Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Sorin
The last of the supplies as well as my mother, the twins, Evren and Tallulah are loaded into the caravans ready to be on their way to the Onyx Guild.
I tighten the reins on Amis and give her a quick kiss on her velvety nose. I’ve made sure to pack Elora and Jarek everything they’ll need for travels, though they will have to share the horse. The thought makes me smile, remembering how appalled Elora had been to share a horse with me the first time we met. Amis whinnies as Ruse joins my side, her large frame towering next to me.
“Hi, girl.” I reach out my hand to pet her, but Hati and Rook come bounding out of the keep, bumping into me as they do. The pups are now nearly as tall as my waist, but their energy reminds me they’re still so young. I smile at their rowdiness then turn to head inside the keep, just to ensure we haven’t forgotten anything.
Just to stall a little longer.
I hate that Elora and Jarek left, and I hate it more that I didn’t go with her.
But damn if she wasn’t right. The meeting with the Lords and Ladies of the Guilds can’t be postponed. I drag a hand through my hair, my boots on the threshold of the keep when I’m tugged backward by my cloak. Glancing over my shoulder, I expect one of the pups but it’s Ruse who has a mouthful of fabric in her mouth. “What is it?”
She nods toward the woods, to where Elora and Jarek have headed off to. Something stirs in my chest, like panic fighting its way through my skin.
My stomach skins. We should have left this morning. Should have risked being seen traveling across the Trinity Forest in the daylight. A wave of dread settles over me like an ink pot spilled to paper. It seeps through each of my pores, staining down to my marrow.
The wind hisses, sending flurries of leaves through the air.
“Sorin!” Sam calls from inside. “Are you almost ready? There’s a storm coming in, we’ll want to get a move on.”
“Be right there,” I say over my shoulder, but Ruse doesn’t let my cloak go and that feeling of dread only intensifies.
She tugs again, making me take a clumsy step toward the woods. Then again, and again.
“Okay, girl.” I pet her snout and when she doesn’t balk away at my touch that feeling of dread is confirmed.
Something’s wrong.
“I’ll check it out if you take care of those rascals first.” I point to the puppies, and she finally drops my cloak, barking softly at the four pups wrestling. They straighten themselves and follow their mother. When they’re safely inside the keep, I pick up my bow and quiver and head straight for the woods.
Sam’s voice fades behind me. My name traveling on the wind, spiraling through the trees. But I follow my gut and trudge forward.
At first, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about the woods. Droplets of water hang from the pine branches. Muddied puddles that more so resemble tiny lakes force me to weave my way through the forest. I trace the horizon, waiting for any sign of movement. But there’s none. No birds. No sway of the wind despite having just felt it moments ago.
The eerie quiet of the forest raises the hair on my arms and back of my neck, but when I spot two sets of boot prints in the mud, my shoulders unclench. My fingers tighten around my bow while I pick up my pace.
Deep in the woods now, I follow what I believe to be Jarek and Elora’s steps. They twist and turn, carving a path along the mud-soaked forest. When their tracks disappear, I perch against a tree to catch my breath. Wishing I had Elora’s ability to speak with the wolves. If I could reach out to Alaric then?—
I stop at the sudden burst of noise. Screaming and shouting, all coming from over the hill a few miles away. I don’t think twice before I bolt in that direction, somehow knowing Elora and Jarek must be there, too.
I should get Sam and Tallulah.
The thought comes and goes quickly. I trudge on and up a small hill, running blindly through the thick forest until I slam directly into something hard. I stumble backward and catch my balance.
“Sorin?” Roman stands before me, his eyes blown wide as he watches me regain composure from my sprint.
“What are you doing here?” I ask through short, strained breaths.
He takes a step backward but I follow him until his back is pinned to a nearby tree.
“Why are you here?” I grit through my teeth, my nocked arrow aimed directly at his chest.
His eyes dart between me and my bow.
“Is Galen with you?”
“No,” he says. “I came to warn you to leave.”
I lower my bow and he takes a thick swallow.
“You’re a little late for that.” I clench my fingers tighter around my bow. “Tell me where Galen is.”
Roman half smiles, straightening himself from the tree. “Why, so you can kill him?” As he asks the question his smile fades and his green eyes drift to the ground. Rain drips from the trees, coating his dark hair and thick lashes.
“Do you want me to kill him?”
His eyes snap to mine but he doesn’t say anything as he pushes off the tree and starts toward the hill.
“Galen will end, Roman. Either by my hand, or yours.”
