28. Cato
Cato
We’ve been walking for hours and the silence between Aryn and me feels like a living thing. He’s keeping his distance, but not in an angry, stomping way. That would be easier.
No, he’s doing it politely.
He walks ahead with Ronan and Lillith, laughs at something Cameron says, and offers Taryn his arm when the path gets icy.
He showers them all in the attention I’ve grown so accustomed to getting, and suddenly I’m having withdrawals from it.
It’s beyond desperate, honestly, how I force myself into his orbit, hoping to be pulled in by his gravity so I can get another fix.
But every time I drift closer, he finds a reason to shift away.
It’s so obvious the others have noticed. Cameron keeps shooting me these annoyingly sympathetic looks, and even Ronan’s been unusually quiet.
I hate it.
My life is full of destruction. Anyone who knows me could confirm it. When doors need busting down or a fight is brewing, I’m there. I’m steady.
I break things, but I don’t know how to fix them.
Aryn is a few steps ahead, saying something to Cameron, but eventually he falls into step beside me again.
“So, uh,” I start, then clear my throat.
“About three years ago, I got hired to break this guy out of the military’s holding cells.
He was some VIP tech type. Not a fighter.
They never expected him to run, so they had him in a minimum-security place.
It was supposed to be an easy extraction.
We’re talking ten minutes max, then collect a big payday from his colleagues who were busting him out. ”
Aryn glances over at me. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t shut me down either. That’s something, so I push through my nerves to continue.
“It’s the middle of the night, and I’ve got the layout of this place memorized. Sakane is a fucking genius with maps and routes, right? So I was prepared. A dozen different ways to get in and out, and every damn shadow of the place was accounted for. Except we missed something.”
Aryn’s eyebrows lift slightly, but he’s still disengaged. I trail off, grimacing at the ground. I wonder if I can just bury myself along with this awkwardness.
“What’d you miss?” he asks quietly.
My eyes swing to his. They’re reserved—shut down and so fucking cautious, but at least he’s looking at me now.
“There, um,” I start, fighting through the tension despite the urge to flee from his scrutiny.
“There were these motion-sensor floodlights? They covered the entire exterior of the building, but they weren’t on the schematics.
Suddenly, the whole place lights up. I’m standing there like an idiot, fully illuminated, while alarms start screaming. ”
I shake my head, laughing at myself. “I probably should’ve just turned around and ran, but it was a lot of fucking money, right?
So I do the only thing I can think of and run straight toward the building like a godsdamned action hero.
Meanwhile, the target sees me barreling toward him through the window and thinks I’m there to kill him.
He screams for the guards, and once I’m inside the room trying to get him to shut the fuck up, he starts throwing everything he can at me.
Books. A lamp. A fucking chair. I’m dodging furniture while security is closing in. ”
Aryn’s mouth twitches, fighting a smile.
“I finally get to him, throw him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and start running. We make it out, and this guy’s still terrified and smacking me with a fucking stapler or something when we get to the extraction point.
Bash and Sakane were there waiting, along with my buddy Jayce.
They all just kinda looked at me and at the chaos I left behind, and finally Bash just says, ‘That was messy.’”
“Sounds messy,” Aryn agrees.
“Point is,” I say, softer, “I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. I’m really good at fucking things up and figuring out how to fix them after. I fucked things up with you this morning, and I’d really like the chance to fix it.”
Aryn is quiet for a few steps. The faint smile fades, but the distance between us feels a little smaller. “Okay,” he finally says. His voice isn’t warm, but it’s not cold either.
I know better than to push.
He stays by my side for the rest of the day, though he doesn’t speak aside from what’s necessary. Night falls without incident, but as the sun drops behind the mountains, the distance returns.
We make camp within a cluster of trees off the main path. Aryn helps set up camp and organize the watch rotation like always, but he lays out his sleeping bag several trees away from me—far enough that it’s deliberate. I try not to let it sting, but my chest is tighter than it’s ever been.
