28. Luna
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LUNA
A thick fog rolled in overnight after the storm, obscuring the early morning sun. Benedetto and I stood in the stable yard of the de Metteil villa, saddling Biter and Dawn with supplies already packed on a mule the stableboy said was named Grace.
Pip perched on the gatepost, shuffling from foot to foot, wings half spread, his intense gaze fixed on us. His scales blended with the fog, so sometimes it was hard to see him except for the fiery veins of color in his eyes.
Benedetto adjusted the saddle’s girth. The stallion had puffed his belly and Benedetto responded by putting the bridle on then rubbing his knuckles against Biter’s side.
Then he tightened the girth quickly when the stallion danced and loosened his belly.
My husband didn’t look at me through the entire process. "You shouldn't come. If you're pregnant, it's too dangerous. It's a long trip."
I masked the sharp pang of hurt with a wry smile. "You've never cared about me in danger before. Why now?"
My heart sank. It wasn’t just about the danger. He was questioning my worth again, doubting whether I'll be more of a burden than an asset. He hadn’t sought my bed last night, either.
The insecurities from my encounter with Father bubbled below the surface. Did he really want me here, or was I just a convenient tool for his plans?
I’d been pushing the thoughts away all morning, and they kept returning the moment my concentration wavered.
Benedetto finally looked at me, expressionless. "This isn't a joke. If you're pregnant, it's not just about you anymore. I can't afford to slow down if things get rough out there."
My temper flared. "And you think I'd slow you down? Have I ever done that before? I've been by your side through any number of fights."
“Not while pregnant,” he answered flatly.
Pip’s head swung back and forth from me to Benedetto as we spoke.
I clenched my fists. Why did Benedetto refuse to see that I was capable? Why was it always about whether I was useful enough? Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down.
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "If it becomes a problem, if I really am pregnant, I'll turn back. But until then, I'm coming with you."
Benedetto's jaw clenched, but he nodded curtly. "Deal."
We rode out of Kalion, the city slowly waking up behind us.
I kept my gaze forward, my expression set, but I felt the weight of Benedetto's silence beside me. Why did it feel like we were miles apart? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Even as we rode side by side, there was a distance between us I couldn't bridge.
Why was it there suddenly?
"You don't have to prove anything to me, you know," Benedetto said quietly.
My grip on the reins tightened. "I'm not trying to prove anything. I just want to be part of this, to help."
He didn't answer, just pressed his lips together in a thin line and spurred Biter forward, leaving me to trail behind.
Why was he refusing to talk to me? A sharp stab of pain pierced my chest. He thought I was just being stubborn. Maybe he didn’t trust me, despite everything.
As we headed for the shore road, the fog thickened, shrouding the landscape in a ghostly white. The path Benedetto took us left the main road, following a ruinously old road. I took Dawn off it onto the grass to keep the beast from straining on the uneven cobbles.
No sense in courting a sprain for my horse.
After an hour the road twisted by an ancient graveyard, its crumbling monuments overgrown and half-buried in the earth. From the style of statuary, the graveyard predated the first Emperor's conquest. The people before he came had preferred idealized figures, usually seated and clothed in draped clothing, their expression a serene smile. Not the realistic poses that people used today.
These graves were so old the families didn’t tend them anymore. Or had died out in the wars and centuries marching by.
Trees had grown all the way up to the low stone wall surrounding the graveyard, and one corner had crumbled into a sad pile of broken rock and mortar.
Dawn shied and dug his hooves in before the rusted iron gate.
“Are we going in there?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I looped Dawn’s reins on a sturdy tree branch further back and walked forward. Pip stayed on my shoulder, growling softly, his head swiveling.
Biter sweated and danced from hoof to hoof but passed the gate.
Within the walls, ferns and dirt covered the half-toppled markers, the writing on them so eroded by time I couldn’t make out any words or numbers. Statues smiled at me, both upright and on the ground.
The fog thickened as I followed Benedetto further in and I shivered as a chill seeped into my bones, deeper than the damp cold. Why were we stopping here? My gaze skipped over the markers and statuary, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut. This place felt wrong, like it'd been forgotten by the living but not by the dead.
Benedetto dismounted, moving with predatory grace toward a cluster of graves mostly shrouded in dense fog. Unlike the others, the earth around the markers had nothing growing on it, looked dense, crumbly and dry, as if it could sustain no life.
He reached into one of the saddlebags on Biter, who huffed and tried to sidle back, pulling out a small pouch of dried herbs and several vials filled with shimmering liquid.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Making a delivery," he said curtly. "I made an agreement with the ghouls here. They trade information for supplies they can't get in town."
Ghouls?
There were curses, cast by people like me who sourced from the dark moon, that forbade rest after death. Accusations of casting such curses was why my mother was executed.
