Chapter 13 #3
I touch the encrusted stones, taken by the craftsmanship of the object, then look at Astra, still stunned that she’s lending it to me. “Are you sure?”
“It’s for Tarlia.” She exhales. “Let’s hope it works.”
I place it carefully in one of the holsters on my belt.
Lidiane and Azur approach us. She’s carrying a bag, which I assume has the capes, and turns to him. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes.” He turns to me, that odd hatred still in his eyes, and takes a paper from his pocket. “Take this. It’s a transcending note. In case you need to communicate with us.” He sounds as if he’s cutting off his hand.
“I… It’s fine. You don’t need to lend me that.” And then, there’s a humiliating reason why it’s pointless. “I have no magic.”
“True.” He sounds oddly disappointed and pulls back the paper.
“What kind of magic?” Ziven asks.
“Fae magic.” Azur raises an eyebrow, looking superior and insufferable. I don’t know how I never noticed what a prick he is.
“Can I try?” The human prince insists. “If it works, it could be helpful.”
Azur passes him the paper, and Ziven asks, “How do I write?”
“Pen, finger, doesn’t matter.” Azur huffs and rolls his eyes.
Ziven points his finger at the transcending note and makes gestures as if he was writing. Lidiane takes a paper from her purse, looks at it, and narrows her eyes.
“Nothing. No. Wait. Hello?”
The human prince grins. “Yes. My magic works.”
Lidiane smiles. “You can write when you get to a circle, and I’ll come pick you up.”
“If it’s safe.” Azur shoots us a murderous look.
“Of course!” Ziven says. “We wouldn’t want to put anyone in danger.”
“Then it’s settled,” Azur says, and I feel a current of air under my feet, lifting me to the other side of the river.
Lidiane follows, also pushed by Azur, while Ziven comes on a disk of ice.
I suppose we all had forgotten about his water magic.
I step into the circle with Lidiane, and she transcends me to the woods near the hills at the Western Domain.
I can see the top of the castle and exhale in relief, glad that it hasn’t yet moved.
Lidiane disappears, then reappears with Ziven.
“You can put them on now,” she says as she pulls out the capes from her purse.
“The magic should last some two to four hours, but it will start to fade after one. For now, you should walk in and out unnoticed. Unnoticed, not invisible. I know you’re planning on using secret passages, but this should help you approach the castle, and in case you need to walk in its corridors. ”
Ziven smiles. “It’s… appreciated.”
“It’s for Tarlia,” she says as she passes us the garments, “There’s a third one, for her. Return to this circle, unless you can’t for some reason. Whatever happens, write and let us know.”
“We will,” I say.
She transcends away in the circle, we put on the capes, and I place the extra one in my bag, then we head to the castle.
We’re still far away and there’s no need for silence, so I turn to the human prince and ask, “Why are you here?” I want to gauge what kind of ally or traitor he is.
He widens his eyes. “You mistrust good deeds that much?”
“Is it good, though? I can go to the castle on my own. Before this, you went to the Icy Lands with Marlak. Could have died there. Nobody risks their lives just for fun. And don’t try to pretend it’s for friendship.”
He tilts his head. “Friendships take long, granted. What would you have me do? Stay back like a burden? The Krastel king sent assassins to kill me. It’s not like I can simply go back home.”
“Astra seems to appreciate your company. They can certainly give you a job.”
“If I’m useful. Sure, I could stay on the island and help in the kitchen, but I hate cooking and cleaning.” He chuckles. “This is much nicer.”
So he’s not taking this seriously.
“We don’t know what we’re going to face, prince. Zorwal is dangerous. Mirella is dangerous. I’m ready to give my life if I have to. Why do you even care?”
“I like Tarlia too, you know?”
My feet freeze in place, blood draining from my face as I recall asking Tarlia if there was someone who mattered in her life. Her answer? Maybe. She traveled with this prince.
He frowns. “Not like that. I’m her friend.”
I don’t know if I believe him, and I don’t even know if it makes anything better that he’s not the one who’s interested.
And there’s something else bothering me too.
“Yes. Everyone’s her friend. Capes for her.
Transcending note for her. Not for me. I could rot for all they care.
Now, if I hadn’t said I was going to rescue Tarlia no matter what, everyone would be sitting and waiting. ”
“That’s good leadership, Renel. Sometimes someone has to take the initiative.
I guess we were all thinking that it was better to wait until Marlak does what he has to do, but your plan makes more sense.
And then once you insisted, everyone found ways to help.
I’m glad you pressed your point, and I’m happy that you care for Tarlia. ”
A huff escapes my lips. I’m still wondering if these two had anything, still wondering if by any chance she still feels something for him. The fact that all she wanted with me was a night makes more sense now. Makes total sense. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s still my duty to rescue her.
“Are you upset?” Ziven asks, perhaps sensing the change in my mood.
“Should I be joyous? Zorwal could be torturing Tarlia right now.”
He pats my back. “But we’re getting her out of there. And her deal with him was that she wouldn’t be harmed. Let’s keep our hopes high.”
“I’d rather be ready.” I wanted to say ready for the worst, but I can’t.
I don’t even want to consider the worst, even if worry keeps hovering over my mind.
It’s a dreadful feeling that won’t leave me alone, prickling my skin, squeezing my chest, twisting my stomach, as if my body was sounding the alarm that Tarlia is suffering, that I need to do something, that I need to hurry.
I’m trying.
We walk toward the castle in silence, and I keep my hand close to the hilt of my sword. The capes should help us walk unnoticed, but I can’t help but feel that someone is watching us. Excessive caution or paranoia, I do not know.
We’re still in the woods when a horrific yet familiar feeling comes to my chest and my throat. I can’t breathe. This time, it’s not anguish.
It’s air weaving.
“Hello, Renel.”
The voice makes me shiver. I turn and see my old tormentor right behind me; Mirella.