11. Falling
We had packed up and left at first light as promised. Crossing a fast-moving creek, we stopped and made a quick camp in the old forest once the clearing of sulfur pools could be seen through the blackened, twisted trees.
Arit had practically begged for a private moment with his beloved. I couldn”t blame him for concluding she was already lost and he wanted every last moment with her. Maybe Eth was right. Maybe I was squandering my limited time left on an impossible hope.
But I was happy to give them privacy. This morning, she was clear-headed, and I didn”t know how many more days she might be lucid—it might be only hours more. That time was now precious.
I set off half-heartedly to explore beyond the campsite, moving slowly through the clearing with heated pools. The closer we approached the volcano, the more underground lava flows must have been near the surface, I reasoned. The soil itself radiated a pleasant warmth. I wondered if that was the case year-round. It must be stifling in the summer.
A slight odor of sulfur tainted the water of the clear pools; yellow rings in striation adorned each. But smelling of eggs seemed a fair trade for clean skin. There was no reason I couldn”t take the opportunity to bathe in the warm liquid. I knew I had time to kill, so I was unafraid of shedding all clothing. The ardent volcanic air smelled faintly of ash but warmed my skin.
Letting myself sink under the surface, I crouched at the bottom of the pool, holding my breath. The precious warmth unlocked a surprising childhood memory. One, two, three, four, five, six—Gingel and I had always made a game of bath time. The servants would fill the wooden tubs with warm water, lavender, and shildra blossoms. We would dunk and hold our breath, competing to see who could hold ourselves under the longest.
She always trounced me, and I would respond with a charge of foul play. It was perhaps the only thing she excelled beyond me, so I didn”t begrudge her too much. I was mostly in awe—seven, eight, nine, ten.
I broke the surface, head and shoulders, reveling in the simple joy of water cascading over my head and streaming down my body. I smoothed my hands over my hair, pushing the warmth down the back of my neck. With the onset of colder weather, it had been too long since I could submerge completely. Not since the heat of summer. This afforded me a chance to examine my body.
The lack of food and hard labor had stripped my soft layers. My ribs were easily felt but not protruding. The length of my thighs was smooth and soft, but little remained of the winter stores an adult woman should carry on her body. Still, I felt strong enough in my body to accomplish the task that remained. The end was in sight.
My mind was another matter. I could feel a change in my mood since Eth revealed the new thread. More than that, my entire outlook had transformed. Untamed. Off-kilter. All rules and expectations had been wiped away. Everything I thought my life would be was obliterated. In my single-minded pursuit of this cure, I had removed so many fail-safes, the protections I had relied on. I would do anything to accomplish my goal. But I was beginning to believe that I had removed too much—left myself vulnerable. Maybe I had been this vulnerable the entire time; I was simply untested.
When this is over, I”ll have time to fix what I”ve done to myself. I need to stay in this mindset to make it to the end, don”t I?
The image of the pulsing thread, that connection to him, haunted my dreams in the night, but I awoke with a peace I barely understood. I believed him when he said it had no demand. Maybe it was a request, a question waiting for an answer, but my ears couldn”t hear it. Eth didn”t fear it, but I wondered if there were anything he would fear.
I had been ignoring what happened after he produced my thread. But in trying to not think of it, I opened wide the door. Never before had I been so unsure how I felt about a thing. I closed my eyes, conjuring the feeling of his lips on mine, his presence so close. Even now, thinking of him sent rivulets of throbbing desire racing down my torso. You”ve known him for what? A week? Maybe less?
And he will be gone when I cure Gingel.
Comingled with desire was a new fear—the unknown—what it meant to be close to him, even for so short a time. But this fear hadn”t fully taken root, and I refused to let it.
I had learned to live with fear since the day those twisted, mutated abominations tore apart my home and decimated my family. Fear of failure. Fear of capture. Fear of something happening to Gingel. But I didn”t fear my own death now, I realized. If that was what my thread required, I could sigh and accept that this life had been a worthless waste of time. The only thing I couldn”t accept was Gingel”s death.
Water trickled over my eyes, my fingers wiping the surface of my lids before I opened them. At the forest”s edge, I just caught the figure of Eth reclined against a tree, watching me, his back to our camp. I wondered if we had returned to him showing up when I thought about him.
”Do you make it a habit to spy on bathing maidens?”
He blinked, looking at the ground for a moment.
”That was not my intention. Please forgive me.”
”I jest, Eth,” I said, a shyness coloring my words more than I intended.
I was distracted by his appearance, crossing my arms as I leaned over the edge of the pool. The hair on his head had grown since last night, the short strands fully darkening his crown. His eyes were still as dark as pitch, but a fullness rounded the bones in his face. He was changing more every time I saw him. I was certain at this point.
My body reacted to his presence, my nakedness wanting to hide itself at first, a blush rising on my skin. I should have left him alone or asked him to go away. But I didn”t want to.
Grabbing my tunic, I slowly emerged from the pool and discreetly pulled the garment over my head, my eyes unwavering as I observed him. Streams of water traveled down the length of my legs as I walked over the warm earth to him. He looked away from me as I approached, uncomfortable.
”Is something wrong? Have you discovered the new thread”s purpose?” His eyes met mine at the mention of the thread.
”I have not.”
”Are you upset with me?” I asked. He inclined his head only slightly, that almost imperceptible curve of a smile returning.
”I would ask you the same. You seemed…troubled last night.”
I nodded. ”Yesterday was overwhelming.”
”Forgive me. I took liberties I should not have.” He seemed to shrink again, contracting away from me. I moved quickly to stand before him, gingerly placing a hand over his heart.
