Chapter 6 #2
He huffs a breath through his nose, his eyes pinning me to the spot, but I meet his stare just as seriously.
I don’t care if he wants me to hide away.
I am not hiding from something that my actions caused.
I will deal with the situation as it comes, the same way I would have as queen, and he’ll be right there beside me.
“Stay close then,” he grumbles, and his hand falls to the small of my back as he ushers me across the plateau, positioning me so I’m standing just behind him.
Beads of sweat drip down my back as the heat of the suns pounds on us.
The damp still air is stifling, making it difficult to breathe.
There’s still no sign of the Voyagers. At least we have the upper hand, but I still shuffle my weight on my feet.
Whether it is from nerves, impatience, or discomfort, I’m not sure.
The foliage conceals the crew so well that if I didn’t know they were there, I would think it was only the four of us standing on this landing.
Beside me, Sig and Jorn look as wound tight as I feel, and I can imagine all of us feel the same way.
I’m sure Stassia, with all her earlier anger, is ready to pounce at any sign something is wrong.
Weston turns his chin to his shoulder and murmurs toward me. “Do you remember what I said last night?”
I don’t take my eyes off the approaching paths and keep scanning for any sign of movement.
“I do, but I’m not listening this time.”
“Lennox…” He shoots me a look, his voice a warning, and I break my focus to look over at him.
If something goes wrong, he wants me to get myself out, to keep myself safe and let him handle the threat, even though he has assured me repeatedly that he knows I can handle myself.
But it isn’t the same this time. There’s no returning to Blackwood, no future queen to protect.
I’d be saving myself for nothing, and I refuse to abandon people I care about for a kingdom that no longer matters. What’s here is what matters.
“This is my family too,” I say, keeping my voice low but loud enough that he can hear my determination.
“And I’m not just going to leave any of them behind.
It doesn’t matter what I was, because I’m not a princess anymore.
I have no kingdom, only everyone here, and I’m not leaving them.
Or you. So you can stop with the grumbling and watch for Mara. ”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, but I see something else in his eyes.
Pride? Love?
Desire?
Not letting his eyes break away from mine, I reach up and pull my bow off my chest, nocking an arrow so I’m ready for whatever is coming our way. He turns back toward the overlook, but I notice the subtle shift in his body as he inches closer to me, and sets his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Despite Weston’s overprotectiveness, I can still see enough to scan the area and search for movement of approaching Voyagers. But the island is still. Not even a breeze rustles the leaves, and the crash of the sea on the beaches seems farther away than normal.
“I don’t like this, Cap,” Sig mutters as she shifts nervously on her feet.
“It’ll be fine, babe,” Jorn says and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Someone dies,” she says flatly, and Jorn tilts his head back and forth to the side.
“Alright, true, but besides that, it can’t really get any worse than it already is.”
I huff a laugh, and from the corner of my eye see Weston shaking his head quietly as Sig nudges Jorn with her shoulder until his arm falls back to his side.
A quick glance at the sky tells me it’s almost time, and no one speaks as we watch the island before us. Weston lifts his hand to his brow, shading his eyes before he breaks the silence.
“They’re coming. There’s only two of them.”
A pit forms in my stomach, and I peer in the direction Weston is looking, spotting the two figures walking toward us, moving as if they aren’t in a hurry to get to this meeting at all.
This is it then. It’s real. The dust is actually gone.
After all the talk amongst us that this meeting might be a trap, and the worry that Dane leaving with the dust a hoax, somewhere deep inside I considered that a possibility.
I didn’t realize how strongly I was holding onto that one last thread of hope, that we weren’t truly trapped here, until it snapped.
The way Mara spoke of Dane’s abandonment and betrayal felt so final, but after mentally and physically preparing all day for the possibility it was all a ruse, I’m now realizing I believed it.
I convinced myself, even just a little, that this was all to give Dane what he wanted; to capture me, and force me to tell him the location of the waters.
I held on to the hope that this was all a sick and twisted plot, and that the dust wasn’t gone. Dane wasn’t gone. That we all still had a chance.
But we don’t, and I have to force down the feeling—the same one I had in the tunnels last night as I cried in Weston’s arms—that the world is crumbling again.
Because now, what deserves my focus is making sure all of us will be safe on this island again.
