Chapter Twenty-Four Riela #2
left Garrick behind, so I pushed myself up and staggered toward the entrance.
I made it three steps before Garrick caught me.
He grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around. Grim growled, but my head was reeling too much to figure out if it was warning
or encouragement.
“How did you open the door?” Garrick demanded. His eyes were solid, glowing silver, and his magic whipped around him in a
storm of moonlight that was brighter than I’d ever seen it.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I whimpered. “I didn’t do anything. Please let me go.”
Garrick dragged me back to the dais by my unbroken left wrist. “Open it again or die.”
“I don’t know how!” I shouted through the tears. “I thought I was hallucinating the first time it happened because I’d just been tossed by
both a giant magical wolf and an explosion. I didn’t even know it was a door! So you might as well go ahead and kill me, because
that’s all Etheri sovereigns are good at, isn’t it? And if I’m dead, then you won’t have to admit you made a fucking mistake!”
My voice broke with the force of my scream. I sucked in a great gulp of air and my knees trembled, but I squared my shoulders and defiantly met his stare. If I was going to die at the hands of an Etheri, then I was going to go down swinging, for all the good it would do me.
Grim limped up the steps to the dais, then sat at my side. Garrick looked at the wolf for a moment before studying me intently.
His magic wrapped around me in a storm of moonlight. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable, either. It felt
like he could see my every thought and emotion while he passed judgment.
After a long moment, the Etheri king exhaled roughly, and his magic calmed somewhat. “I’ve been trying to reopen this door
for a hundred years,” he murmured. “And you did it without even knowing it was a door.”
He let me go, and my wrist throbbed. But it wasn’t broken, and that was good enough. I stumbled away from him and awkwardly
drew the dagger at my waist with my left hand. I held it between us with fingers that shook and slowly backed away.
Everything hurt, and I didn’t have my cloak, but I couldn’t stay here. I should’ve left last night, before I’d let loneliness
and desire and hope override good sense.
At least then I would’ve been able to grab my pack.
I felt for the edge of the dais with my foot and stepped down without looking back, as if I could prevent an Etheri sovereign
from attacking with the power of my gaze and a small piece of pointy metal.
The large step jarred my right wrist, and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
Garrick’s eyes narrowed. “You are hurt.”
“Just now noticing?” I taunted, my tone bitter. “I was hurt before you arrived, and when you grabbed me, I told you that you
were hurting me, in case my screams weren’t clear enough. You didn’t listen, so now I’m hurt worse.”
My chest ached with betrayal. I’d trusted him, but it was obvious that he’d never returned that trust, no matter what pretty
words about hope he’d given me. I blinked back tears. I had to get away before I could fall to pieces.
The fierce lines of Garrick’s face softened as he stepped toward me, but I shied back, brandishing the dagger. I wouldn’t be fooled again so easily. “You’ve done enough, thanks. Just stay over there.”
Agony flashed through his eyes, but he held his arms up and stayed where he was. When I started slowly backing across the
clearing, he followed, keeping the same distance between us. His magic swept through me, healing my wounds. I hissed as my
right wrist was healed, and in the blink of an eye, Garrick was directly in front of me, his chest pressing against the tip
of my dagger.
I steeled my arm against the urge to yank the blade back. Then there would be nothing between us, and that would be worse
than accidentally stabbing him.
Maybe. The thought of the blade sinking into his flesh made me faintly nauseated, but if he was going to act like a threat,
then I was going to treat him like one.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Healing you.”
I shook my head. “The damage you caused is not so easily healed.”
“I know. I am sorry,” he said, and the words rang with quiet sincerity. “When I saw you disappear through the door that I’ve
been trying to open for years, jealousy, betrayal, and fury overwhelmed me, and I stopped thinking.”
He shook his head with something like self-disgust. “I’ve been betrayed before, but that is no excuse. I have no excuse. I deeply regret hurting you, and I hope, in time, you will be able to forgive me. You should’ve been safe in my
house, and I failed you twice. It will not happen again.”
“Not until the next time you lose your temper and stop thinking,” I muttered.
His magic gently curled around me, and his expression hardened into steely resolve. “There will not be a next time. Any harm
I cause you, by accident or intent, unless it’s necessary to save your life or heal you, will be transferred to me tenfold,
until such a time you attack me or mine. This I vow by stone and silver.”
Magic snapped taut between us, but I frowned, unwilling to trust it. “What stops you from breaking your vow when it’s convenient for you?”
“Honor,” he replied at once. Before I could scoff, he added, “And magic. If I attempt to hurt you, your pain will transfer
to me, ten times as strong.” He lifted his hand, palm up, and reached for me. “Allow me to demonstrate.”
I pressed the blade more firmly into his tunic. “No. You’ve hurt me enough, thank you.”
Sorrow and regret flicked over his face. “You will feel no pain, I swear it.”
I almost believed him, but almost wasn’t good enough. “I am leaving. Will you let me or am I going to have to stab you?”
His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists. “That’s the first time I’ve seen my people in over a hundred years, and
you’re the key. I will give you anything you want in return for your help. Name your price.”
I hardened my heart. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
His eyes narrowed. “The forest isn’t safe.”
“Also not an answer.” Nerves made my fingers tremble. Even with a dagger at his heart, if it came to a fight, I wouldn’t win.
“You are not a prisoner,” he ground out, every word forced unwillingly from his throat.
“Good, then I want to leave.”
“Will you return?”
I met his flat stare with one of my own. “I don’t know.”