Chapter 54
JO
A crown of wildflowers sits on top of the pail.
Flowers in every shade of color. I pick it up, inspecting its delicate work before placing it atop my head.
It falls over my forehead, more like a diadem than a crown.
The tall grass catches on the end of my yellow dress as I march away from the cottage to go look for him.
I cross the hillside until I get to the creek where I spot him.
His back is to me, and I’m glad Hallis is nowhere to be seen.
I have things I need to say to Acker without his friend making fun of me.
I march up to him. “I don’t want to marry you when I’m older,” I say, spitting the words out all at once.
He turns to look at me over his shoulder, eyes squinting against the sun. “I don’t think you have much of a choice,” he says, returning to his task.
I stomp closer, watching as he picks rocks from the creek bed. They’re pretty. Blues and greens and pinks. The water is clear like glass and I can see the fish dart away when he reaches under.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Looking for gold.”
I sink to my haunches beside him. “My mother said there’s no gold in this creek because it dries up every summer.”
“There’s gold,” he says, chin balanced on his knee.
“No, there’s not.”
“You’ll see.”
I hate it when he pretends to know everything. Mother said it’s because he’s a boy, but I think it’s because he’s a know-it-all. “Well, I just came down here to tell you I’m not going to marry you, even if I have to.”
He grins but doesn’t look at me as he continues to shift through the rocks on the creek bed. “What if I give you a gold ring?”
“Every king gives the queen a gold ring. That’s hardly special.”
“Wait,” he says, holding up his palm from the water, pointing at the soil in the center. “Look.”
Bending close, I squint at the blackish mush in his hand. “You’re seeing things.”
“Jovie, it’s right there,” he insists.
Then he shifts his hand just so, tiny flecks of … something … reflect in the sunlight. I can’t hide my awe, and he gets more excited.
“The creek is full of it,” he says, splaying a hand over the water.
“How would you know?”
He shrugs. “I just do.”
I roll my eyes. “Great. Maybe you can find enough to make a gold ring for yourself to wear.”
“Don’t be silly, Jovie.”
“I’m not,” I say with a hand on my hip. “I don’t want a ring, and I don’t want to get married and especially not to you.”
He looks at me in a way that makes me feel like I was too mean. I wanted to be, but now that I realize I may have hurt his feelings, I feel kind of bad.
“You don’t even like me,” I insist.
“Who said that I don’t like you?” he asks.
“You and Hallis are always mean to me.”
“Hallis is … Hallis,” he explains. “But I don’t want to be mean to you. That’s why I made you another crown.”
I’d forgotten about the flowers on my forehead. “It’s too big.” I take it off and place it on his head instead. Then I laugh, because it fits him just right. “Did you measure it on your head?”
Put out by my flippant attitude, he rips the flowers from his head and tosses them in the creek, and I realize once again that I hurt his feelings.
“Do you really want to marry me, Acker?”
He looks up at me. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
I laugh, because it’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard. “You’ve seen, like, seven girls.”
He washes his hands in the creek. “Best out of seven ain’t bad.”
Sighing, I bend to look at him in the face. “I’ll make you a deal.” For a moment I forget what I’m even saying, too enamored by his long lashes before I find my words again. “I’ll marry you, but only if you wear the gold ring instead.”
His smile starts to make a reappearance.
“But you have to wear it on your nose,” I say, poking him on the tip of his.
He swats my hand away. “Only nomads wear rings on their faces.”
“Do nomads have betrothals?”
He huffs a laugh, splashing me with the water.
A water fight ensues, because of course I can’t let him get away with that.
We both end up in the creek as we attempt to soak the other.
It doesn’t take long before we’re both sopping wet and we relent, our argument forgotten as we begin our hunt for more gold.
Acker shows me where to look, the place where the water collects the sediment between rocks and crevices.
We scoop the silky mud in our hands and let the flow of water wash the heavier pieces of dirt and mud away until there are only tiny flecks of what looks like rust.
After a while, Acker stands, eyes turning toward the sky. “The sun’s been out for a while,” he says, then looks at me. “I think you should wake up.”
It’s nonsense, his words, but I shake my head. “Not yet.”
We continue searching for what feels like forever.
The sun never moves and it makes me happy.
For some reason, I know I don’t want the day to end.
I want to stay here for as long as I can.
We collect our findings, combining the specks of gold in my palm, just enough to pinch between two fingers as we stand knee deep in the stream of water.
“We need to go home,” Acker says, inspecting the sky once again. “You need to wake up.”
“We don’t have nearly enough for a gold ring, though.” But when I look up, Acker is no longer the boy from my dreams. Instead, he’s the man I love.
His expression is stern. “You need to wake up, Jovie.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to.”
He grabs me by my arms, no longer the limbs of a child, but of an adult. “I need you to wake up. Right now, Jovie. Wake up.” I shake my head, but he’s adamant. The gold ring in his nostril glaringly obvious under the midday sun. This isn’t real. Not anymore. “Wake up. Wake. Up. Wake–”
Breath fills my lungs as if I’m coming up for air after being underwater, and with a sharp gasp my eyes snap open.