I keep my arrow nocked, pointed at the ground but ready to raise and shoot in the event of an attack.
We watch as they get closer, only the two of them, just as Mara promised, until they come around the bend and through the jungle of trees, stopping at the base of the plateau and leaving a good distance between us.
Mara stands with her hand on the pommel of her sword, with Gauge beside her. His eyes widen as he takes in the four of us, one at a time, his gaze lingering on Weston and his towering and commanding form for a moment longer before moving on.
“You listened,” Weston says, and Mara crosses her arms over her chest.
“You didn’t really give me a choice,” she snaps. The empty pouch hangs from the pocket of her pants, and my eyes drift away from it and lock back on her face.
“You were telling the truth,” I say. “They’re really gone.”
She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Why the fuck would I lie about it, Lennox?”
“Careful,” Weston growls, and Mara looks between the two of us before setting her attention back on me.
“I didn’t lie. Dane left and took Storm with him. They used the rest of the dust, so it is still gone. It’s over.” Her tone is sullen, and her face is still puffy from whatever additional tears she shed after our meeting last night.
“Gauge?” I say, glancing at him. He still eyes Weston warily, and I can see every poisonous lie Dane planted in all of us reflected in the way he looks at us and holds his body, ready to defend himself against an attack.
“Yeah, um.” He clears his throat before finally pulling his focus away long enough to answer, and turns to me. “The shit really fucking left us.”
“So what now?” Mara asks, scanning the four of us. “Where do we go from here?”
Weston speaks first. “Nowhere unless you agree to stop hunting us.”
“But you’re the ones who—”
“Seriously, Mara?” I snap, refusing to listen to one more word of Dane’s lies.
“He lied to everyone for years. He left us all stranded here when he disappeared, taking all our hopes and lives with him, and you’re still going to stand there and say we’re the problem?
” I gesture to my crew beside me, and glare at her.
She chews her lip for a minute before answering. “How can we trust you aren’t tricking us?”
I let out a frustrated groan and mumble under my breath. “Now I understand how irritating I was. Remind me to apologize later.”
Weston chuckles softly before mumbling so only I can hear, “I can think of a few ways.”
I shake my head, ignoring the flicker of fire that ignites low in my abdomen, and yell back to her, “You’ll have to try.”
“We have done nothing to attack you after all this time, and you still think we’re the problem. The trust isn’t needed on your end!” Sig yells across the clearing, and Mara shifts her weight on her feet as the words settle between us.
Trust is more necessary on our end, especially after the way Mara attacked Sig and me, but it is amazing how damaging years of manipulation and coercion can be.
You can know someone, be friends with them, put your life in their hands, and they still will turn against you because of what they’ve been told.
It can negate everything you know, you’ve experienced, all because of someone else’s words.
Weston lifts an arm, motioning with his fingers, and the entire collection crew steps out from their hiding places, weapons drawn but not poised to attack.
Gauge’s head whips around, taking everyone in. “What the…” His eyes widen as they fall on faces he recognizes. Mara’s does too, and they both stand, mouths slack as they look around the group.
“Stassia?” Gauge says, his voice bewildered, but her hardened expression doesn’t soften as anger still roils through her.
She dips her chin in his direction. “Hey Gauge.”
Mara looks at each of the Castaways, but when she gets to Veck, her brow furrows.
“Veck? Is that really you? You’re alright?”
“I’m fine, Mara,” he replies, and gestures to everyone around him. “We’re all fine, and we’re telling the truth.”
Her mouth gapes as she looks around at all the familiar faces, and reality washes over her. She was wrong. We all were until we found the waters and learned the truth. Until we became Castaways.
“The choice is yours, Mara,” Weston calls out, and her head snaps back toward him. “But if any of you hunt my crew, you’ll be the one to answer for it.”
“Alright,” she says, her voice forlorn as she looks around one more time. “I’ll tell everyone. We won’t hunt you, but you can’t hurt any of us either.”
“We haven’t yet,” he says, “and we don’t have any intention to. The only exception is if you attack first. From what I heard, Lennox still didn’t hurt you, even though she should have.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t have a problem punching me in the face.” Mara points at Sig, and I have to stifle a chuckle at Mara’s irritation.