Chapter 58
I’ve traveled through this forest before, but everything was different then. I treaded beside a group of over a hundred stolen, both fiend and fae, without any idea what was going to happen to us.
I never would’ve been able to guess.
Now, I’m traveling willingly, with Varrik at my side instead of him forcing me forward. With hope in my throat instead of horror.
Frid came with us, in case we really do need to strong-arm Hamelyn’s gates open.
Plus Conrad, of course, who agreed to try to use his magic on my mother.
Hopefully, her intense distrust of Core fae can be ignored for the sake of her health.
I’m willing to risk her unease if there’s even a chance that Conrad could actually help her. I’m desperate for this to work.
Terrified that it won’t.
Conrad brought along the fifth and final member of our traveling group—one of his Core who came with him to Penbroge.
He calls him the Woodsman. To be fair, the man does carry an axe at his belt.
His hair is longer than Varrik’s, black strands threaded with silver down to the middle of his back, with a matching beard that hangs to his chest. His face is weathered, his arms bulky, and he has a tendency to talk to his horse.
When we first made introductions, his stars appeared below his stern frown. Independent. Resilient. Prioritizes honor.
Seems a good sort to have around.
“We’re almost there,” Varrik says at my ear.
I nod and try to stretch my legs where they hang down astride his horse. The day of travel has been long, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep tonight. The closer I get to home, the more anxious I feel.
Our small party stops at the same clearing as before, but this time, there’s no threatening fae with a crossbow in his lap.
Varrik reaches up and helps me down from his horse. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I’m sore from riding, but it’s nothing compared to the knots in my stomach. They’re not all trepidatious, though. Some of the emotion tangled up in me is a slow-building elation.
Because I’m going to see my mother and aunt tomorrow.
Finally, after all this time, I’m going to be able to wrap them in my arms and hug them. To see that they’re okay. I can’t wait.
The Woodsman starts a fire in the circle of charred rocks, and I sit on a log, watching the young flames grow into their own. Varrik lures out some rabbits that Frid promptly snaps the necks of before spit roasting them, and I’m hungry enough that the scent soon has me salivating.
We all eat in companionable quiet, listening to the fire crackle and the nighttime animals skitter through the forest. After I finish my portion, Varrik takes away the bones to discard, while I sip on my waterskin.
“How’s your back?” Conrad asks as he bites off a piece of scorched meat.
He caught me, my hand absently tracing over the scarred skin beneath the tunic I’m wearing. I find myself doing that quite a lot. Marveling at the lack of pain. Smoothing over the healed skin.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him. “It’s strange to have it suddenly healed and not have any lingering pain.”
“Glad to hear it,” he replies. “It really looked foul. And reeked quite a bit.”
I snort, flicking my eyes to Varrik’s retreating form as he disappears between the trees. “So I’ve been told.”
“It’s true,” Frid says with a shrug.
I sigh and then turn back to Conrad. “When Varrik told me your magic might be able to help my mother, I was surprised. I thought it only worked on wounds like I had.”
Conrad bobs his head. “My magic works best on flesh wounds, but I can sometimes heal other things. There was a woman who suffered dizziness for years, and I was able to wrap her head and heal her. An infant was born, and the poor thing couldn’t pass more than an hour or two without screaming.
I wrapped her up from head to toe, and she finally ceased wailing, much to the mother’s relief.
” He stops, tilting his head in thought.
“Also met a man who had a bit of a problem beneath the britches. Had to scrub my bandage very well after that . . .” He trails off with a wrinkled nose.
“Point is, I can heal things going on beneath the skin too.”
“That’s amazing,” I say honestly, choosing not to think about the man’s malady under his pants.
“Yes, it really is awe-inspiring,” he replies with a nod as he finishes his meal and props his legs out in front of him where he sits. The flames from the fire make his orange hair look even brighter. “I tell all the troubadours I come across how magnificent my magic is.”
I laugh, and across from me, Frid grins as he shoves up his sleeves, bracing his limbs over his knees. “I’m sure you do.”
“Of course I do,” Conrad replies with a frown. “There aren’t nearly enough songs written about me.”
The Woodsman rolls his eyes. “You don’t need your ego stroked.”
Conrad sighs. “True. That would be another part of me.”
Varrik walks over just then and knocks his fist against Conrad’s head. “There’s a lady present.”
Conrad winces, rubbing the spot. “See? Violence—that’s what they all want to sing about. The great art of my healing is overlooked against such savagery as the famed Piper with his bursts of brutality.”
I choke on a laugh, swallowing it down when Varrik sits beside me. “Don’t,” he warns. “He’ll start to think he’s actually funny.”
“I am funny!” Conrad argues.
“You’re not,” all three of the other men say.
