39
Fucking Olivia.
Moths have been fluttering around that bitch for days now. As she stood in the bedroom while I recovered, moths bumped against the window. As she sat at the dying campfire, moths fluttered around her head.
Olivia has my pendant.
I storm through the forest, wishing that I had the ability to fly, because every step I take, my shoulders blaze with fire and my eyes burn so hard and so bright, my face hurts. I break into a run as I see Veril’s cottage ahead.
From a quick scan of the gardens, I see that Olivia isn’t sitting at their campfire. If it’s dinnertime, then she’s inside, fork to her face, enjoying a meal even though she knows I’m in the fucking woods searching for something that isn’t there.
I burst into Veril’s cottage.
Veril, startled, drops the vial he’s holding.
No one’s seated at the table with dinner. No one’s resting in the chairs.
“Where is she?” I growl.
Veril stares as though he’s facing a dragon.
I’m so hot that I may actually become one.
“If you’re looking for Olivia,” he says, his voice shaky, “she isn’t here. The last time I saw her—”
I whirl away from him and stomp out of the cottage. She’s not in the garden and forge area—just Jadon sharpening his blade.
He smiles. “Hey! You’re—”
I whirl away from him and stomp to the other side of the cottage.
I scan the campfire—mugs, handkerchiefs, crabapple cores, blankets. Lumpy blankets. I whip off the blankets and uncover three satchels Olivia carried from Maford. I reach for the smallest but instead choose the black leather satchel, the largest of the three.
Veril rounds the cottage with Jadon right behind.
“What’s happened?” Veril asks.
“What’s wrong?” Jadon asks.
I open the bag.
“Your sister is a fucking liar,” I growl.
I dump the bag’s contents onto the blankets. Poufs of tulle and swatches of silk are the first items to tumble out of the bag. Then: black jet stones. Purple amethyst. Blue and white lapis lazuli, sand jasper.
Veril gasps. “Those gems are mine.”
“I know.” I look over to the old man. “You didn’t give them to her, did you?” I lift an eyebrow at Jadon. “Of course he didn’t.” I continue emptying the bag. At last, my cloak, rolled into a neat ball, comes falling out. My fingers tingle from just touching it. I shake it out, and the bloodred fabric glimmers in the twilight.
“Kai,” Jadon says, “if you wanted your clothes back, you could have just asked.”
“I have asked. Over and over again.” I throw my cape around my shoulders. Immediately, the blood in my veins thickens and my torso tightens. I keep shaking the satchel. More tulle and fabric, and the plant chart Veril gave me. My black leather gloves! My bloodred vest, my black leather breeches. One more shake.
No amulet.
I glare at Jadon. “Where’s my pendant?”
He holds up his hands. “Calm down.”
“Did you know?” I ask, pushing off my borrowed breeches, not caring who the fuck sees. “That your sister has my pendant.”
He frowns. “Why would you think that?”
I pull on my breeches, the ones with etchings of elks and whorls, and nearly collapse from the surge of power rushing through my legs. I take off the borrowed tunic, replacing it with my leather vest. More air in my chest. More strength in my spine. On with my black leather gloves. I feel my fingers lengthening. Just touching the suede, tracing the outline of the elk and owl on my palms, feeling the soft leather of my vest against my skin? Better than a bath. My bones feel sturdier, my mind clearer. Feels so good. I could have felt like this all along.
Teeth clenched, I turn to Jadon and ask again. “Did. You. Know? ”
“Of course not,” he says, “but Kai, you have to calm down.”
“Oh, I’m calm,” I say, hands buzzing. “Watch me become even calmer .”
Jadon pales and turns to Veril. “Will you reason with her?”
“About what?” the old man asks. “We’ve seen her when she’s not calm. She hasn’t even raised her voice yet, and in this instance, I find her restraint… admirable. ”
I smile at Veril. “Thank you.” I grab the second satchel and dump out its contents: dresses, fabric, headpieces, gloves, skirts. Nothing here belongs to Veril or me.
The last satchel: tunics, dresses, tulle, more tulle, swatches of satin and velvet.
No amulet.
“Kai,” Jadon says, “I’m begging you now to not do anything you’ll regret.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” I gather Olivia’s things in my arms, turn around, and very calmly dump all of it over the campfire.
Sparks shoot high and explode like stars and lava, and the fire roars to life after being fed. The surrounding camp now boils with sudden heat. The destruction of Olivia’s things makes me dizzy, but it’s a good kind of dizzy—like I’m witnessing flowers bloom in front of me or watching a baker pull from his oven dozens of honeycakes made just for me.
“And I don’t regret it,” I say.
