Chapter 10
Zyla
Of all the peoples in this world, the drei have an unusual mating structure. Women are viewed as equally as powerful as males within the relationship.”
— KARI SILVENDALE, AUTHOR OF A HISTORY OF THE DREI
The next day we set out through a misty morning, forging our way into an overgrown segment of the maze. We lost Kari’s tracks, but Bael doesn’t seem too concerned.
“I know where Rhykus is going,” was all he said.
Bael strides ahead of me in silence, using his sword to slash and hack his way through the thick rose bushes that congest our path.
Not a single blossom blooms, but the thorns are vicious.
There’s something quietly furious about his movements, muscles flexing beneath the tunic, and sweat gleaming on his olive skin.
We pause for a momentary break and I cannot help thinking about the way I woke to find myself beneath his cloak, whilst he dozed nearby, arms crossed over his chest to try and keep himself warm.
It’s a little troubling to realize how deeply I slept.
I never sleep well unless I’m behind a locked door.
“Your arm?” he grunts at me, offering a slice of bread and cheese from his bag.
I swing the arm slowly. “Better.” In fact, there’s barely a twinge. “Thank you.”
Not even a comment about how I must have learned new words in his language overnight.
Bael devours his breakfast, licking the crumbs from his fingers. He’s definitely on the irritable side this morning. “Come. Rhykus will be nearly at his destination and time is wasting.”
And then he sets off again, sweat marks dark against the charcoal linen that shields his back.
I frown at him as I nibble my cheese and follow. “Have I done something to annoy you?”
He shoots me an incredulous look over his shoulder.
“Besides the usual. You’ve been cold all morning. I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”
“I wouldn’t have expected a sense of guilt to be something that concerned you.”
“It’s not guilt, so much as curiosity. Because I know I haven’t done anything this morning. I haven’t… been quite feeling up to it.”
“It’s nothing.” He stomps ahead, clearing the way.
I stare at the enormous outline of his back. “That is an outright lie. You’re angry with me.” I can sense it in his words, in his stiff movements. “Why?”
“I’m not angry with you.” Bael sighs and turns back toward me, sword in hand. “I will get you to the end of this maze. You and this friend of yours. And then we don’t ever have to see each other again. But that is all this is.”
His words feel like a surprise slap. There’s not even a hint of flirtation. Something definitely changed.
I miss his smile. I miss the gentle way he touched my hair last night. I even miss his sarcasm.
But if that is the way he wishes to play the game… “So be it. Where do you think they’re taking Kari?”
“There’s a set of caves on the edge of the Labyrinth, embedded with crystals.
The Baron de Mahl calls it the Crystal Cavern, and he’s of the same ilk as Rhykus.
They sell women there, though it’s not as organised as Rhykus’ operation.
There’s also a portal there, which leads directly to the end of the Labyrinth.
If Rhykus makes the portal, he could take Kari back to his keep in the Iron Kingdoms.” His voice roughens.
“If he returns home, then she is lost to us.”
“How long until we reach it?”
Bael gestures toward the stormy skies above us. “That depends on the weather, on Kasaros, on the other hunters… Tomorrow, if the odds are in our favor.”
“He could be there by tonight then.”
“He could be,” Bael replies. “But the portal requires the Blood Moon to reach its zenith in order to activate. We have two days.”
It should be enough.
“You know my reasons to pursue her,” he suddenly says, “but I don’t know yours. You barely know her. Why risk your life for her?”
“Because you come from a world where a man’s strength and brutality are his greatest weapons.
But I am a bride. We will never be able to overpower these hunters.
Not alone. Our greatest weapon is our friendship, our loyalty to each other.
Only united can we protect ourselves,” I tell him.
“Together, we rise. Alone, we fall, picked apart piece-by-piece by the hunters. Kari sacrificed her safety in order to rescue all the other women. I promised her I’d keep her safe. And I don’t break my promises.”
Bael slashes at one of the darting thorns and the dismembered end retreats with a hiss. “And what happens when your quest brings you to a crossroads?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have two days until Rhykus can escape with Kasaros none the wiser. But you also have another goal. The Beast won’t be here in this maze forever. What if he’s claimed a bride already? What if he’s reached the maze’s end? What’s more important to you? Saving Kari? Or killing the Beast?”
The problem is that it’s not merely about killing the Beast. Do I save Kari, the girl who’s become my friend? Or do I risk it all for a single chance that maybe my sister survived?