He sees me looking between our spots, then walks over holding the blanket he bought in Thralune. “This should keep you comfortable tonight,” he says as he hands it over.
I stare at the blanket, then up at him, trying to read him. “Thanks.”
My stomach sinks lower when he doesn’t give me anything else, and it keeps dropping until it sits like lead in my toes. He looks like he might say something, but doesn’t. He just dips his chin in a polite, careful nod like he’d give a stranger, then turns to arrange his bedroll.
I watch him, hating myself a little more.
The others pretend not to notice, but I catch Cameron’s pity before he tucks himself into his sleeping bag.
I pull the blanket over my shoulders and lean back against my pack, staring up at the three moons.
This space between us feels bigger than the entire valley, and I’m the one who made it this way.
When Lillith comes over to get me for my watch shift, I’m already awake.
We’re not far off the main road, so we can’t venture away from camp without risking being seen.
Tonight’s watch is mostly circling the grove of trees while listening for footsteps.
It’s quiet, though, and as I wake Ronan for his shift, I realize Aryn set it up so our schedules wouldn’t overlap.
By the time the sky lightens, I’m exhausted and raw.
Aryn moves around the group as we break camp, helping pack and checking weapons, but he keeps that careful distance from me.
When breakfast is ready, he walks over and sets a plate in front of me without a word.
It’s a generous portion of salted meat, a piece of flatbread, and the last of the deep magenta fruit we bought in Thralune.
It’s an olive branch. I know it is.
I swallow my pride, force myself to look up at him, and say, “Can we talk? Please?”
Aryn studies me for a long moment, then nods. He sits across from me on the fallen log, far enough that we’re not touching, but close enough to speak privately.
His voice is gentler than I deserve. “I’m not angry with you, Cato. Not really.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He huffs a sad laugh and stares down at his hands. “My head is loud right now. Distractions only make it worse.”
Distractions.
I fight to keep my face neutral through the way the word stings. I don’t know if I actually succeed, or if Aryn is too distracted to notice my hurt feelings.
“We’re getting closer to my home village, and I don’t know what we’re going to find there.
I have no idea how it’s changed, or if anyone I used to know is still alive.
Everything is just… hard. It’s heavy.” His gaze finally meets mine.
“We need to talk about this… whatever this is between us. We will, okay? I just need time to get my head on straight before we do.”
I nod, fighting the burn behind my eyes and praying he can’t see it. “Yeah. Okay. I can give you time. But…”
He studies me warily. “But what?”
“Can you not… shut me out? I know I fucked up, okay? I know that, and I’m trying to figure it out.” My pulse gallops as I force myself to stay there and say the words. “You were right. I’ve been selfish with you.”
His face softens with something that looks like regret. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But it’s true. I’ve taken everything you’ve offered me and demanded more. I see that, okay? I see it and I’m trying to fix it.” I shake my head, dragging a hand over my beard as I try to explain why this is all so fucking hard for me.
“My world…” I start, then sigh. “I’m used to a world where people take whatever they can get.
They don’t stick around long enough to settle debts, they just go.
They take what they want from me, then they move on.
And I…” I force myself to hold his eyes as I give him my truth. “I don’t want you to move on from me.”
“Cato,” he breathes, his face so fucking sad. “You don’t have to worry about that, okay?”
“You won’t leave?”
His eyes close as his throat dips in a swallow. “No. I won’t leave.”
“Okay,” I say with a heavy exhale, then hesitate. “You know I’ve got your back, right? No matter what happens… no matter what we find…”
He opens his eyes and stands, forcing my chin to tilt higher as he steps closer. Gentle fingers grip my chin as his thumb swipes over my jawline, tickling my beard. “You’re determined to burn me alive, aren’t you?”
“Maybe a little?”
A quiet laugh leaves him as he takes a step back. “At least you’re honest about it.”
