my best to keep my face expressionless, though a part of me is thankful that he seems to be trying to break the tension in the air.
A smile tugs one side of his mouth. “I’m only saying, there are a lot of dangerous things in this wood besides me. Wolves, boars, venomous snakes. Ghosts, wraiths, spirits. You never know what might come crawling out of the dark.”
He tosses a small pebble at my feet, the movement so quick I almost miss it.
But I don’t miss it, and yet I still jump half out of my skin.
The thought of being surrounded by wolves, or boars, or waking up covered in snakes terrifies me.
That’s true. But at least the other creatures he mentioned don’t exist. Not anymore, that is.
Ghosts and wraiths and spirits are just fodder for scary stories.
“You are a child,” I sign.
“I thought I was a trickster teacher. A liar.”
“You are those as well. And more.”
Again, he smiles, and it’s beyond irritating how devastating it is, even with a busted lip. His lone dimple makes an appearance, too, making matters even worse. It’s hard to cling to violent hatred and continue utterly despising someone who lights up the world when they smile.
Damn him to the Nether Reaches.
Though I’m glad the tension between us has lessened, and though I’m struggling to stop looking at him, I don’t find his joking about the wood funny at all. The leaves and limbs in a nearby tree keep rustling like something’s climbing or walking up there, making me restless.
I was raised in a vale. I’m used to all sorts of creatures wandering into the village, climbing on the thatch, scurrying into the cottage.
But the wood has forever been contained.
Impassable. A mystery world I never thought I’d enter.
It still feels just as forbidden and dangerous as it did before my world came crashing down. Possibly more so.
Gods. The best thing I can do is go to sleep.
There are no pine needle or grass beds tonight, but I lie down and turn on my side anyway, my back to Alexus. The moment I close my eyes, his deep voice drifts over the fire.
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you that I’m sorry for the loss of your village. And your mother.”
The moment he speaks those words, I see her smiling at me, so real. I sit up, heart pounding against my ribcage as I hug my knees to my chest. After a few minutes, I finally face him.
The truth is that I don’t want to talk about what happened in the vale, especially with the Collector, but he seems so sincere, and I really haven’t had time to process the enormity of the disaster.
The loss feels so great I don’t think it’s truly hit me yet, like reality will arrive in cresting waves.
I remember what it was like when I lost my father.
I walked around in a daze most of the time, struggling to grasp that he was gone.
The ghost of his memory followed me everywhere.
I would hear him laughing sometimes, or see him from a distance, or run into the cottage with news on the tips of my fingers that I needed to tell him, only to realize he wasn’t there.
Then one morning, it hit me. He was gone, and he was never coming back. I broke into a thousand pieces that day.
“Did you have a partner?” Alexus asks. “Someone you shared your life with?”
With tears blurring my vision, I shake my head, then nod and end up shaking it again. Finn was never my partner. Not like my parents were partners. But for a time, I’d believed he was everything.
“I had someone,” I sign. My hands start to tremble as I remember Finn walking with Hel and the rest of their family across the village green. They were like my family, too. “It was…complicated,” I add.
Alexus bobs his head, as though he understands. “Well, losing everyone you love is something no one should be forced to endure. It leaves an indelible mark on your soul.” He stares into the fire for a long moment, then meets my eyes. “I truly am sorry, Raina. I would change it if I could.”
Again, his words are laced with the most tender sincerity—like they’re coming from a man with experience. Or a load of guilt.
Or maybe both.
My stomach twists. He’s partly to blame for my loss.
He took Nephele, though it sounds like she’s been just fine living at Winterhold.
I still can’t grasp how that’s possible, thinking maybe I’m being tricked, because if she holds so much sway over the Witch Collector and the Frost King, why has she not come home?
“Tell me about my sister,” I sign. “What is she like now?”
At first, Alexus looks like he’s not sure how to reply, but he finally does, with an amused grin.
“She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that’s for certain.
She has an affinity for clashing swords—with me, in particular.
Most of the time I win, but I won’t lie.
She’s beaten me a time or two, fair and square. ”
I can’t help but allow a faint smile at that. “Nephele used to beg Father to teach her the sword,” I sign.
I was so small—she’s six years older than me—but I remember the two of them sparring with wooden swords in the grass by the stream. However, as we aged, more important duties took precedence, and the playtime of pretend sword fighting had to be cast aside.
Another reason for my smile is that Alexus speaks of her with such familiarity and fondness.
The thought of them being friends angered me so much before, but now it brings me a sliver of comfort.
Even if I don’t yet know the details of Nephele’s situation, it seems like she’s made the best of her circumstances.
