CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EMMERY
Emmery hadn’t believed Briar when she claimed she would leave the next day, and when one day turned into two, and two bled into a week, she stayed at her brother’s side, joined Emmery in the training ring, and even met occasionally with Destonne and Brennen.
In fact, they all found an amicable rhythm with one another, which, in itself, was bizarre.
Fionn still hadn’t woken, though Emmery swore she caught his finger twitching one night, as if crying out, I’m still in here!
When Emmery wasn’t at Fionn’s side or training, despite every cell in her body screaming to flee, Destonne nudged her further into the water.
She’d even managed to float on her back, though her thudding heart had pounded her ribcage like it begged for an escape.
Destonne’s tendency to hover with his hands under her was surprisingly comforting, but she could do without his running commentary.
“I’m still leaning toward the sink or swim method. I’ve heard it’s undeniably effective.”
“Have you given thought to that gift? I’m not getting any younger here. Better looking? Yes. Younger? No.”
“You’re incredibly lucky to have such a handsome, talented mentor. Just think, you could be looking up into anyone’s face, but you get the unmatched joy of staring up into mine.”
She didn’t want to admit it, but he distracted her from the water, sufficiently replacing her fear with annoyance.
It helped chase away those images threatening to drown her in not only her own trauma, but her self-doubt, too.
And she hated that she actually looked forward to her lessons every day, whether it was the tangible increments of progress or the company.
Then, once the thick blanket of night fell, Brennen would escort Emmery to the Tree of Eternal Blood.
It was one of her three demands, the other two being the banishment of her restraints and resuming her magic training.
Destonne had come through on his promises so far and she just hoped his graciousness would continue.
If she remained on good behaviour, maybe they would.
Emmery and the wolf strolled in silence, the moon their only guiding light in the darkness as they headed to Asaella’s tree and the kingdom capital centered around it.
Many of the shop windows were boarded up like long abandoned dreams and the streets were surprisingly empty, though most had likely found shelter for the night.
Emmery kept her hood up, her hair tucked away, the shroud of her vestige hidden by her cloak.
Gods forbid she be recognized. According to Destonne’s lengthy lectures on anonymity, it’d be a fate worse than death.
But if these were his terms, Emmery would meet them with an agreeable smile and a middle finger behind her back.
As the tree came into view, the crimson veins within the bark and familiar thrumming magic drew her in like a siren song calling to something within her.
The leaves, dark as the night sky, rustled in the windswept breeze and waved in greeting.
Cobblestones surrounded the sacred trunk, but the city was only a backdrop to the tree which stood as the beating heart of this forsaken city.
Like usual, Brennen and her shared mutual silence, but today, something had overcome Emmery.
Maybe the small victory of floating on her back without crippling panic, the fire barrier she’d formed in the training ring, or Destonne’s morsel of praise had spurred her on.
"You’re doing well. I may even be impressed. Soon you won’t need me,” he’d said.
Maybe he was trying to get out of the lessons, but she responded with a surge of both smug satisfaction and cheek-reddening bashfulness. But it certainly fed her ego, and she was still flying on that high.
After kicking a stray pebble, she gave Brennen a sideways look. His orange eyes glowed in the night, face complacent as usual, like he simply went through the motions of life but didn’t touch or feel any of it.
“You really don’t say much, do you?” she finally said.
The wolf’s eyes slid to her, focusing on the sliver of her face revealed by her hood. “What would you like me to say?”
“It’s not so much what I want,” Emmery mused. “I’ve been here for some time, with you for much of it, and I know nothing about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
She decided to start small, hopeful not to spook him. “How long have you and Destonne known each other?”
“I met him after Thellonius drove this spike into my neck. So since I was a child. Or a pup, I should say.”
Emmery’s shoulders tensed with uncertainty. Had that been a joke? Should she have laughed? Brennen’s gaze flicked to her and the humorous glimmer in his eyes swept a relieved breath from her lungs. “And what would you call this form?”
“We’re referred to as Lykons,” Brennen kept his gaze fixed on the tree ahead. “Legends say we’re descendants of Hollowhounds.”
