Chapter 13 Harkin
Chapter thirteen
Harkin
The push and pull of the mágikal border washed over me, mágik gripping us in a firm but fluid grasp. It let us pass, and Equinox immediately slowed, sensing safety in the bounds of the Varázis Erva. The Guardians could not follow us here.
Great trees towered over us, so much taller and wider and more imposing than they were within the flatlands of Ordelés. Life there had weakened as mágik had been dispelled and purged over the centuries.
Mágik surrounded us, buzzing through my veins with the comforting hum to which I was accustomed. The rising stars glowed more vibrantly, and colors grew more vivid as we traveled deeper into the wood.
Lingering traces of Tünécris could be seen in the glowing gray orbs which floated through the trees. Wind sprites passing through on the rise and fall of the storm Seren had called.
“What was that back there? What did you do to me?” Seren moved slowly as the words spilled forth, her hand reaching for the weapons sheathed to her body—the sword I had saved from the chaos and fitted in her scabbard.
I placed my hand over her own. “You know I can’t let you do that.”
She raised her hands in a sign of surrender.
I didn’t believe it one bit.
“I used my mágik against you. I have the ability to manipulate emotions. I knew that I would need to manufacture an intense emotional reaction to unearth your mágik. You’ve buried it quite deeply,” I explained, watching her every small movement with careful attention.
“I used it again to lull you into a sense of calm and willingness. I ensured you would come with me, so we could come here—to the Varázis Erva, to Acsilla.”
Seren jabbed her fingers into my still bleeding thigh, again. She swung her other arm back toward my head, but I caught it with a firm hand. “I suppose I deserved that.”
“You deserve far worse.” Her voice was steely, determined in a way that sent disquiet swirling through me. “Do not ever manipulate me again. If you so much as think of doing so—I swear to the Goddesses—I will flay the flesh from your bones.”
Seren turned to me then, the fire alight in her eyes once more. The resolve behind them wavered only for a moment.
I could not name the feeling that passed through me. The heat of her anger welled within me, but something of my own arose too. Something dangerous—something I would do my damnedest to quell.
“Understood,” I agreed.
Seren nodded, though her expression was disbelieving, and turned back toward the copse of trees before us.
She noticed the glowing orbs then and froze once more.
When she finally moved, tilting her head to the side, I caught a glimpse of her profile.
Her wide eyed face was lit dimly under the guise of twilight and the vestiges of mágik under which we rode.
“They come from the Tünécris,” I told her, voice soft.
“I didn’t ask,” Seren stated, deadpan. Her fingers twitched as if she wished to dig them into my aching flesh once more.
“You were wondering, though.” I willed my tone into something kind, something conversational—approachable.
“Do you want to know what I’m wondering?
” Seren hissed, sarcasm dripping from my words as they fell from her mouth.
“I wonder why you’ve stolen me from my home and ferried me off into enemy territory.
I wonder why you think I will entertain any sort of agreement with you.
And I wonder how long it’ll take before I can sink my sword through your chest and send your soul to the Underworld.
Is that clear enough for you, Harkin Aranti? ”
I was rendered speechless as we emerged into a small clearing.
Trees ringed us in a near perfect circle, the earth soft and springy. It all seemed too safe, too gentle beneath the echo of her harsh words.
And I couldn’t even blame her. I had severed her from her life without a second thought for how she would truly feel.
I was losing my touch.
Night fell over the forest, shafting moonlight down upon us. It lit our path and limned us in a soft blue-white.
“We’ll stop here for the night and continue on in the morning. There is a cottage at the edge of the kingdom where your training will commence. I’ll explain everything, Seren. I’ll help you understand.” I pulled Equinox to a halt and dismounted, careful not to jostle Seren as I unseated.
She slid to the ground beside me. I watched her shutter her expression, smoothing over the exhaustion and overwhelm she inevitably felt. “I do not want to understand.”
I felt her refusal in every loudly silent movement. I sensed her fear and anger and hatred rising again just below the surface, and I itched to quell her troubles.
I forced myself to leave her be.
Seren shivered violently, great clouds of hot breath unfurling into the pale moonlight.
I removed my pack from Equinox, rifling through until I found the spare cloak and trousers I had packed. The cottage was fully stocked with everything Seren would need, but I would not let her freeze tonight. “You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold.”
She gave me a tight nod as I pushed the bundle into her hands. At least she was smart enough to protect her own health, even if she was reluctant to accept anything from me.
I busied myself with Equinox so she could strip her soiled clothing in privacy.
Muttered curses and the heavy sound of wet fabric hitting the earth broke the silence. I spared her the briefest of glances as I built a fire. Her cheeks were flushed red, with cold and embarrassment in equal measure.
She tugged at the cloak, wrapping it around her bare shoulders, and I cursed myself for not bringing a spare tunic. As it was, the trousers were mine and far too large on her smaller frame. There was nothing to be done for it now.
“You can’t go back,” I told her, fearing she would try to flee in the night.
She laughed, low and dangerous. “You think I don’t know that?”
“You won’t survive this forest without me,” I cautioned.
“Well, you certainly are sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Seren narrowed her eyes at me. They sparkled wickedly in the firelight.
“The Varázis Erva isn’t like the woods in Ordelés. We aren’t alone here, Seren, and you need to stay close.” I brushed my cold fingers over the healing gash at my hip. The foxlike faces of the manók flashed across my vision.
“And what if I’d like to take my chances?” Seren asked, but defeat laced through her tone—dragged at the line of her shoulders.
“Stay close,” I whispered.
