Chapter 28 #2
It’s a good thing I didn’t tell him about the punishments Berttom liked to dish out.
I’m sure he’s deduced it from seeing the lashing scars on my back a few days ago, but I don’t need to confirm it.
Something tells me if I did, he’d take me back to Kalsevden just to torture Bottom in ways I can’t imagine.
I nod as a way of accepting his apology.
He nods back and goes back to work on the animal. At least, I think it’s an animal.
“What is that?” I ask. I can’t figure out what the little thing used to be.
“I think it’s a squirrel. Except it has a tail more like a rat.” He picks the carcass up by its nasty tail, holding it away from his face. I can smell its damp, musky scent from here. “And its fur was mossy green.” He puts it back down and continues preparing it to cook.
“Should we really be eating it if we don’t know what it is?” I ask, curling my lip and wrinkling my nose. “We have the food from the inn after all.”
Caene goes still.
“What?” I ask, unsheathing my dagger from my boot, scanning for a threat he must have heard that I can’t see yet.
He hangs his head and huffs out a breath. “I forgot about the food,” he says quietly. I stare at him wide-eyed for a moment before a loud laugh burst from my lips.
“In my defense, it’s been an eventful day!
” I can see his cheeks turning crimson in the fading sunlight.
I stand, letting my laughter fade as I retrieve the satchels from the ground where he dropped them and toss the one with the food to Caene.
He lets it land by his feet as he gives one last look to the pitiful creature he hunted and tosses it away into the trees.
“Won’t that attract unwanted visitors in the night?” I ask.
“I doubt there are any animals out there that want to eat that thing,” he grumbles.
He ignores the bag I threw at him and begins working on building the fire.
I chuckle again at his childishness, then dig through the bag and lay out a feast for us.
Even if it is only bread, apples and a few vegetables.
With the fire warming us and our bellies full, my eyes begin to droop.
I curl up on my side facing the fire, tucking my coat tighter around me, trying to shelter myself from the biting night air.
Despite the warmth from the fire, my teeth are still chattering.
I don't have enough meat on my bones to keep me warm. I hear a brief rustle, then Caene’s footsteps crunching the dry, dead grass as he approaches me around the fire.
I look up at him, at his hand reaching down to me.
I raise my eyebrow but take the offered hand.
He pulls me to standing. Without a word, he undoes the buttons of my coat and lays it on the ground.
He slowly, gently guides me back down onto it.
“What are you—?” The question gets stuck in my throat as he reaches for the clasp of his own cloak and removes it.
He doesn’t miss the gulp I take and smirks as he lies down beside me.
He guides me over onto my side, once again facing the fire, and curls his body around mine, covering us both with his cloak.
His arm wraps around my waist, hugging me tightly to his chest. The warmth and safety I feel from his body behind me and the fire in front of me lull me quickly into a surprisingly deep sleep.
A large wood-paneled atrium filled with glass exhibits slowly comes into focus. I look up at the whale hanging from the ceiling above me. I’ve been here before. My heart begins to pound in my chest, the anxiety squeezing the breath from my lungs.
I’m going to see Caene die. I don’t know if I can handle it again. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after everything he’s done for me.
“Where is she?” A brittle voice echoes through the cavernous space.
I spin to see an ancient-looking man, his long, thin silver hair tied back at the base of his skull.
His face looks as though it’s melting off his bones, but his green eyes are bright.
Eyes that are familiar to me. Bitterness coats my tongue.
This is Maziar Montbeth. Caene’s father.
“I don’t know!” He’s standing over a woman on her knees. “I swear! I haven’t seen her in almost two months!” The woman is facing away from me but I would know her voice and her dark hair anywhere. Isi.
“Then you are of no further use to me.” Maziar’s voice is calm as he produces an axe from the air and swings it with surprising strength. Isirae’s head and body are sent in different directions. Her metal collar clangs on the floor and her blood coats his withered skin.
“No!” I’m sprinting for Isirae’s lifeless form. Maziar jumps back and his eyes connect with mine. In that moment, I could swear he could see me.
A scream rips through me, tears streaming down my face. Caene’s face comes into my focus, distorted with worry, his hands around my shoulders, shaking me. He brings them up to my cheeks, wiping at the tears still falling with his thumbs. I shove him away and get to my feet on shaking legs.
“We’re going back,” I growl at him.
“Back where?” he asks, confusion wrinkling his annoyingly perfect face.
“Kalsevden!” I shriek at him, rage and terror boiling my blood. I know my anger is misplaced but his father is going to kill Isi. I start roughly shoving any wayward items into the bags, burying the fire as I’ve seen him do.
“Woah. Slow down.” He grabs my trembling hands and brings them to his chest. “Why do you want to go back all of a sudden? What did you dream?”
“Isirae,” I whisper. “Maziar is going to kill her.” Tears start flowing in rivers. “I can’t lose her, Caene. I won’t.” I wrench my hands from his grip and clamber ungracefully up onto Bazil’s back.
I look down at him. I don’t want to leave him but I won’t let this vision come to pass.
I square my shoulders and wipe the tears from my eyes.
“I’m going with or without you, Caene. But I won’t deny I could use your help.
I won’t deny I want you with me. Please.
” My heart feels like it’s being pulled in two different directions.
I hold out my hand to him. He looks from it to my face before nodding.
My heart does a little flip inside my chest.
He grabs the coat and cloak still lying on the frozen ground, throws his on, unties Bazil’s reins from the tree, takes my hand, and climbs onto the beast behind me.
He wraps the coat I’ve claimed as mine around my shoulders before guiding Bazil back toward the road.
Instead of journeying north, he steers Bazil south, back the way we came.
I squeeze my eyes closed and I hope. I hope that the Frai disoriented the twins enough for us to slip back past them. I hope we make it to Isi in time. I hope my vision was wrong.
One hope to the next.