Emmery eyed him incredulously. It was hard to believe Brennen could be related to such beasts. She couldn’t see one of those terrifying hounds cracking a joke, and his nature was far too gentle. Too gentle to be associated with Destonne too. “How long have you two worked together?”
“Working is a loose term,” Brennen continued. “Dez didn’t take over the kingdom until just before the war.”
“And what were you before?”
“I was a pet.”
The unemotional delivery of the statement took her aback, but also stoked a furious roaring inside her.
A pet? Like a lap dog? Brennen may not look like a man, but he certainly was one, and for him to be treated as anything else was disgusting.
“He—Destonne kept you as a pet? You, wait, you’re joking right? ”
“Afraid not. But it’s not what you think.”
Emmery studied his profile: the proud length of his snout, his glossy black fur, and the curling horns of a ram. He was a beautiful creature, wild and strong, with a magnetism similar to Destonne’s, though the King’s fed off fear while Brennen spoke of bravery and loyalty.
“Thellonius took me when he raided Asaella. I was a … trophy, of sorts. Dez kept me safe. Saved my life.”
“By treating you as a pet?”
Brennen nodded, though he squirmed almost in discomfort. He seemed to fall into a memory, lost within the quicksand-hold of its depths. “There were nights Thellonius left me out in the snow without food or a place to sleep. Dez would sneak me into his bed and feed me scraps.”
Emmery blanched and her words burned the back of her throat. “He should have done more. There’s no excuse for that.”
“It’s complicated. I don’t want to divulge too much of Dez’s past. I’ll let him share that with you, if he chooses.
” Brennen’s sigh clouded the chilly air.
“Dez is the most important person to me.” At Emmery’s doubtful look he added, “I’m not a prisoner, if that’s what you think. I bear no shackles.”
“So you’re here by choice?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does.” Emmery stepped closer as they strolled side by side. His fur brushed her dark trousers. “The choices we make in life are everything. They’re one of the only things free from Fate’s overbearing hand.” She felt that more than ever with this whole prophecy.
The tree’s pulse thrummed in time with hers as they neared the unmatched power.
It was strange to think of this tree as the final resting place for Deimos and Kahlia’s daughter, Asaella, and her human lover.
What a tragic tale Briar had told her months ago, about the daughters’ choices to be buried with their lovers, forever entwined within the trunks.
Emmery’s fingertips skimmed the rough bark as she sank to her knees. The magic reached back and threaded its ethereal fingers through her own. Her eyes fell shut as Asaella, blessed with fire and burdened by beasts, hummed the melody in her bones.
Brennen cocked his head at Emmery, a studious uptilt to his jowls.
She prayed a small series of well wishes for her family, Aera’s good health, and for Fionn’s speedy recovery.
Emmery added a snip for Vesper in the hopes he healed in his own way.
Her lips moved with unspoken words, spilling from her heart like wine from a finely aged barrel.
A long silence bled into the night before Brennen spoke, his words echoing in her mind in that unnatural way. “Why do you come here, princess?”
“It makes me … feel,” Emmery said, her eyes still shut. “Like I’m part of this broken land. The magic feeds into me somehow, but it’s hard to explain.”
Brennen blinked slowly at the tree as if seeing it in a new light, or perhaps for the first time. “The trees have always made me uneasy.”
Cracking an eyelid, she peeped up at him. “Uneasy?”
“They’re both life and death. A cradle and a coffin.” He stepped cautiously toward the tree and plunked himself down beside her.
“The beginning and end often meet. It's the circle of all things.” The tree root pulsed against Emmery’s hand almost in agreement. “Do you worship the gods?”
“I used to. Now I’m not sure what to place my faith in.”
As Emmery sat back on her heels, her cloak flapped in the brisk breeze.
She hauled it closer around herself and wished she’d worn something thicker than her thin tunic.
It made her think of the King’s warm cloak, how it felt wrapped around her shoulders, how his body heat clung to it, and it caressed her skin like an embrace. “Does Destonne pray?”
Brennen slowly shook his head.
Not much the King did made sense. He seemed to be a series of contradictions, with his malicious actions and unexpected moments of kindness sprinkled in. Always at his own twisted discretion.
Brennen went on, “He hasn’t come to the Invaria Sectam since someone close to him passed. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think he stopped then.”