Chapter 76
Chapter Seventy-Six
Rohak
My boots thunked against the hard-packed earthen floor of Faylinn’s cottage on the edge of the forests that surrounded Isrun. Faylinn’s touch covered every inch.
The cupboard bookshelves were empty, but I could envision them full of countless tomes and journals.
The table was bare—save for two bowls and spoons—but if I squinted hard enough, it came alive with her drawings and notes, a candle burning in the dim light as she sat in the chair hunched over some book or other.
The thoughts brought a small smile to my face—a smile that instantly dropped when I remembered the reason for my presence.
Kaos embodied his name to the fullest when he appeared in those stables and transported me to the edge of the woods that separated Reeria from the outskirts of Vespera.
There, on the quickly darkening horizon, was the outline of yet another forest. Despite only traveling through it once, I recognized it immediately, knew its trees intimately.
It was the last barrier between the Borderlands and the Northern Territories, and, most importantly, those impossibly tall oaks surrounded the cottage where my love once lived.
“Go,” Kaos had said, a desperation I’d never heard in a god’s voice before. His dark eyes glittered with intensity even as he began to fade into the ether, stepping back into a portal that would take him elsewhere. “She will come. Wait for her.”
I’d wasted little time—already spurring Balios into a hard gallop before the last vestiges of Kaos’ transport were whisked away on the burgeoning spring’s breeze. His hooves pounded against the hard ground, his breaths nearly as erratic as my own.
I shook my head and ran a hand through my already wild black strands, unable to calm the fear and apprehension that flowed down my half of the Bond.
Faylinn blocked me long ago—most likely when she was in the Valley—and being unable to gauge her emotions and physical state nearly sent me into a spiral so deep it would take more than just a few softly muttered words to pull me back again.
Thud, thud, thud.
Swish.
The repetition of my pacing ended with the slamming of the cottage door.
I jumped in surprise, instinctually pulling on my magic that was no longer there.
When Destruction refused to pool in my palm, I reached for my belt, where I’d kept a dagger, but cursed colorfully when I realized it was no longer strapped to my hip.
Instead, it lay on the hearth, glinting in the light of the fire where I’d used it to strike a flint.
“Rohak.” A small, surprised cry laced with exhaustive relief hit my ears, pulling my gaze back to the intruder.
There, outlined in the doorway, firelight spilling across her ragged features as obsidian darkness framed her lithe frame, was my Faylinn.
I froze, hands hanging in the air halfway between us, unable to move, unable to speak. It was as if I’d had a spell cast upon me, only given the ability to watch as Faylinn smiled softly and turned around to close the door to the cottage with a soft thunk.
The broken eye contact released me, and I quickly catalogued the ripped pants and tunic, the dried blood on a palm as one of her hands fell from the thin wooden door.
A low growl built deep within as I realized that Faylinn was not just tired—she was injured.
Faylinn turned suddenly, and I could fully assess the damage her escape had done.
“What. Happened,” I gritted between my clenched teeth, striding across the room in two steps to cup Faylinn’s bruised and marked face in my hands.
The infuriating woman rolled her sparkling eyes at me as her hands came up in an attempt to dislodge my grip. I stepped closer, pulling her body against my own, effectively stilling her fight.
Her hands dropped back to her sides with a sigh.
“I thought you said your trip to the Valley would be safe and informative”—I emphasized the words she’d thrown at me—“enlightening, even.”
“It was,” she admitted softly, exhaustion lacing every word and burrowing deep within her features.
The muscle in my jaw jumped in time to my racing heart. I raised my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to continue.
Faylinn’s smaller hands came up to rest against my own, her thumbs caressing the skin there. As good as it felt, I refused to be distracted by her ministrations.
“We ran into an issue in the Valley—” she paused, and my impatience reached its zenith.
“Go on.”
Faylinn sighed again. “There was a Seeing Room beneath the main house. They showed me hidden catacombs as far as the eye could see, Rohak. Each filled with books and scrolls so numerous I would need lifetimes to read them all.” The golden flecks in her irises danced with that admission, even the cadence of her speech elevated in excitement.
My lips quirked slightly in response, happy to see some of my Faylinn returning, despite the slightly grayish pallor her skin still held.
She was sweating now, too, both from the heat of the fire and the influx of adrenaline.
Even my legs were wobbling, and I had no doubt we would both crash from it all soon.