Jadon’s face is red, his eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t have done that.” By the hardness of his jaw and the tightness of these words, he’s trying to remain calm.
I point at Veril. “I should’ve never doubted you. You were right.”
Don’t trust anyone to bring you that which makes you whole. They may not want you whole.
“What does that mean?” Jadon asks.
“Tell me,” I shout at him, eyes hot with tears. “Where is my pendant? Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Jadon scrapes his fingers through his hair.
Is there at least one person who matters to you, who you wouldn’t want to see perish?
I scan the rose-orange sky. “While I was searching in the woods for an amulet that was no longer in the woods, I had an interesting experience. There I was, kneeling on the forest floor, swiping my bare hand around in the dirt like a mudscraper, and a visitor happened upon me.” I look at Veril with a raised eyebrow. “Sybel.”
“Who?” Jadon asks.
“You know her as the Lady of Dawn and Dusk,” Veril says, dragging his gaze to Jadon.
Jadon crosses his arms and blinks at me with flat blue eyes. “And?”
“She told me who I am.”
“And?”
“I’m not a mage from Peria or Steedale or anywhere,” I tell him. “I’m from everywhere. I’m the Lady of the Verdant Realm.”
Jadon’s eyes come back to life but immediately drop back into flat and blue.
Veril holds his hands before him, prayer-style, and dips his head. “Kaivara. Lady—”
“No.” Jadon pushes his forehead with the heel of his hand. “People in Peria have sewn and stitched circles, swirls, and elks on their clothes since the beginnings of the realms. They brand it on their horses’ rumps, and they carry totems of this goddess, Kaivara.”
I turn to Veril. “Could you excuse us for a moment?”
The Renrian, his eyes bright lavender, nods and shuffles back into the cottage.
“Sybel shared bad news,” I say, heaving a breath to calm my angry nerves. This is Jadon, I remind myself. My feelings for him go beyond my fury at his sister. At least I hope they do.
“We’re in trouble,” I tell him. “Not just you, me, our little group here—including the thief—but the realm. There are entities that I can’t even get into explaining right now, but they’re working to destroy Vallendor, and all this may sound… delusional , but I must stop that from happening even though I have no idea how I’m going to do it.”
He remains stone still, studying me.
“Believe me: I wanted to laugh in Sybel’s face when she told me,” I continue, “because I hated Maford and Wake and the violent creatures in this world. I have no interest in saving this realm. But Sybel made very clear that my job, my purpose is to protect Vallendor. She saw me wavering, and then she asked me an important question. My answer involved you.”
His skin flushes, and the muscles in his jaw flex. “Me.”
My chest constricts. “She asked if there was just one person I wouldn’t want to see perish. And that person is you . You are part of the reason I’m gonna do whatever I’m supposed to do. But the way you took your sister’s side—it’s making me reconsider.”
His mood shifts, and now his eyes fill with… Sadness? Awe? Shame? Whatever it is makes him take a step away. “It’s true . ” That’s the one thought he thinks and thinks and thinks until…silence.
No, this isn’t awe on his face, and worry skitters down my spine.
“We need to deal with this, right now.” I take a step closer. “We’ve been having a great time, flirting and dancing around this, but if you and I are to remain friends, or even go beyond that, we must be honest. We can’t keep secrets from each other that could determine if one of us lives or dies; that can’t happen. There can’t be an us—”
“There is no ‘us,’ Kai. There never was,” Jadon interrupts with a frown and, with great effort, takes two steps back.
I blink at him, confused. “Yesterday, we were a breath away from fucking in that tub, and now you’re telling me that I imagined that? You’ve decided you and I are done because you’re pissed that I called your sister what she is?”
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Then says, “I can’t.”
And that’s it. He turns away from me and marches toward the forge.
“Why are you running away?” I shout at his back. Small spikes of anger stab my heart, but then one spike becomes a lightning bolt in my chest, and I yell, “Only cowards run!”
His shoulders droop, then stiffen—I hit my target. He returns to me now, his eyes a hurricane of emotion, stopping only feet away. “There is no ‘us,’ Lady. ”
My mouth tastes like wood shavings; my tongue is numb as I stare at his beautiful face. “Then I don’t need you to come with me.”
He shrugs, his expression unreadable. “That’s probably best.”
My body numbs. I can’t feel my feet or my lips as I shout toward the cottage. “Veril!”
The old man hurries back to the garden, avoiding Jadon’s eyes. “Yes?”
I clutch my elbows to keep mania from bursting through my chest to my hands and destroying everything around me. “Pack up. We’re leaving. It will be only you and me.”
Veril straightens. “Pardon?”
