36. What If I Just… Stayed?
Despite my jelly-thighs, my next flight was infinitely more comfortable.
Idris allowed me the honour of riding up front, though one successful solo flight did not a qualified pilot make, and the prince insisted on reaching around me to take hold of Saeth’s mane. I couldn’t complain, not when his arms acted as safety barriers and his chest pressed against my back, blanketing me in his warmth. Maybe it should have been awkward, and maybe it was for a few minutes, but as we leapt from the ledge and soared into a pastel orange sky, I forgot that anything was less than perfect.
It was perfect, or so I told myself. I also told myself that the tears welling at the corners of my eyes were only because of the wind. Definitely not because some insane part of me didn’t want to leave this life behind. No, it couldn’t be that at all.
This would be my last flight. Never again in all my life would I experience anything like this. Oh, there were planes and helicopters, but I’d never have the wind tearing at my hair while feathered wings spread on either side. I’d never be part of the sunset in the same way. I’d never feel the swell of Idris’ cheek skimming my jaw, betraying the smile I couldn’t see, coaxed free by the sheer joy of the sky.
A smile as rare and precious as this flight.
Idris’ chin settled on my uninjured shoulder, heavy as he relaxed against me. I wished he wouldn’t. When my tears eventually escaped my eyes, he’d be right in the firing line. He’d know.
Maybe I wasn’t sad at all, maybe it was just this moment being all ridiculous and emotional, affecting everyone, or maybe Idris read me like a book, because he shifted, pressing his face to my neck.
“I’m going to miss you.” He shouted over the wind, but somehow, his words carried all the softness of a whisper, and the sharpness of a dagger, plunging into my stomach.
The tears streaked free and, safe in the circle of Idris’ arms, I twisted. My fingers, miraculously free of the tangle of Saeth’s mane, brushed the prince’s temple. Even this high above the world, holding on to nothing but him, I couldn’t find any fear. Not for the waiting fall at least. For the future? Maybe.
It was the easiest and most natural thing in the world to kiss his cheek.
Idris didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away. He held still, letting me be the one to break the contact of my lips against his skin. Easier said than done. I would miss him too, though there was no hope of the words breaking past the lump in my throat. I wanted to stay.
There it was. The cold, ugly truth. I did want to go home, to see my parents and my friends again, to let them know all was well, but did I want my life back? Did I really want to trade this for a mundane, ordinary life?
No, but I no longer had a choice. Anwir had seen to that. I turned my face forward again, clenching my jaw. Like it or not, this was my last day.
It was the right choice. The only choice.
One of Idris’ hands loosened from Saeth’s mane, snaking around my waist instead. My breath caught in my painfully tight throat, but he only held me, once more resting his chin on my shoulder. A cuddle.
I snorted, smiling and blinking away a fresh bout of tears at the same time. My hand folded on top of his, tucked against my belly. It stayed there as the sky darkened around us.
Night had fallen fully by the time we landed further along the mountain range, atop a broad, flat expanse of rock, over which a waterfall plunged. Further along, the river cut straight into the mountain face itself, disappearing into a dark cave.
“The Blood Gate is inside,” Idris explained, patting Saeth’s neck and vaulting from his back. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
I slithered to the ground with less grace and agility than my companion possessed in his little finger.
Home. Home was on the other side of this mountain. I gave Idris a tremulous smile before turning to the horse. “Bye, Saeth. Thanks for the flying lessons. I’ll never forget them.”
Saeth snorted, nudging me with a head the size of my torso. I staggered, laughing. “You’re lovely. I should get a photo with you, shouldn’t I?”
What he boasted in haughty elegance, Idris lacked in technical prowess. I set up the camera on my phone and steered the prince a suitable distance away. “Point the phone until you can see us on the screen, and make sure it”s in focus and that you get his wings in it. Then press this little symbol on the screen.” I hesitated, contemplating the likelihood of a successful first attempt. “Better press it a few times, to be safe.”