Another pang of guilt hits me, but his words don’t feel like a weapon. I stand and shake out the blanket he gave me last night. “You bought this in the village.”
“I did,” he agrees.
“Why’d you give it to me?”
He tilts his head as he glances between my eyes and the blue material. “You’re made of fire, and fire shouldn’t be cold,” he finally says. “Pack your bags, rha khor. We have to get moving.”
The nickname fills my entire chest with a warmth so intense it feels like I could live off it indefinitely. I’m exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, but things don’t feel so bleak. Aryn says nothing else as we pack up camp, but as we hit the road again, he gives my hand a brief squeeze.
The path splits, and one fork heads due north with a wide, maintained road. The other veers west into a trail that’s thinner, overgrown, and far less traveled.
We head west.
Of fucking course we do.
The trail climbs higher into the foothills, and what was once a manageable path becomes steep and uneven, covered with loose rock and patches of ice. As we climb in altitude, the air gets colder somehow, biting at my lungs with every breath.
We fall right into the paths of the Viskari, and signs pop up everywhere. Over the next day and a half, we pass three more carved trees, and the last one is so fresh, the dripping sap hasn’t had time to freeze.
“Should we turn around?” Ronan asks as he runs his fingers over the gashes.
Aryn chews on his cheek, glancing around the path. “There’s no other path to Maelithryne without cutting through the forest, and these lands are dangerous.”
Ronan gestures at the tree. “More dangerous than this?”
“Predators were a problem in these forests before the weather changed. Now that they’ve lost most of their prey to the cold? I imagine they’re even worse.”
“How much further is it?” I ask.
Aryn glances around, studying the landmarks. “A day? Maybe less if we push.”
I glance up at the sky, guessing we have an hour of sunlight left before the moons rise. “What if we walk through the night? We’re still pretty rested from the village, and the moons should be close to full.”
Ronan glances at the others, staring for a long time at Cameron before turning to Aryn. “What do you think?”
“I think we’ve come too far to turn around now,” Aryn answers with a slow nod. “We’ll go until it’s too dark tonight, and we should get there midday tomorrow.”
The mood grows heavier as the sun sets. Conversation dies down and shoulders tense, while hands stay close to weapons. Long after Kuu is in the sky, we round a bend and freeze.
What’s left of a wagon lies on its side off the trail, with charred wood and embers that glow orange.
The same symbol we’ve seen carved into trees is painted in white across the side panel, barely visible past the damage.
My scars tingle at the sight of the metal axle laying among the wreckage, hot enough to melt the snow and singe the ground beneath.
“Aryn,” I murmur, gesturing at the gouges in the ground. It looks as though boxes or crates were dragged away, recently enough the softly falling snow hasn’t covered them again.
His gaze moves to my full pack, then back up to my face as his jaw clenches. “We have to keep going. We’re almost there.”
I stare into his eyes, placing all of my trust in his knowledge of these lands. “Alright,” I agree.
We continue on, barely daring to breathe.
Hours pass in silence, and even after Kuu sinks beneath the mountains, we keep going.
The twin moons are full tonight, giving us just enough light to stay on the path.
Everyone is exhausted and breathing heavier as we crest a peak, stopping to catch our breath.
“There,” Aryn says, pointing in the darkness, just as the first signs of sunlight touch the sky. I squint, following his finger, then finally catch the shift in terrain from mountain edges to something man-made.
“Walls?” I ask.
He blows out a long, relieved sigh. “That’s Maelithryne.”
I open my mouth, but pause as I hear the faint crunch of snow. My eyes dart between the others, but they’re standing still.
Another crunch.
The soft snap of a branch.
“Aryn,” I mutter.
“I know,” he whispers back. “I hear it.”
My swallow is so loud it’s like an explosion in the silence. “Where do we go?”
More footsteps sound in the distance, too many for me to track. “There’s a back way,” he says, barely moving his lips. “But we need to move.”