”It wasn”t that, the kiss. The thread. The crimson thread has caused an agitation. But I trust you that it doesn”t have a demand. I will endeavor to remain calm.”
He looked down at his chest, placing his hand over mine in a fluid, easy movement.
”Did I not overstep?” His free hand slid along my hairline as it smoothed my wet hair from my face. My heart cued up a faster beat, the heat of my blood rivaling the volcanic air. I shook my head.
Kiss me.
Mirroring my motion from before, he slid his thumb over my lower lip.
”Please…again?” Why does asking for what I want feel so wrong?
There was a speed to his actions that felt unnatural as he claimed my mouth a second time. His hand over mine curled to grasp it, the other hiding itself at the back of my neck as he held me close. Where our connection last night was static, touch alone, this kiss brought with it a rhythm, a pulse. Twisting as we joined, I felt the slick of his tongue barely graze the loose furrow of my lips. I inhaled the smallest gasp as he did, allowing entry.
I stilled as his tongue explored me coyly. Polite and unhurried. Not wanting to seem rude, my own tongue met his, sliding beneath, arching along the smooth texture. Then, just as quickly as he had begun, he left, coaxing my chin up and to the side as he moved to nuzzle the soft skin at my throat. A trail of kisses cascaded down to the dip of my shoulder. There was no avoiding the quivering moan he elicited. I wanted to weep when he paused, his cheek pressed against the length of my neck.
”I remember. Last night, you brought back so much I had lost…”
”What did you remember?”
”I remember…this.” He murmured against my shoulder. ”Intimacy. The feel of a woman”s skin, the heat of it. A lover.” There was no pain in his voice this time, no grimace.
”The woman you loved? Died for?”
”No…others. Before her.”
I was burning now, a column of flame hollowing out the center of my being. Frozen in place, my flesh was on the cusp of losing containment of the wild desperation that threw itself against the confines of my mortal cage.
”Show me…”
He left the tingling skin of my neck as he slowly came to face me.
”You would…have me—”
”Yes.” I interrupted him.
He said nothing, made no move. I saw him smile, but it didn”t come from his mouth. His mouth was firm, unmoving, but his eyes. His eyes. They took all the colors of joy, relief, longing, and sadness, melding them into a shadow of such depth. That shadow smiled at me, unfolding each emotion as it danced in his gaze.
”Touch me like a lover,” I whispered. ”Anywhere. Everywhere.” His face leaned forward, his forehead meeting mine. The energy, that vibration on his skin, hummed. His hands grasped the sides of my tunic, drawing it up slowly. Too slow. I crossed my arms, grasping the damp fabric at the waist, and hauled it over my head.
Eth pulled away just enough to study me as I presented myself, a blank canvas for his art. I could see his eyes shift back and forth, taking me in. His hands raised, settling along my face. Tracing the natural lines of my body, he did as he was asked. I closed my eyes and held my breath; the only remedy against the wild cry fighting to escape me. His fingers painted lines across my jaw, gliding down my neck. His thumbs moved across my collarbones, over my shoulders. Flat palms circled my shoulder blades.
He worked symmetrically, each hand mirroring the other, rubbing my wet skin as he moved down my back. Sweeping over the roundness of my ass, his hands returned to my front. He slid up my torso, stopping to cradle my breasts in a caress, his thumbs casually sweeping across their teased peaks. It was too much. I lost my battle with silence, an aching moan birthed from a stifled whimper.
Undeterred, he slipped one hand behind me, splaying out to fill the space at the small of my back. His other hand, pressed against my soft waist, turned to descend. My hand met his, guiding his finger between my legs, placing it where my own had often visited, giving rise to that sweet friction I so desperately wanted.
I watched him, his gaze unwavering. Mine was less so, the pleasure he coaxed from me overwhelming my control, my eyes closing, chin tilting. I wanted to fall back, thoughts leaving the world behind, swimming in ecstasy, but I forced myself to come back to watch him every time I felt myself slipping.
His devotion to the task singleminded, and he quickly brought me to my peak. Unbidden, my hand reached for his face as the wave crashed over me. My knees threatened to remove their support, and I swayed against him. He leaned in, his cheek gliding along mine as his hand on my back slid higher. Quivering, shaken, and spent, I reached down to relieve him, but he resisted. He pulled me closer as his hand between my legs moved deeper, offering a slow caress of the sensitive skin. I couldn”t stop my eyes from closing.
Waiting for just a moment, the only sound my heavy breaths, I pulled back from him, finding my hand still touching his cheek. He looked at me, and I smiled weakly.
This is what it is, to want to knit yourself to someone so wholly? What I have been afraid of for so long?
That snapped me from my daydream; my eyes flew open. I realized what had broken last night in that one moment—that place deep inside—the need to find your other half, what Father had said he found in Mother. I had long ago stitched up that hole in my heart and never thought of it again. Ripped open, carelessly. My euphoria disappeared instantly, leaving me empty. There was no way Eth could fill that void, but my heart had been fooled for just a moment too long. I had wanted to deceive it.
I stepped back from him, needing to bolt, just run away, anywhere; needed to be alone so I could adequately berate myself. Foolish girl. Wrestling control of the urge to flee, I stepped back slowly. ”I should be getting back...”
”As you wish.” His eyelids flickered as he looked down, his face tilting back toward camp. I couldn”t bear to have him think that this wasn”t anything other than a breathtaking experience. It was. But that wound, that hole in my heart, was spilling liquid agony now. I caressed his pale cheek and smiled.
”Thank you.”
A single tear fell as I turned, running along the side of my cheek, quickly wiped away. I quietly dressed and walked in the opposite direction, hoping he could not follow farther than the tether would allow. I glanced back. He was still there, watching me walk away.