The golden ceiling above gives me a view of my reflection as I lie on the table of the dais.
Fredrich cusses, and I can see Acker’s relief.
The slack in his shoulders, his breath leaving him as he leans over my form.
It takes a moment for everything to come back to me.
I look to my right, at the man from my dreams, eyes dark and fanned with lashes. “Messer?” I ask.
Acker’s crestfallen face should be all the answer I need, but it’s not. I need him to say the words.
“Tell me,” I demand.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Jovie. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
But I think I do know. The memory of his bird form flopping against the hard ground, chest racing as he struggled to breathe, and I crumble.
As quickly as the tears fill my vision, they overflow.
Acker cradles me to his chest, arms tight as though if he holds me hard enough, he will be able to keep me together.
It’s not real. It can’t be. Not Messer. But as the memory of his death flashes through my mind, I know it to be true, and the pain feels unbearable. The kind of heartache that can’t be fixed, cleaving me in half.
“Listen to me,” he says, moving the hair from my face with his hands, wiping the moisture from my cheeks. “Jovie, listen. I need you to fight with me, okay?”
I struggle to make sense of his words, feeling so lost as I look into his dark eyes. I reach for his face, trying to find something real. Anything to hold on to. He’s coated in sweat, and I feel the moisture on the high of his cheekbone, to the dip underneath, then to the gold ring in his nostril.
His grin is fleeting, tinged with sadness as he kisses my palm.
“You want this fight, Jovie.” He wipes away a stray tear, holding my face in his hands so I can’t look away.
“You’re going to get up and fight for Messer and for me and for this entire godsdamn land,” he says, his voice growing with emotion, his own fight igniting behind his eyes.
“You’re not going to allow him to get the final blow. ”
Him. Wren.
I sit up. “Where is he?”
“He left,” Acker says, bitter. “He knew I wouldn’t kill him, couldn’t without risking you never waking up.”
Little does he know, this man has spent four years pushing himself past the boundaries of mangi stone to get to me. Nothing would’ve been able to keep him out.
Shame has Acker looking away. “And he knows your mother is coming,” he says.
Hell.
“Kai sold us out to his father, so we need to stop your mother before she kills all of my men,”
I nod, but it’s disjointed. It feels like my head isn’t attached to my shoulders.
“Jovie,” Acker says, leveling his eyes to meet mine. “Let’s find the bastard and end this.”
This time my nod feels steadier.
There’s a sense of deadly promise radiating from him as he holds out his palm to help me from the height of the table.
It’s then that the room comes into focus.
We’re in the dining hall, but it’s empty.
No, not empty, I realize, as the bodies of the entire council are splayed on the floor.
They lay haphazardly across the room as if they were running from something.
I follow the line of splatters from each body leading back to the dais, to Acker’s feet where he stands, the drips falling from the daggers in his sash.
Then I notice the dried traces of blood around his nails, in the divots of his hands and wrists, such contrast to the paleness of my skin against his.
I meet Acker’s gaze, understanding what transpired while I was sleeping. The fury he felt toward every man in this room who contributed to this moment. Power hungry and selfish and greedy.
“We need to go,” Fredrich says, urging our attention.
“Wait,” Acker says, walking toward a man dead on the ground.
His father, I realize in startling clarity, as I watch Acker dig through his pockets before finding what he was hunting. A gray stone the size of a child’s fist, and he shoves the slatstone in his very own pocket.
Acker descends the steps of the dais and moves toward one of his fallen soldiers, no longer wearing a helmet, having met the same fate as the council.
He holds a hand over the sword still in the soldier’s hand and lifts it as if on an invisible string into his waiting palm.
He inspects the weapon before holding a hand out toward another dead soldier, taking his weapon as well.
With both swords in hand, he strides toward me, holding one toward me by the blade as an offering.
“Wren has declared war against my crown and Maile as your mother pushes her army into the city,” he says. “No matter what happens, you do not leave Fredrich. Do you understand?” He doesn’t bother waiting for my answer, eyes leveling on his friend as if the words were meant for him and not me.
“All three of us stay together,” Fredrich says, pinning Acker with a hard stare.
He nods. “Yes.” Then he hauls me to his mouth with a hand on the nape of my neck. When he pulls away, he says, “If you ever leave me again, I’m going to chain you to my bed permanently.”
I push at his chest. “You were the one who insisted I’d be safer away from here.”
“Since when do you listen to me?” he asks, a disbelieving smile pulling at his mouth as he turns toward the stairs.
“You…” I don’t finish the insult, knowing he’s just trying to goad me as I follow him into the kitchen.
Fredrich’s chuckle echoes off the walls behind me. “We kill Wren the moment anyone lays eyes on him.”
Ackner nods. “I suspect he’ll be leading the charge. Keep your eyes peeled. He likes the control.”
“And his son?” Fredrich asks.
Acker doesn’t look at me when he replies, rotating the sword with his wrist. “He better pray to the gods I’m not the one who finds him.”