“Nephele cares for the children at Winterhold, too,” Alexus continues.
“Teaches them.” He switches to signing. “She even teaches your hand language. We have two deaf children who benefit from it greatly. I cannot tell you how many times she has smacked my hands for getting something wrong, though I was quite the fast learner. She said so herself.”
I laugh, but hearing these small details about her makes my heart hurt for a reason I can’t place. I’m so very glad she’s had this other life. A rich life, it seems. I truly am.
And that she hasn’t been unhappy like me.
The stars are out, visible through a small clearing in the treetops, so I lie down and stare at the sky, unexpectedly brutally aware of the empty cavern inside me.
I’ve no reason to speak to Alexus Thibault so openly, to confide in him about anything, but that emptiness aches so much, and a confession that’s been gnawing at my heart rushes from my fingers anyway.
“I have never killed anyone before.”
There’s a moment of quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire. I’m not sure he was even watching me. But then…
“I know it’s a difficult thing to process, but you did what you had to do. They made themselves our enemies.”
He was watching.
“But it was not enough,” I reply after a long moment. “I might have killed a handful of our enemies, but I also killed everyone in my village.”
He stands and comes to sit on the stump beside me, elbows at rest on his knees, hands clasped. I keep my eyes trained on the sky, though he consumes my periphery.
“That isn’t true,” he says. “Why would you think that?”
Once again, I don’t know why it happens, but the truth spills from my fingers.
“I could have watched the waters. I could have seen you coming. Seen you fighting. Seen the Eastlanders chasing you. I could have gotten everyone out. Led them to safety.” I fold my shaking hands together in an attempt to silence myself, and a hot tear slides down my temple.
I scrub it away with my shoulder, but another quickly takes its place.
This is one of those cresting waves. I can’t let it drag me under, but the truth I can’t seem to escape tonight is that Finn was right. I only ever think about myself.
Alexus leans over me, crowding out the starry sky, and looks me steadily in the eyes.
“You cannot carry that responsibility. We all face cruel moments filled with even crueler decisions, and when we look back, it’s so easy to think what might have been.
But you didn’t know to look at the waters, Raina.
You didn’t know.” He exhales a long sigh and drags his hand through his hair.
“If either of us is guilty, it’s me. I left an entire village to fend for themselves. ”
“Littledenn?” I ask.
He nods, and his throat moves on a hard swallow. “You and I needed supplies, but when I left you at the stream yesterday, it was because I had to know if they lived. They were all dead, their village burned to ashes, and that is a loss I will never forgive myself for.”
I’d figured as much when he returned with my horse, and I see that same sadness all over him now. Much as I wanted to blame him and the Frost King for everything, the tragedy we experienced in the vale lies in the hands of one man.
A man I pray is dead.
We’re silent for a long time, until my eyes are so tired I can’t hold them open any longer. I want to sleep so I can stop thinking, but it’s too cold, the ground too hard and bumpy with roots.
Alexus strides to where the horses are tied.
He’s a mountain of a man, yet he moves like a shadow, and just as quiet.
I watch as he unbuckles the gambeson from Tuck’s back, along with the blanket from Littledenn, and spreads the quilted armor on the ground near a fallen tree.
He sits, leaning against the log, the blanket ready to spread over his long legs.
He flicks his thumb toward the empty space beside him.
“If you can stow away your dislike of me for a short while, we might both get some rest. The Eastlanders are far ahead of us, probably inside the construct already, but I’ll still keep an eye out if it makes you feel better.
” There’s a pause, then he clears his throat.
“And I will be ever honorable, in case that’s a worry. ”
My cheeks heat. The thought of Alexus Thibault being anything less than a gentleman wasn’t a worry, and I suppose that says a lot about him, especially since I’ve only known him for a matter of days.
Such confidence is more than I would’ve ever granted him a handful of sunrises ago.
Still. Of all the events I could’ve imagined happening, sleeping beside the Collector was never one of them.
I’m bone-tired, though, and a crow caws, then the leaves in that damned tree rustle once more. In the next breath, I’m half an arm’s length away from the Witch Collector, and thankful for the giant who owned such a blessedly enormous gambeson.
Alexus spreads the blanket over us, tugging it up to my shoulders. Though it doesn’t stave off the cold completely, it’s enough.
Eyelids heavy, I drift, watching the fire’s flames dance between slow blinks. When I finally succumb and close my eyes, a face appears in my mind. It’s distant and dim, but eerily real.
The prince looms there, a bloody nightmare, watching me.
And, from the abyss of sleep, he smiles.