“You have some nerve,” he says over his shoulder. He takes two more steps when the silence of the forest snaps and an erupt of sound sends both of us jolting backward. Screaming and metal fill the air.
My heart races. I place the unused arrow back in my quiver and push past Roman, determined to follow the sound and find Elora until I’m forcefully tugged backward.
“You’re going to take them all down with a single bow and a few arrows?” Roman chuckles from behind me. His hand slides from my arm when I turn to look at him. A purple stone hangs from his neck, sparkling in the tiny bits of daylight that have managed to break through the storm clouds and trees. Roman must notice my gaze because he reaches up and clutches the stone, tucking it beneath his shirt.
“Is that the magick you’ve stolen?”
His hand tightens around his shirt where the stone lays beneath.
“The magick you’ve hurt people for?” I take a step toward him, and he takes one step away. “Hunted for?” Another step forward. “Killed for.” My anger seeps through my gritted teeth, the sounds of shouting and fighting almost drowned by the pulsing of blood in my ears. We continue this back and forth dance until he’s backed against a tree. His hand remains clutched on the stone, but his face drops.
“All of that is true,” he says. The stone begins to glow, a beautiful purple light, transfixing me in place and then, Roman pushes me out of the way, knocking me backward.
“Roman!” A flock of crows shoots from a nearby tree just as branch snaps to my right as I stand.
“You should run,” Roman says, not several feet away from me. “Get your girl and go. It won’t be long before he’s here. I just wanted to warn you.”
I take a step toward him, but when I do, he disappears again behind the trees.
“Roman!” I slide a new arrow between my fingers, holding it taught against my bowstring. A shiver runs over me as the air turns frigid. Thick, white blankets of fog roll in and despite my initial intuition to trust Roman, the feeling of being cornered like prey has my other instincts kicking in.
The one to survive.
I hold my breath and close my eyes. Screaming and shouting still sound from beyond the hill, but I tune it out and focus on what’s directly before me. The branches sway as the wind changes course, but through the rustling of leaves, I hear him.
Another branch snaps. I smile as I spin and launch an arrow through the fog-ridden trees. A scream sounds and the fog begins to dissipate, turning again to wind and rain.
Not very light on your feet, little brother.
Roman stumbles into view, clutching his arm. It’s brief, but our eyes meet before I hear a distant cry. It could be my name that’s being screamed, I can’t be certain, but the sound slices right through me.
Help me!
Elora’s voice from my dreams echoes in my mind but when Roman groans, I notice then the arrow has only brushed his arm. He cradles the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Roman, we must stop this,” I beg. “I’ve already been deemed the rightful heir, the Guilds will affirm me and the council will have no choice but to follow suit. Galen will be stopped one way or another, but you can end this now.”
He tips his head back, dark curls falling from his face as he screams low and feral. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “I never wanted this. And if you think I have the power to—” Tears line his green eyes silver, but he swallows hard. “I never wanted any of it,” he says again, this time no louder than a whisper. “I only wanted him.” His head hangs heavily, one hand clutches his shoulder where the arrow sliced him open.
“I see that now.” I drop to my knees, the wet moss soaking through my breeches.
The shouting from below us has died down considerably and my feet twitch, ready to run toward Elora.
Roman moans, drawing my attention. He reaches for the stone around his neck but hesitates.
“I’m sorry for that,” I admit, pointing to his arm. “Despite everything, I think you and I could have?—”
“Please,” he says, his green eyes snapping to mine. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.” They glisten with tears again and my heart aches. Still playing the role of Corrupt King even when there is no audience. I suppose it’s a difficult habit to break. The mask you wear to prove yourself to others doesn’t easily slip off.
“Don’t tell me what we could have been,” he says. “It’s no use because we weren’t. I was born for the sole purpose of being king and you got to live your life just as you wanted. Travel as you wanted. Love as you wanted.” There is venom laced in that one word, but more so, there is envy.
“And now,” he continues, “you will take the one thing I have ever had. The one thing I risked everything for. My crown. Without it, I’m nothing.” He runs his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling. The battle in his heart is worn across his face making him look much older than he is. “Perhaps it’s for the best, after what I’ve done.”
“You are not nothing, Roman,” I say. “You are good, I see it in you. You wouldn’t be right here with me if you weren’t.”
His hand slides from his hair, back to his arm where the bleeding has slowed. He watches me but says nothing.