We settled in for the night, lying in beds of supple moss. Drawing our cloaks tightly around our bodies, we nestled close to the fire.
The flames roared between us, and neither of us spoke as the moon crested the night sky. Silver light turned her gaze metallic—sword sharp.
She watched me, calculating, before finally looking away.
Seren laid in the grass, eyes locked on the sky as I had seen her days prior. Her carefully placid expression had broken and was laced with anguish. A single tear blinked from the corner of her eye, tracing her temple and falling into her hair—brown turned black beneath the cover of darkness.
Surely she could feel my gaze upon her, but she did not turn—did not waver from her communion with the stars—and, eventually, my mind quieted.
I awoke to the slightest sound. Had it been the creak of the branches? Or the rustle of the wind? I blinked through my sleep-addled thoughts.
My vision cleared, and Seren loomed over me. She held a wicked dagger, the curved blade glinting in the moonlight as it angled over my prone form.
But Seren was not looking at me. Her eyes were locked on something in the distance, and her scream carved through the night, sharper than any blade.
I scrambled to my feet, tangling my legs in the long cloak I wore. My stomach dropped, a free fall in my middle. My weapon was already in hand as I righted myself.
The firelight burned low, but the first echo of dawn lit the sky above. The forest was awash in shades of gray.
Seren scrambled backwards, face wrought with fear.
Her heartbeat pounded alongside my own, so strong I could feel it in my own chest. She brandished a dagger in one hand as she drew her sword with the other.
The borrowed cloak barely clung to her bare shoulder, rough fabric lost on smooth skin. The line of her collarbone mocked me.
I forced myself to look away.
Before her was a wraith, one of the Sziravit. Its pallid, hazy form twitched through and around the looming trees. The wraith painted a fearsome picture, reaching toward Seren with long-nailed hands. Matted, dirty hair streamed out behind it as it moved ever closer.
“Seren, calm yourself. Wraiths feed on fear and enjoy leading humans away from their paths. If you succumb to your terror, it will do just that.” Seren did not take her eyes off the creature nor did her fear abate.
I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. Her skin was cold, but the blood beneath was undeniably hot. My thumb stroked once across the fragile veins before she tore herself away, raising her sword once more.
“Sziravit are not known to attack when they are outnumbered. Do not give it a chance to change its mind.” I threw a scowl in the wraith's direction, raising my own blade for good measure. I was unwilling to tempt fate.
Seren did not respond, her breaths overloud in the darkness.
“Do not look at it. Look at me.” My fingers curled around her chin, skimming the line of her jaw. I tilted her face toward mine. Then, to the wraith, “Be gone, Sziravit. There is nothing for you here.”
With a chilling, toothy smile, the wraith shuddered forward—close, and closer still.
The Sziravit smelled of rotting earth and stale clothes—fetid in my nose, vile in my mouth. It cracked open its jagged-toothed maw—inhaled the bouquet of our fear.
It ran a knobby finger along Seren’s bare throat, and she screamed with bloodcurdling urgency.
Seren tore herself from my side, launching at the wraith with brutal intent. Her sword cut through the air with a piercing whistle, catching purple dawn on its tilted face.
The wraith wailed as her blade sliced through bone, pairing the meat from its ribs. It stumbled back, growling an eerie rattle.
“Be gone!” I repeated, raising my own weapon with menace.
Wind whipped around us, tugging at my cloak and sending dark hair flying. It sucked at the Sziravit, drawing it further from us as I urged the breeze into a tempest.
I wrapped my arms around Seren, holding her close against the storm of my own creation. Her fingers closed around my neck, tight enough that I wondered for the briefest moment if she was merely holding on, or strangling the life from me.
The wraith could hold on no longer. It melted into the shadows of the slowly brightening woods. I heard the clicking of its claws—a scrape against bark and stone—long into the dark.
Seren breathed a gasping sigh of relief, allowing me to hold her for a moment longer before remembering herself and wrenching her chin from my grasp.
“Touch me again and find your fingers detached from your palm,” she spat, stomping across the clearing.
“Is it all Rázuri that you hate, or am I a special case?” I asked, dousing the dregs of the fire and gathering my things. My tone was teasing, yet I couldn’t help but think of how I had woken with her perched above me, weapon raised as if to sink it into my flesh.
“I despise all Rázuri for their crimes against me and my people.” Seren turned to face me, a cold smile on her face. “But, as it turns out, I hate you most of all.”
“Would now be a bad time to point out that they aren’t your people?” The reproach on her face was answer enough. “Right. We’ll broach that topic again later.”
Seren ignored me, pointedly. Her hands reached for Equinox, fingertips ghosting over the horse’s soft muzzle.
The mare, usually standoffish to everyone but me, leaned into Seren’s touch. Equinox snorted happily, letting Seren stroke her mane and tickle the bottom of her chin.
She seemed at ease for the first time since I had met her.
“Her name is Equinox. It seems she is quite taken with you.”
Seren ignored me, speaking to the horse instead. “Such a stately name for a sweet girl like you. Shall I call you Quin, then?”
I laughed humorlessly, annoyance rising unbidden. “Equinox has no need of a nickname.”
“What gave you the impression that I was talking to you?” Seren wore her mask of indifference once more. She did not look at me with the fury she had after I had used my mágik on her. She did not look at me with the vacancy I never desired to see upon her features again.
She looked at me, now, like I was nothing.
My traitorous heart skipped a single beat at the thought.
Seren pulled herself into the saddle, still murmuring sweetly to my horse.
“Right,” I grumbled.