He held the phone like it might take a bite out of his hand, but followed my instructions as I hurried back to Saeth’s side, propped my arm on his withers, and smiled. The horse shifted a wing, tucking me to his side with the feathery joint. At least somebody understood the assignment.
“How do I know if a photo has happened?”
My smile stretched, squinting my eyes. “Did you press the symbol?”
“Eleven times so far,” he said, continuing to jab the screen with his thumb, bringing to mind a memory of my dad the first time he’d got a smartphone for Christmas.
“That should do it then.”
Idris sagged with relief, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I rescued him from the horrors of technology. I flicked open the gallery and my screen filled with identical images of me and Saeth. They looked passable, much to my surprise. “I should have got a selfie of us flying,” I grumbled. Now that I was out of time, it turned out there were lots of things I still wanted to do.
Idris’ silence stretched for a few seconds, then he said, “You could stay for another day?”
“And risk Anwir catching up to us and dragging me to the altar in chains?”
“I wouldn’t let him.”
After his vicious reaction to Jacques, I had no trouble believing him.
Jacques. Another thing I’d have to leave behind. Not that I was feeling particularly fond of him at the moment, with a dull sting still throbbing in my neck, but I’d miss him eventually. I’d never know if he was okay.
My eyes flickered over Idris’ numerous cuts. “Who came off worse in the fight? You or the vampire?”
The prince raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need to ask?”
My mouth went dry as I took in Idris’ bulk. Jacques was barely taller than me, and severely malnourished, whereas Idris… well, I couldn’t be sure, but I’d had his arms around me long enough to suspect that, beneath the clothes, he was something of a god. If only I’d paid attention when he was shirtless in the witch’s ward. That would be a photo I could treasure. “Don’t be smug.”
He gave a velvety chuckle, but his expression quickly turned serious. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Only if you’re prepared for the same evasive non-answers that you give me.” I folded my arms, earning another small smirk.
His face darkened. “How did the vampire get in?”
Damn. My skin ignited, bypassing my ears completely. If only I hadn’t asked about Jacques. “Through the window.”
“All by itself?”
“Himself,” I corrected without thinking. Idris raised his eyebrow again, and I conceded defeat with a sigh. It didn’t matter what Idris knew; I’d soon be gone. “His name is Jacques, and he’s alright. He’s a friend. I met him on my first night in Neath. He’s helped me.”
Idris gave a sceptical snort, spreading his arms. I didn’t need to see his wounds to know what he referred to. “I can’t believe you let it in. It’s a vampire. It would have killed you, Aliza. Friends don’t do that.”
As absurd as it was to argue against such a statement, he was wrong. It had been a moment of weakness after centuries of starvation. I wasn’t about to admit to pushing Jacques though, to offering myself up as a snack, only for him to take a full banquet. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“I tried. Unfortunately for me, it had just fed, and was too strong.”
“Stop calling him it.” I couldn’t keep the bite of impatience from my words.
Idris matched me, equally waspish as he asked, “Why were you half naked?”
Why, oh why had I agreed to questions? Thank God for the dark, because my face burnt like a beacon. “I shouldn’t have let him in,” I admitted in an attempt to avoid the question and dampen rising tempers. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I never meant for that to happen. I trusted Jacques when I shouldn’t have. Though, apparently, I’m a terrible judge of character, so that should come as no surprise.”
His shoulders drooped slightly. “No need to apologise.”
“Actually, there is. I was stupid. I put everyone in danger. Besides, this is the last chance I’ll get. If I don’t say sorry now, I’ll spend the rest of my life plagued with guilt every time I think of your scars.”
“Grief makes us reckless.”
Grief. It was almost laughable. Anwir’s betrayal barely registered, a blip on the radar compared to whatever unfathomable sorrow Idris suffered. The prince held my gaze as my lungs filled and deflated.
“I take it this is a no, then?”
I frowned. “No to what?”
“You refuse my generous offer to keep you alive for another day? One more flight?”