“We’re heading to Caburh,” I say. “I need as much armor as possible. And then we head to Mount Devour.” My skin hurts as though I’ve been stung by every mosquito in Vallendor. There’s no armor strong enough to protect me from this war waging in my heart.
“Of course,” Veril says, then hurries back to the cottage.
I’m not mad. No, I’m…sad? Perplexed? Angry? Conflicted? I’m all those things, and now I labor to take a simple breath. How could I have been so fucking foolish? So clueless?
Hands on my hips, I turn to Jadon. “Do I get to keep Fury and Little Lava? Or do you plan to steal those back while you’re taking back everything else?”
He rolls his eyes to the sky. “Keep them. Give them back. It’s up to you.”
Breathe . My lungs refuse. Mouth hard and heart harder, I drop Fury to the ground, and then I lift my pants leg and pull the dagger from its sheath and throw it toward his feet with enough force that it punctures the earth and stands upright in the grass.
“Help!”
Jadon and I both stiffen. That was Philia’s voice. She bursts into the garden, crying, fear streaking her face. She glows an urgent amber. Blood stains the front of her dress. “Jadon,” she whimpers, collapsing before him.
“Otherworldly?” Jadon asks.
Philia’s lips are split and bloody. Her neck shows the start of new bruising, and patches of scalp bleed where her copper hair used to be. The front of her chartreuse dress is bright with blood, and she cups her hand there as if she’s holding in her guts, wincing every time she tries to take a breath. She’s wearing a long blue coat with a gray collar over that bloody dress and boots with silver buckles. Traveling clothes. And none of it looks like it actually fits her.
“They…they…” she chokes out. “Olivia…”
“Where is she?” Jadon asks. “Is she hurt?”
Philia’s breath twists into sobs. “They took Livvy.”
“Who?” Jadon shouts.
“Philia,” I whisper, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. “We’ll fix you up, okay? Take a breath. Let’s figure it out.”
Veril rushes over. “I heard the commotion and thought more battabies, but now I see… Oh dear.” He scans Philia’s body, resting finally on her abdomen. “I’ll go get something.” He hurries back into the cottage.
The young woman’s face turns gray. “Something inside me is broken,” she murmurs, her lips trembling. Then she looks at me, and a teardrop falls onto my hand. “We found your amulet. Please forgive me.”
Her confirmation makes my face go numb—I can’t even speak.
“When did she find it?” Jadon hisses.
Veril returns to the garden with vials of silver liquid.
Philia quivers. “After the burnu fight.” She looks at me, guilt swamping her face. “It was right there on the path after you fell on the way here.” Fat teardrops tumble down her cheeks. “I wanted to give it to you, Kai, but once Olivia put it on, she refused to take it off. She said she felt more with it . And with the cape, boots, and gloves, she’d be even more powerful.”
I dip my forehead to my knee. Dizzier and dizzier.
Philia trembles, and I can’t tell if it’s pain she’s experiencing or sorrow. She swallows, then says, “But then she decided to sell it along with the clothes and the storybook so we would have enough to find a place of our own and money to start our life together—”
She looks to Jadon. “And so you didn’t have to choose between us and Kai. We were out scouting the best route to Vinevridth, but these men took her.”
So much anger is burning in my eyes, I can barely see. “ Who took her?”
Jadon asks, “What did they look like?”
“Did she still have the amulet?” Veril asks. “Or did these men take that, too?”
Philia doesn’t answer us. Only sinks lower to the dirt.
I pluck the vial of silver tonic from Veril’s hands and remove the stopper. The air now smells like sulfur. “This stinks, but you’ll need to drink it, Phily.” I pour the concoction between her bloody lips.
Philia jerks in my arms, and her eyes turn liquid and vacant. “They were going to Weeton… Big…red…soldiers.”
I go icy cold as Veril and I exchange a look. Is she talking about Elyn and her guards? “Philia,” I say, “where’s the amulet?”
The young woman’s face clears, and her breathing becomes rhythmic again. She sits up, wobbly still, but I catch her. She looks back at me with crumpled eyebrows. “I’m so sorry. I-I-I should’ve been braver. I didn’t know what to do. I love her.”
I stand, leaving her seated on the ground.
What we do for love: aid and abet a thief. Save a realm.
“We’ll find her, right?” Philia whimpers.
Is it possible to hate someone but wish them happiness? I want Olivia and Philia to find a safe place. I want Olivia to open a dress shop and make lots of money off rich people. I want them to sit together by the fire and trade stories about that wild time they ran from otherworldly. I want all these good things for someone who stole from me. Veril and I told Olivia just how dangerous it was to wear that pendant. She remained selfish and spoiled, and now she’s gone. And so is my amulet and perhaps the realm itself.