“I guess I will make that choice if it comes to it.” I hiss as a darting thorn slashes at my arm. “Ouch.”
Bael turns immediately, lopping off the bramble. He grabs my wrist, turning my arm to see the slash in my sleeve.
“It’s fine.” I don’t want his help, not after his comment, “But that is all this is.”
It’s too confusing.
He swipes the blood away. “Sorry. I missed that one.”
“Is it just me, or does it seem as though the Labyrinth is trying to directly hinder us in a way that it doesn’t seem to hinder others?”
Our gazes meet.
“There’s a possibility Kasaros is fucking with me,” Bael admits.
“Why?”
“I made a bargain with him years ago, never intending to break it. But he’s made it clear he wants me to suffer.”
“Is he not your God?”
“Kasaros represents the masculine energies. Without Amara to counter balance him, he’s grown more savage and volatile over the years. He seeks amusement in our pain, and believes a man’s strength lies in the power he can take for himself. If I’m too weak to deny myself, then I should suffer.”
“That’s ridiculous. What kind of bargain?”
Bael turns and lifts his sword again. “When I was fourteen, my father was killed in battle. My mother was heavily pregnant with my youngest brother, Flynt, and so she was forced to hold our keep against our enemies. She was so strong. So brave. But Tyrga, the clan chief who desired our lands, could not bear to lose to a woman. He brought in catapults and started pounding our walls. Mother used her magic to hold the keep together, but in doing so, she brought about an early labor. The walls could not spare a single warrior, so I was the one who helped bring my brother into this world.”
His voice roughens. “There was too much blood. She had given too much of herself to save our people, and my magic wasn’t yet strong enough to heal her. Mother knew she was dying, but she made me swear to protect my brothers with her last breath. I have four of them. Rowan, Slate, River, and Flynt.”
I glance at his broad back, throat thickening as I feel the pain radiating in his voice.
“The walls were coming down,” he continues.
“I had a screaming baby in my arms, and three terrified children who all looked to me to save them. Our warriors were dying in droves, stricken by a never-ending flight of arrows, and the only one who could save them was me. So I conjured Kasaros and begged him for the full strength that should have been mine once I reached my majority. And he gave it to me. I challenged Tyrga and slaughtered him on the battle field.”
It paints a new picture of my nemesis and I finally feel like I understand him. This man is a protector at heart. It explains everything. The way he can be both furious predator, and also inexplicably gentle. I see his mother now in everything he does.
“Your mother would have been proud of you.”
Bael pauses, glancing down at me. “I think she would have liked you very much.”
“Oh?” I don’t know why that thought makes butterflies dance inside me.
He smiles wryly. “When Tyrga came to Blackfyre Keep with my father’s head in a bag, my mother told him she was going to burn his kingdom to ashes and feed him his own entrails. It reminds me of someone else I know.”
“Is that actually possible?”
“The entrails?” He considers it. “My mother’s magic was strong. She could heal people, so I imagine she could have kept Tyrga alive whilst she disemboweled him.”
“I’m a little surprised she was so… outspoken, considering your world is ruled by men.”
This time, the look he gives me is determined.
“My people are not like many of the other petty kingdoms. My mother and father were mated for life, and she ruled at his side. When he died, the magic that bound them tried to tear her from this world, but she held on for Flynt’s sake.
My father was fire. Wild and erratic and powerful enough to consume an entire army with his magic.
But my mother was a mountain. Stern. Implacable.
Unyielding. Nothing could tear her down when she put her will to it. We honor that in my family.”
“You have magic?” Aylin had magic, but I’ve seen little of his. “What does it do?”
His face shutters. “I can heal a wound. I can kill a man from a distance. Many things.”
That’s not exactly an answer. Why? Is he hiding something?
The suspicion is confirmed when Bael turns toward me, sheathing his sword. “Tell me of your life. Do you have brothers? Sisters? Family?”
And there it is, the heavy weight in my stomach. “My parents died of the plague when I was young. And I had a sister once, but no more.”
His voice softens, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “You’re alone?”
I hadn’t realized how much it hurt until he says those words. The connection he shares with his brothers is too real. It’s been so many years since I’ve seen Aylin’s face. What would it be like to laugh with her once more? To argue with her, the way we used to?
“Yes.”
“What happened to your sister?” Bael asks.