“Oh.” The word turned into a smile as I allowed myself a brief fantasy about taking to the skies once more, with Idris’ arms around me. As tempting as the offer was, I had a home to get back to. I conjured the image of Mum and Dad’s faces when I walked through the door, alive and whole. Shock, disbelief… joy. I toyed with the golden letter A strung around my neck. I had a name to live up to. “No, thank you. I should go.”
He gave a curt nod and turned to Saeth. “Stay here,” Idris said with one final pat. “I’ll be back soon.”
Soon. I’d be home soon, and he’d be here. In different worlds.
Something swelled inside me, an emotion I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that it wasn’t the excitement I’d anticipated. It was something… unpleasant. I kept it from my face, fighting it down inside as Idris and I set off, picking our way over the rock.
With every step I took along the slippery bank, war raged within me. A tornado of conflicting emotions, each fighting to be felt, to overwhelm me, but none succeeding. The effect left me half numb, half nauseous. I tried to remind myself why I was here, why I was leaving. I tried to imagine my return to Mum and Dad, how even Abby might cry when she heard I’d come home safe, but it evaded me. All I knew was that every step felt wrong.
But I didn’t belong here. I had no home on this side of the rift, and only three true friends to my name. One of whom walked silently at my side, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. On the warren of caves leading to the rift, and then the human world. The place I’d always called home.
That all-engulfing sense of wrongness gripped me again. I lowered my eyes to the precarious path laid out before me and tried to remember why I’d worked myself half to death for a degree, and why I wanted to go back to that. I did want to go back. I did.
I heaved a sigh. I was going to miss this magical world. Or some of it, anyway. Maybe not the terrifying monsters, but I’d never go another Christmas without thinking of tiny little fairies humming over the flowers of Neath. Maybe when I was old and senile I’d tell my nurses about them, and they’d snigger and up my meds. The idea of carrying my adventure to the grave, of never sharing it, was like a vice around my ribs. I glanced at the prince from the corner of my eye. Nobody would ever know that he existed, that he’d become my friend. That he’d gifted me the sky, even if only for a moment. I could never tell a soul.
I’d never see him again.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I lowered my eyes.
There was no use dwelling on such things. By the time the sun rose, I’d be back in my own life, and it would be so full that I’d barely have a thought to spare for Idris and his weird but wonderful world.
Wrong. It was all wrong.
No, it wasn’t. Coming here in the first place had been wrong. I was human. Mortal. I wasn’t meant for this world, and everyone I loved was on the far side of the rift.
Everyone.
Idris paused at the entrance to the caves, looking down at me with eyes painted silver by the moon. As he had done the day we’d first flown, he held out his hand, palm up, waiting.
“It’s dark in there,” he said, his voice as soft as velvet. “I’ll guide you.”
Because who knew the darkness better than Idris?
Gulping, I nodded and placed my hand in his. My breath caught as his fingers closed, his cool skin engulfing mine. He dwarfed me in a way no human man ever had. Was this what it was like for short girls, to be surrounded by towering, powerful creatures, capable of breaking them? I could see how it could be frightening, but with Idris, I had nothing to fear. He’d kept me safe from the beginning, when we’d been lost in those pitch-dark tunnels. How fitting that we would end in much the same way.
I stepped close, pressing my shoulder to his arm, and looped my free hand around the crook of his elbow. Safe or not, I had no intention of being separated from him. Not yet, anyway.
“Ready?” Idris asked.
I spared one last lingering look at Neath. At the magnificent, starry sky. At the silver ribbon of the river, winding through the dark woods and the imposing mountains. Here and there, I spied tiny flecks of fairy light, vivid in a world of black and silver.
The prince squeezed my hand.
I would remember this moment forever, I decided. I wouldn’t rely on photographs, which could never do it justice. I painted it into my memory, my last glimpse of Neath, and the feel of Idris’ hand in mine.
“Ready,” I rasped, and turned to face the gaping, impenetrable darkness of the Blood Gate.