“But the Seeing Room required a payment of sorts.”
“What kind of payment?” I asked, already fearing the answer.
A wry, cunning smile spread across Faylinn’s face. She winced slightly as it split her lower lip once more, but nothing could stop the joy she radiated.
“There is power in blood, Rohak. And the ancients are greedy things indeed.”
“How much blood, Faylinn?”
She shrugged. “A bit from my palm to open the door. A bit more to see the visions they wanted me to see.”
My thumbs gently caressed the light tracks of dried blood beneath her nose. They flaked away with my touch as if they’d never been there in the first place. Faylinn’s face softened as I continued to explore with the pads of my fingers.
“That doesn’t explain these.” I gently palpated the puffy and purpling skin around her eyes.
“It—the visions—were a bit more than I could handle,” she whispered with a wince as I turned thunderous eyes on her.
“What do you mean ‘more than you could handle ’?” My voice was deceptively calm, disguising the anger and concern I felt to the very depths of my soul.
“My mind was not built to handle that type of information. I’m not a descendant of Solace. So I had to improvise a little. Knowledge does not come without sacrifice, Rohak.”
“What kind of sacrifice, Faylinn?”
She chewed on her lower lip, wincing when her teeth dug into the cut again. With a huff, I pulled it from between her teeth, covering the slice with my thumb.
“Tell me,” I commanded.
“I died. I sacrificed my life for that knowledge.” Her voice was full of spite, as if begging me to retaliate, to tell her she was wrong.
“Fate brought you back?”
Faylinn shrugged slightly. “My immortality, but yes.”
“Was it worth it?” I asked, voice dangerously low.
She jerked her head once, though her face barely moved with my palms cupping her cheeks still.
“Tell me what you saw.”
“Empires rise and fall, the earth turn and day bleed into night. I saw death and life, lies and truths. Secrets long kept and futures yet to happen. I saw two rise and two fall. I heard prophecies not meant for my ears and gained knowledge no one person should have. My hands itch to write it all, to transcribe the vastness of information imparted from spirits of those long past.” Her voice was pained, but full of awe, her eyes swimming with rapture and exhaustion.
“That’s quite a bit, my love. A burden to carry.”
“I found the last remaining artifact,” she whispered with a wane smile. “And a way to fix the Mage Sickness—a rune to inscribe on Mages.”
I was struck silent, blinking owlishly at my beautifully intelligent woman.
“You cannot be angry with me,” Faylinn snipped eventually. Fire and heat ignited her own fury so that it sparkled in her eyes like flames.
“Oh, I can be as angry as I want, my love. I am angry, furious even. But that is only because I care for you, love you. I’m incensed that you shut the Bond down during this, that you refused to let me experience it with you.
I trust you, Faylinn, more than I trust anything or anyone else.
If you say the information was worth exchanging your life, worth dying for, then it is as you say. ”
“Then why are you angry?” she whispered. My face had slowly lowered toward hers as I spoke, and our mouths were now a centimeter away; her warm breath fanned over my lips with each word spoken.
“Because you refused to let me be with you,” I growled.
“What don’t you understand, Faylinn? I am yours, you are mine.
If you are to die, then I am to do. It. With.
You. You leave this Bond open”—I plucked it, feeling it reverberate in my chest—“for the rest of our days. I want to know every thought, every emotion, every feeling that you have. Every pain-filled second and every moment of elation. There are no secrets I want to hide from you, nothing I don’t want you to experience with me. Do you not feel the same?”
Faylinn’s eyes widened the more I spoke. She blinked rapidly at my confession, her hands tightening over mine as our chests sawed in synchronized, uneven breaths.
“I love you,” I raggedly and rawly admitted. “Deeply, ardently, with every fiber of my being.”
“Rohak,” she whimpered. But I felt everything she left unsaid. The Bond flooded with so much emotion, so much love and dedication that it overpowered any residual fear-based anger. My muscles shook with restraint, knees nearly buckling from the realization that whipped through my consciousness.
How I could have ever thought this woman cold, unfeeling, with misappropriated intentions, was a regret I’d live with for the rest of my days.
Gods, I was an imbecile. Faylinn’s intentions were always good, always pure. I was the one who tried to sully them. Even now, she tried to protect me, to erect a wall between us for whatever noble reason she felt was necessary to put off completing the Bond with me.