58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Zalen
I had shown Maera the sketch of the stone in her notebook, and she remembered right where it was. The next morning, I had a horse brought up to take us into the forest near the northeastern side of what used to be Aedum. I sat her in front of me as we rode across Damanthus, weaving our way through the trees during the journey that would take us half a day.
“So this stone,” I started, struggling to focus as her ass swayed in the saddle, rubbing against me. “How did you find it?”
She shrugged. “I just stumbled upon it. I was foraging for some herbs I didn’t have access to, and I was curious about what it was. I knew it wasn’t natural, and most of it was buried under dirt and grass and moss with just a small section exposed. So one day I spent a couple of hours uncovering it, then I drew a rough sketch.”
“Have you been to it since then?” I asked, resting my hands on her thighs as she held the reins.
“Yes. Only after I figured out what it was.” She turned her head to the side to look at me.
My mouth spread into a grin. Of course, she couldn’t let some new discovery go forgotten. She was such a curious little witch.
“Then you know what it does,” I stated.
She nodded.
“And did you tell anyone?” It was important for me to know who was aware of its location.
“No,” she said quickly. “I didn’t want anyone else to know about it. Not after I knew what it could be used for. Could you imagine what my father would have done if he found out?”
Likely not much different from what I was going to do.
“Hmm,” I hummed. “Unfortunately, I think it’s already been discovered.”
She twisted her body in the saddle to face me. “Why do you think that?”
“Because I believe that’s how the King killer has been traveling around so quickly from Kingdom to Kingdom,” I stated.
Her face fell. “Oh,” she said quietly. “So he’s still out there?”
I sighed. “It’s possible the captain you were betrothed to killed not only Makkor and the King of Innon but also the King of Shara. There’s reason to suspect he’s now taken over the Shara Kingdom.”
Her eyes widened, and her spine stiffened.
I offered a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’re taking care of it. But I need to find that stepstone.”
It wasn’t long before Maera led us to an area in the old Aedum forest that was tucked within a dense patch of vegetation. She pulled the horse to a stop in front of a mass of thicket.
I dismounted then grabbed her by the waist and lifted her from the saddle, setting her on the ground.
“It’s in here?” I asked, approaching the blockage of vines covered in thorns. I pricked my finger on the sharp nettle.
“Wait. This is a flaki from one of my potions. And a strong one at that. You won’t get through,” she warned. Her hair fell around her face as she began rummaging through the small satchel at her side, the glass jars and vials clinking against each other.
“I won’t, huh?” I asked as if it were a challenge.
“Nope,” she said with a pop of her lips. “You’re welcome to try, but you’ll just come out of it looking like a bloody pincushion.”
She was probably right. Using a flaki potion was clever. It was an exceedingly difficult compound to create and, therefore, a rare encounter. The brew was designed to create an impenetrable barrier of a seemingly endless tangle of shrubbery. Swords and spells couldn’t tear through it, only a counter potion to stop the continual regrowth and force the plants to wither back into the ground.
Maera pulled out a palm-sized jar of the retraction potion with a pleased grin. She unstoppered it and poured the liquid in a line the width of our bodies. The thorny barrier slithered apart, creating a passage.
I loved watching her work.
I gave her a proud smile and took her by the hand, leading through the foliage. On the other side, there was an open area surrounding a patch of rich-green grass. The round stepstone of Odes was in the center.
It was large with a wide enough diameter that I could lay in the center and my head and feet wouldn’t meet the edges. I stepped closer, letting go of Maera’s hand and bending down to inspect the sacred footprint—lined with the symbols of God. I felt the magical thrum in my blood as I carefully placed the palm of my hand on the stone.
“It’s called Horgor,” Maera offered. “Which means—”
“Sanctuary step,” I finished. “Do you know how it works?” I looked up at Maera. It wouldn’t be useful if we didn’t know how to use it.
“I…” she stopped herself with a guilty look and fiddled nervously with the fabric of her blue skirt.
I stood and gave her a knowing look with a raised brow. I knew she wouldn’t lie, but she was holding back.
She sighed deeply. “There’s a human… A friend of mine. Or she was, until she died a few years back. Long ago, one of her ancestors knew the spell to unlock the use of the stepstone. Humans hated magic users, you know that. So they passed down the information from generation to generation, holding this secret for hundreds of years. But Lara… she didn’t have anyone to pass it down to. She was the last in the line of her family, having been born barren. When she saw me researching the stepstone, she told me, and I wrote it down so it wouldn’t be lost forever. She died four months later…” Her bright eyes held mine from beneath her lashes. “You want to use it, don’t you? To kill others?”
I didn’t bother responding. She knew my answer even if she didn’t like it.
She nodded, not arguing, and I saw the acceptance cross over her eyes. She hated violence, but she was learning who I truly was—who she was in love with.
She had been so damn good, accepting me and my depravity. I took her face in my hands before pressing my lips against hers.
“You’re extraordinary .”
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes brightened at the praise. It’s amazing how something as small as a few heartfelt words can make such a positive impact on someone.
“Come on. Let’s head back, and I can let Thane know where the stepstone is. You wouldn’t happen to recall the spell in that brilliant mind of yours would you?”
Her cheeks reddened even further, lifting with her smile. “Fara.”
Our ride back to Kanth was an experience unlike any Maera and I had shared. We took our time, keeping the horse at a steady walk while we talked for hours. I don’t think we had ever talked this much in one sitting. And not one word about the worries of the future.
