13 #3
During my watch, I sit huddled in my cloak with Vawn’s cloaked body curled around me to share heat.
The upper layers of the blood ivy glow ruby-red for the first part of the night, flush with the sunshine they absorbed during the day.
The light fades later, but the moon is out, which provides me with some light.
Unfortunately it also makes us more visible to any patrols on carpets or wyverns.
Once, shortly after midnight, I spot a large object in the sky, and I wake Vawn so we can both activate our stealth glyphs if necessary. But the entity, whatever it is, turns westward and doesn’t approach our camp.
Vawn takes the next watch, and I curve my body around his seated form. Normally the cold would keep me awake, but I’m too exhausted. I fall into a dead sleep.
The next day passes like a screech of nails on glass, like raw nerve endings ground between stones.
By the time Vawn and I reach the trail leading into the canyon, we are grimy, sweaty, and hollow-eyed, bleeding from multiple shallow wounds.
The cut on the back of my left wrist has been opened so many times to feed my glyphs that it’s horribly inflamed, bruised around the edges.
Before long, I fear it might begin to ooze pus rather than blood.
“This path is kept clear by the Forestry Guard, so it should be safe.” I take two steps onto it, and my ankles wobble.
Vawn takes my elbow, steadying me. “You need rest and healing. Your wrist—”
“I’m fine. You’re tired and injured too.” I start to trudge ahead, but he pulls me around to face him.
“Forsythia.” There’s tragedy in his eyes, an ache that encompasses everything we’ve endured on this journey. “What you’ve done for me—I can never repay you.”
“I’m not doing it for payment. Well… some payment would be nice. I could use the money.”
“You’ll have it. Whatever you need and more.”
“Money isn’t the only reason, though.” I keep walking, and he follows me along the narrow trail.
“This is what I trained for. This is my first job, and I want to complete it. Besides, it impacts the future of the kingdom. Once we get you to safety, we can figure out who tried to destroy the royal family and who plans to assume control in their place. We’ve had no reliable news for a while. ”
“And you think we’ll find news in this small mountain village?”
“The weavers travel on carpets fast and frequently. I’m sure they’ll have some current information.”
“Perhaps. Though I’m not sure I want to know it.”
I glance back at him. “You don’t want to know the details of how your family died?”
“That, and I’d rather not be responsible for the entire kingdom. I don’t want to be the last hope for my line. I’m not kingly material.” He chuckles ruefully. “You of all people should know that.”
I chew my lip, trying to ignore the burning of my thighs as we climb the upward slant of the trail. “You’re more capable than you think. Look at everything you’ve done since we left the Lyre & Vice.”
“It has been an adventure,” he admits. “I’m shocked that we’re both still alive.”
“And we survived, not just because of me or the carpet, but because of you.”
“Syth, darling, are you admitting that I saved your life? Are you thanking me?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “I wouldn’t go that far. You’re also a pain in my ass.”
“I could be a pleasure in your ass.” When I whirl around to stare at him, he snickers. “Sorry, lovely, I had to.”
“Did you? Because that sort of talk will make people think you’re not kingly material.”
“I know, I know. I must try not to be myself anymore.”
The thought saddens me, weighing my steps as we struggle along the gradual rise of the path. Have I begun to like the prince for who he is? Fates forbid.
“Syth.” Vawn touches my elbow again. “Look.”
His arm sweeps outward, gesturing to the view.
In the vast landscape of the Red Mountains, we are two tiny creatures perched on the sheer wall of a massive canyon.
Before us spread countless forested slopes.
Their horror is hidden, cloaked by a canopy of scarlet and purple, rendered softly hazy by the warm glow of sunset.
Jagged peaks rise above the trees like fangs, warm and brown from the lingering rays, yet blanketed white on the northern side.
The sky is mostly clear, but a few slow, heavy clouds glide overhead. As we stand still, struck silent by the magnificence of the view, flurries sift down from those clouds, each tiny flake dancing winsome and wild in the mountain breeze.
I have never smelled air so fresh, nor seen anything so vastly beautiful. We have stepped above the immediate danger, beyond the torture of the past two days, and I can breathe again.
When I look at Vawn, he’s watching me admire the landscape, a pleased smile softening his features.
Without his urging, I wouldn’t have paused, and I wouldn’t have noticed how beautiful this place is.
Snowflakes scurry between us like flecks of pure magic. I don’t know when I took the hand that he placed on my elbow, but my chilled fingers are wrapped around his.
Vawn takes a deep breath, as though he’s bracing himself for some daunting challenge.
Like he’s on the verge of confessing something that terrifies me more than the creatures of the Red Mountains.