Chapter 27 #3
We exchange glances. This is not what I expected. When she slips out back to gather fruit for our “journey,” the hut grows quiet, save for the hiss of the fire. The table suddenly feels too small, our strange company crammed shoulder to shoulder. I clear my throat.
“Arden,” I say carefully. “Are you sure about this? I mean—we don’t know you, and we’ve given you almost nothing in return. Honestly, I thought you’d need persuading.”
He tips back on two legs of his chair, arms folded behind his head, grinning like he’s known us all his life. “Seems simple enough. You say I’m needed, I go. Might be fun. A bit of adventure before I come back here and get on with life. The fields won’t mind waiting.”
Remli snorts, leaning across the table. “That’s it? One grand ‘adventure’”—she loads the word with scorn—“then back to digging in the dirt until you keel over?”
The chair legs thud to the floor. He leans forward into her space, his smile shifting, sharper now, all teeth and heat. “Fields aren’t the only thing I know how to plow, Remli.”
The silence that follows is sharp enough to cut. Zillah chokes on her drink, coughing out, “Wow. Smooth.”
Selene hides a laugh behind her hand. I blink, caught between rolling my eyes and bursting into nervous laughter. So this is Arden.
Mama Soli hugs Arden as if she can keep him by sheer force of will. He laughs and pries free gently, but his eyes soften when he says, “Tell Papa I’ll be back. Just have to take care of some things.”
She wipes at her eyes, chin trembling, before she squares her shoulders and fixes the rest of us with a look sharp enough to cut. “You bring my boy back to me, or you’ll have me to deal with.”
We all nod, hurried and earnest. “Yes, ma’am,” slips out of me before I even realize it. Then we’re moving again—out of the hut, back through the fields. Arden hums a tune under his breath, easy as you please, pointing out the patchwork of earth as if we’re on a pleasant stroll.
“Used to work over there,” he says, jerking his chin toward a sun-baked field. Then he flashes Remli a grin. “But some ladies out that way stayed too distracted, so they moved me across the ridge.”
Remli rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t stick. “Give me a break.” He only laughs.
By the time we weave back into the bustle of the marketplace, the air is thick with roasting fish and the chatter of vendors packing up for the evening. Arden greets people left and right, clapping shoulders, flashing smiles. He’s clearly beloved here.
But I feel eyes cutting my way. Heat creeps up my neck until I remember—my hair. Red like flame, bright even in the fading light. I edge closer to Lowan and whisper, “Were people looking at me like this the first time we came through?”
He glances down at me with that infuriating half-smile. “Metra, have you seen yourself? Someone is always looking.”
I shake my head. “Not like that. I mean—my hair.”
“Again,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles against mine, “people will always notice your hair. But you’re done hiding, right?”
I straighten. “Yes. I am.”
“Then let them look,” he murmurs, for my ears alone. “Let them see what’s mine to cherish.”
We drift beyond the last of the huts and back into the green hush of the jungle. For a while, we walk in companionable silence, the forest closing in around us, until the shadows stretch long and it’s clear we’ll need to make camp.
Everyone falls into their familiar rhythm—Selene gathering wood, Zillah setting stones for a fire, Lowan unrolling bedrolls. Arden watches it all with curiosity but no urgency, lounging against a tree until someone passes him a bundle of kindling.
The fire crackles low, and the quiet turns weighted.
One by one, looks dart across the circle: Lowan and I, Selene and Zillah.
Even without words, the tension is laughably obvious.
We’re all holding the same thought, waiting for the proper excuse to stand, to vanish into the dark with a hush that makes our intentions clear.
Remli throws up her hands. “Oh, give me a break. Are you really going to leave me out here alone with this guy? Come on.”
Arden stretches, utterly unbothered. “We could always have our own fun. If the cat wants to play.”
Remli stiffens, eyes flashing. A low growl curls from her throat before she shifts in a blur of motion—fur, muscle, tail—her lynx form bursting free. She bolts into the trees without another word.
Arden smiles, pleased. “Got a decent rise out of her that time.”
I gape at him. “How did you know she was a lynx?”
He shrugs as if it were nothing. “Lucky guess. With those eyes? Had to be some sort of cat.”
The trek back to Elaris’s cave is strangely uneventful.
Arden moves with us like he’s been part of the group forever—laughing, lounging, never once breaking that easy stride.
Nothing unsettles him. Nothing rattles. He’s always composed, always with a smirk on his lips as if he knows some private joke we don’t.
And he never wears a shirt. At first, I try not to notice, but eventually Remli snaps. “Do you ever wear a shirt?” He glances her way, deadpan. “I find it freeing not to. Maybe you should try it.”
Her jaw tightens, and I swear if looks could kill, he’d be in the dirt. The rest of us can hardly hold back our laughter.
I think of Zillah then, trailing along on our very first journey, watching me and Lowan bicker like it was some endless sport. She must’ve seen what I see now—the writing on the wall. Remli would never admit it, but every jab Arden tosses her way lands deeper than she wants it to.
The rest of the journey passes quickly. No danger on the road, no beasts in the undergrowth. Only Arden’s banter and the sound of his laughter chasing through the trees.
By the time the waterfall comes into view, the sun hangs low, gilding the spray with light. Arden whistles, taking it in. “Beautiful. So… what now? We going for a swim?” His gaze sweeps the pool, then us, and his grin tilts wickedly. “With or without our clothes?”
Selene rolls her eyes. “Not exactly.”
We lead him along the slick stone path, behind the roaring curtain of water. He watches, brows raised, as each of us presses a bloodied finger to the rune-carved wall.
“The only way in,” I explain.
He shrugs, reaching for a blade—only for Remli to half-shift, claws flashing as she digs one sharp into his finger with deliberate cruelty. Arden doesn’t even flinch. He only smiles wider, leaning closer to murmur, “Next time I hope it’s my back while you scream my name.”
Remli bristles. The rest of us try to smother our reactions, but the air feels charged, heavy. Arden presses his blood to the stone.
The cave shudders. The rune flares, then the darkness surges outward, thick and suffocating, pressing against my chest like it wants to swallow us whole. Wrong. Everything about it feels wrong.
And then, just as suddenly, it passes. The stone groans. The passage yawns open, as if nothing happened.
“Now,” a voice says behind us, strong as the water’s roar.
We turn to find Elaris in the shadows, her silver hair catching the spray. Her gaze fixes on Arden. “The work begins.”
We file in, uncertain, the echo of that darkness still clinging to our skin.