She asked me questions about my past we’d never had time for before. She knew the overall story of my life but not specific details and memories. I asked her questions about certain times in her past as well, but her life had been much lonelier than mine.
We were deepening our understanding of each other.
“You should have seen the look on my mother’s face.” I huffed a laugh as I told her of the time I got into a mess of trouble with a group of children, vandalizing the castle portraits with obscure drawings. My father was furious, but of course, that was the point and only the beginning of my unruly behavior during my childhood.
Maera giggled. “Is that how you and Thane met?”
“No. His father was Makkor’s advisor, so we had known each other for years at that point, though we didn’t grow close until much later.”
“Well, don’t leave out the exciting part.” She nudged me with her elbow. “What happened?”
I chuckled. “Do you really want to know?”
“Obviously,” she said pointedly.
At least she couldn't say I didn’t warn her. “Thane was very small as a child, and it wasn’t until his late teenage years that he grew into his size. Add that to being the royal advisor’s son, he had few friends. Anyway, one day I was coming back from a hunt and saw him being dragged into the forest by a group of teenagers, stripping him naked and beating the shit out of him. I really didn’t care about Thane at the time—I actually hated him because of who his father was. Normally I would have just kept going, but I was still riding the adrenaline high from my kill.”
“And you stopped them?” she asked.
“Permanently.”
She turned her head to face me, and I held back a chuckle at her expression. “You killed them?”
“With my bare hands.”
She opened her mouth to speak but stopped at the sound of a distant snarl over the crunching of the horse’s hooves on the snow-covered path.
I gently tugged on the reins I was holding around Maera’s waist, bringing the horse to a stop so we could listen more easily.
Another snarl. It sounded weak but that could have been from the distance.
“What is that?” Maera asked quietly.
“I have no idea.” I shook my head. But my interest was piqued.
I led the horse off the path, following the melancholic sound.
“Zalen,” Maera hissed in a whisper. “What are you doing? You don’t know what it is.”
“Not yet.” I shrugged.
“Well,” she scoffed. “Aren’t you afraid it’s something dangerous?”
Oh, my little witch. You still don’t understand.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing behind her ear. “I have nothing to be afraid of when I’m the most dangerous thing here. ”
She shivered. “So, what—you don’t have any fears?”
I reached around and gripped her chin, turning her head and gazing into her eyes. “Just one.”
One so paralyzing I would do anything to avoid ever encountering it.
After several minutes of winding through the trees, we came upon a grotesque scene, and Maera gasped. Even my eyes widened at the sight.
A large snow leopard lay on the forest floor, nearly dead and snarling at the pain of a gaping hole in its chest. I had never seen one, only heard of their kind being up in the northern mountains of Innon. They were extremely rare. There were wounds from bites and claw marks all over its body, and it was unable to continue, having created a wide trail of blood from where it had crawled and fallen here. She was bleeding out.
A young cub, maybe only a few weeks or months old, raised its head from behind her.
“Oh, the poor thing,” Maera said and slowly got off the horse.
I quickly hopped down, holding my arm out in front of her to stop her from approaching the animals. “Let me take care of the mother first.”
“Take care of her?”
“Give her a merciful death.”
“You’re not going to try to save her?” she asked sternly.
I softened my voice. “She’s beyond saving. It would only prolong her suffering.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll make it quick. Stay here,” I said firmly.
I slowly crept forward, so as not to startle the cub, and crouched down in front of its mother. Her eyes were open, glazed with a milky-white sheen as she waited for death. I gathered the large head into my hands, careful to keep the mouth facing away from me. Her skull was as large as my lap. The white fur was soft beneath my fingers as I orientated my hands on either side of her head. With a sudden jerk, I twisted, snapping her neck. She released a final breath, then her chest was still.
I glanced back at Maera, who was tense with worry, and I nodded my head. Her shoulders dropped, and she stepped forward, walking around the carcass. She tenderly collected the cub in her arms.
“She’s so thin,” Maera said, looking over the orphaned animal.
I rose to a stand. “It won’t survive without its mother,” I said and extended my hand toward her.
Maera looked at my hand as if it was offensive and leaned back away from me. “What are you going to do with her?”
“Kill it so it doesn’t suffer by starving to death or getting mauled by another creature. It’s more merciful this way. It will be painless. I promise,” I offered softly.
She gazed down at the cub, stroking its head and holding it closer to the warmth of her chest.
Don’t pet the beast or you’ll want to keep it.
She looked back to me, raising her chin stubbornly. “I’m keeping her,” she said sternly, leaving no room for argument.
I rolled my eyes, knowing I shouldn’t have let her touch the damn thing.
Maera raised her brows. “Are you going to deny me saving a life? I think it’s only fair after so many you’ve taken.”
I sighed heavily and dropped my arm, but I couldn’t help the side of my mouth from lifting. “No. I’ll deny you nothing.”
“Good. Because I was going to keep her anyway. It’s what you get for killing my parents,” she quipped with a grin.
I chuckled and gestured for her to return to the horse. I picked her up and set her on the saddle while she held the cub, then climbed up behind her. Reaching around to grab the reins, the cub snapped its sharp little teeth at me, and I glared at it.
“Am I going to have to get you a new pet for everyone I kill?” I drawled playfully, leading us out of the forest and back to Kanth, leaving the dead mother behind for nature to consume.
“Is that a problem?” she asked in a sweet tone, nuzzling the leopard with her nose.
“No. I just don’t think the castle is big enough. We might have to expand.”
She stiffened for a moment, realizing what I meant, but then relaxed at the touch of my lips on her cheek. “I suppose I can live with that.”