I grin, watching Varrik’s mouth twist up in a smirk as Conrad huffs. The firelight casts over Varrik’s face, softening his striking features with the subtle glow.
He turns his head then, catching me staring. I blush slightly, and he leans in, his breath gathering against my skin like smoke against fire. “Having wicked thoughts in the forest?”
I shake my head. “No!” I whisper fiercely. “I was thinking about all of you,” I stumble out in an awkward explanation.
“All of us? At once?” Conrad chimes in. “I’m listening.”
“Don’t make me hit you again.” Varrik scowls.
“Yeah, if you get him mad enough, he’ll be luring you into the forest in the dead of night,” Frid warns.
Conrad sighs. “I loathe midnight strolls.”
The Woodsman snorts.
“Actually,” I say, cutting in. “I was just wondering about all of you—about what it must’ve been like to get core power.”
There’s silence, as if I just beheaded the cheerful mood.
“Sorry . . .” I shift in place on the log, swiping my hands over my pants as I look at their faces. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“You can ask,” Varrik says.
“I’ll tell you,” Frid offers. “I was minding my own business, fishing with my father when the cracks tore our lake open. Core flooded up until every bit of water turned to bubbling lava. The steam was so thick I couldn’t see a damn thing, and the heat melted our boat like a candle.
My father died, just like every other fisher out there that day.
I was stuck treading water as it boiled me alive with the fish. ”
I stare at him, horrified. “Fates, Frid. I’m so sorry. It’s lucky you didn’t drown.”
He shrugs, and the dark skin of his face flickers with orange as he stares at the fire. “I was the unlucky one if you ask me. And I still hate the water.”
I suddenly remember his wary expression when he hauled us across the bay in the ferry. If I were him, I would hate water too.
“How about you, Woodsman?” Frid asks, gesturing to our surroundings. “You get burned alive in a forest like this?”
The Woodsman pulls at his thick black beard. “Not a forest, just one lone pine tree. I was trying to cut the damn thing down. It fell on me when the earth started shaking. Couldn’t get out from under it till the lava charred it through and crumbled it to ash.”
I wince. “That must’ve been horrible to be pinned in place.”
His eyes meet mine. “Wasn’t my best day.”
“And you?” I ask Conrad curiously.
He smiles, though it doesn’t hold its usual brightness. “Me? Well, I was lying on a cot in a healer’s den, covered in leeches and ready to die.”
My eyes go wide. “You were dying?”
“Disease of the blood, they called it. Only because they didn’t know what it was.”
“The core power healed you?”
He tips his head. “Indeed. I lived to see another day. Just so happened that day was when the world decided to break and my whole city was torched. I heard screams of death for hours while I lay on that bed and burned. The leeches melted right against my skin. Never got the stains off my thighs.”
I don’t know whether to be more horrified or awestruck.
Turning my head, I look at Varrik. He’s told me very little, and I’m ashamed to pry, but I desperately want to know more about his past. Want to know how he became the man he is today. Want to know about his battle against the Banes.
I can tell the evenness he wears is just a facade. As if he spent years bricking over the rubble of the trauma left to pile. “I already told you I was a soldier and that everyone in my battalion died,” he says. “After that, I went to the nearby city to look for survivors. There were none.”
I reach over and grip his hand. “I’m sorry.”
His fingers curl around mine. “It was a long time ago.”
I nod, but I can see the truth. It’s not long ago for him.
It’s right there beneath the surface.
“On that note—” Conrad digs into his pocket and pulls out a flask. “Here’s to the world cracking open and fucking everything up.”
He takes a swig and passes it to the Woodsman, who drinks before passing it to Frid.
Frid chugs some and winces, and then walks over to hand it to me.
I nearly turn it down, but then, why not?
Maybe it’ll help calm my nerves so I can actually sleep.
I take a sip, instantly hit with intense bitterness.
It flays the back of my throat and makes my eyes water.
“What—is that?” I cough.
“Gruit,” Conrad tells me. “Good stuff.”
“It tastes awful.”
“You just need a stronger palate.”
I hand it over to Varrik, but he shakes his head with a wry smile. “I think I’ll pass.”
“You’re missing out,” Conrad chides before leaning forward and swiping it from me.
The Woodsman gets to his feet. “Gonna check on the horses and then I’m turning in.”
Frid gets up too. “I’m going in my tent. If there’s an emergency . . . nobody wake me. You deal with it.”
I laugh, watching him stride to his tent and disappear inside.
Varrik looks over at me as I crack out a yawn. “You’re tired,” he says, and I nod.
“Yes, go bed down, you exquisite Latchers,” Conrad singsongs before taking another swig. “I’ll put out the fire.”
Varrik gets to his feet and offers me a hand. “Let’s get you to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yes.” I reply, feeling the insurmountable weight settling back on my thoughts. “We do.”