Some places became infused with necromantic energy when the ancient wars were fought, and that energy seeped into bodies later buried there and drove them from their graves. And sometimes, the dead refused to stay in their graves– there were those who refused to die and leave their business untended.
Others rose to kill their enemies, or protect their families, or clawed their way out of the grave because the very earth imbued them with unnatural energy.
What all of them had in common was that they consumed life, be it in the form of blood or flesh from the living.
And that no sane person encountered them willingly.
So of course Benedetto made a deal with them. A spike of fear shot through me. Dying under teeth and claws was not how I wanted to end.
It also showed Benedetto still trusted me. Dealing with ghouls carried the death penalty throughout Dimare.
Mist stirred between the graves in front of us, and my breath caught as several figures emerged.
Flaking dry skin covered in grave dirt stretched over ropy muscle on emaciated bodies. They wore scraps of clothing, the remnants of what they’d been buried in or had stolen from the living.
The eyes…pits of darkness, like black stones set in their heads. They glowed faintly, almost with a negative light. Their lips peeled back from their teeth, that frightening gauntness turning their faces into flesh covered skulls.
Their movements were smooth and fast, and my muscles clenched in fear.
"You've brought the supplies?" one of the ghouls hissed, its voice like dried leaves rustling in the wind.
Benedetto tossed the pouch and vials onto the ground. "As promised. Now, what do you have for me?"
The ghoul sniffed at the pouch, a disturbing smile stretching its cracked lips. "A storm is coming. Moonshifter expects you. He's laid traps near his tower, of magic and men. Some invoke ritual to find or replace the absent gods. Be careful, d'Alvarez. I’d hate for you to die far away from here."
A wave of nausea rolled over me as a breeze eddied through the mist, carrying with it the scent of rot and age. The ghouls retreated back into the heavy gray fog, their eerie shadows vanishing among the graves.
I turned to Benedetto, my face pale. "Are you mad? How can you make deals with creatures like them?"
He stared at me, unflinching. "I've told you many times. I’ll do anything to cure or avenge Francesco. Anything ."
Anything. My stomach twisted. Was this a warning of the lines he would cross?
We rode in silence for a long while after leaving the graveyard, the only sound the clopping of the horses' hooves on the dirt path as we headed for the road that would take us north, to the mountains and Ygris pass.
My thoughts whirled.
He had so much loyalty in him. But he gave it rarely. Had he given it to me?
I remembered the way he had gently placed the opal earrings in my ears, the rare softness in his touch. He was capable of so much kindness.
But he was also capable of terrible things.
How could I reconcile the two?
I forced myself to speak. "Would you sacrifice me, too, if it meant getting what you wanted?"
"You shouldn't ask me that question," Benedetto said without expression. "You won't like the answer."
The silence stretched between us again as we continued on, the sun sinking lower in the sky. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, as if it could shield me from the chill settling in my bones.
What had I gotten myself into? My hand drifted to my stomach. And what kind of life would a child have with a father like him?
Once again, the doubts settled on me in a cloud I couldn’t disperse, fueled by Benedetto’s own words.
Benedetto rode beside me, his profile stern and unreadable. I thought I knew him, thought I understood the depths of his love and loyalty.
I’d just underestimated that depth, and assumed it applied to me. My heart clenched at the thought.
The road ahead seemed to stretch on forever, leading us into an uncertain future. I only hoped I had the strength to face whatever lay at the end of it - for myself, and for any child I might bear.
If we survived this quest.
Heavy silence remained between us as the shadows lengthened. I stole another glance at Benedetto, but his face remained fixed straight ahead, his jaw set.
My mind churned with questions I was afraid to ask. What lines had he crossed? The Benedetto I’d travelled with earlier seemed to be slipping away with each passing mile.
I pressed my lips together, swallowing back the lump in my throat. "Bene..."
"Don't." His voice was sharp, cutting through the evening air. "I told you. You won't like the answers."
My fingers tightened on the reins. "You assume that I was going to repeat the question. Have you considered?—"
"No. You think you can change me? Save me from myself?" He laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. "This is what I am, Luna. This is what I do."
Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back fiercely. "And what about us? What about..."
I couldn't bring myself to say it, to voice the tiny hope and terror growing inside me.
Benedetto was silent for a long moment. Then, so quietly I almost missed it, "I don't know."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I don't know. The man who always had a plan, always knew his next move, said he was just as lost as I was.
As a true son of his mother and her plans within plans, that would have hurt him to admit.
I turned my face away, letting my hair fall forward to hide my expression. I could find hope in that. He hadn’t decided to cut me out of his life for my own good.
But with each step, the remembered chill of the graveyard seemed to sink deeper into my bones, a grim reminder of the fact Benedetto knew no boundaries.
Shadows of the past threatened to swallow any chance of happiness we might have had.
I wasn't sure if the man beside me was my salvation...or my downfall.