“In every small moment we’ve shared, in every mercy you’ve shown Elora. Crown or not, you are not nothing. We all drift away from ourselves sometimes.” I let out a long breath. “Let me help you find your way again.”
My legs shake as I stand, nerves getting the better of me. “Let me help you. Let me be your brother for a few minutes. At the very least, let me help where I’ve hurt.” I nod to his arm, then place a hand over my heart, where the silver arrow is stitched. An oath of sorts, a promise. If I can somehow get him to Tallulah, she could help with his arm.
His face pales, his head rolling to the side.
“I owe you that much,” I say.
“Don’t believe him.”
My chest tightens, the voice behind me, one I know all too well.
Roman’s eyes widen as he glances just past me, he grapples to take hold of my cloak, but I turn so quickly that he loses balance and falls.
Galen stands before us, his blonde hair grown out slightly from when I saw him last, his blue eyes lined with red. “Sorin, don’t believe a word he says.”
He takes a step forward, flinching when Roman shuffles behind me. As if he’s scared of him.
“Come with me, Sorin.” Galen holds out his hand and my stomach twists. “Please. Help me end this mess that he's started.” His voice wavers and everything I thought I knew morphs into doubt.
Maybe this wasn’t his doing, after all. Maybe it’s Roman I cannot trust. If he saw Elora, perhaps she let him live for that very reason.
“Galen,” Roman cries from behind me.
I glance to where he’s at on the ground. My instinct is to turn to him. Help him and then find Elora, but I’m rooted in place. Caught between a person who I’ve known and loved my entire life and a brother who I barely recognize, yet feel such a strong responsibility for.
“Sorin,” Galen says, drawing my attention back. “I promise you, this isn’t what you think. None of this is what you think.”
His hand is still raised between us, a promise, a beacon. But the longer it’s held there, the longer I stand with my hands at my sides. Something contorts on his face, his composure chipping away.
“You would believe him over me? Your oldest friend?” He drops his hand, eyes falling to Roman who is still behind me.
Roman mutters something, but my body is still stuck. Paralyzed between two worlds.
“If this is about her,” Galen snaps, “whatever Elora told you is a lie .”
The words slither through the air between us, wiping away the doubt I felt earlier. It’s all I needed to hear to know the truth.
The truth lies in the scars around her wrists. In her painful recounts of all the ways Galen hurt her.
“This ends right now, Galen.” My voice shakes, but I’m not embarrassed by it. Something pungent filters through the air, filling my nose. Glancing beyond Galen, down the hill, I see smoke has engulfed the forest.
Elora.
“You hurt her.” I reach behind me for an arrow. “You hurt Loxley.”
Galen stiffens, his eyes watching my hands as I nock an arrow.
“You’ve always been so naive,” he says. “Believing whatever is told. Never questioning or finding answers for yourself.” He takes a step forward, and I pull the arrow taut. “Think for yourself for the first time in your life. Make your own conclusions.”
My fingers betray me as they tremble against my bow. Before I have a chance to decide, Galen lunges at me. He grapples for my bow, his fingers bruising against mine. I manage to shove him off of me as my bow falls to the ground. I don’t have a moment to right myself before he’s back, his fist connecting with my jaw. I grunt, shoving him off of me again. Blood seeps from my nose where he got the first hit.
“This is it, then.” I wipe the blood on the back of my hand. I don’t wait a moment longer before I spring forward and tackle him to the ground. He groans as our bodies collide with the earth. His fingers claw at my arms as I wrap my hand around his throat.
“Sorin,” he says through labored breaths. His eyes meet mine, wide with panic. All our memories push down around me. Our childhood. Our friendship. The many years we trusted each other. Loved each other.
“Sorin,” he says again, this time much more breathless. A plea and the sound of his panic weakens my grip. He claws at my hand before his eyes shut and his body goes slack.
My chest heaves, nausea roiling in my stomach. I bring myself to my feet before grabbing my bow. I turn to help Roman from the ground where he cradles his arm, his eyes bouncing between me and Galen. I try not to think of him lying lifeless on the ground. Try not to focus on the sound of his voice as I stripped him of his last breaths. I wipe my hands on my pants, before reaching out my hand to Roman.
“It’s over,” I say. “If Tallulah is still at the keep, she can help heal you. She can?—”
Roman scrambles to his feet, his eyes going wide.“Wait! Don’t?—”
A sharp pain pierces through my back and chest, snuffing the air inside my lungs. Glancing down, I drop down to my knees.
Roman’s hands slide from my cloak as he buries his face behind them, a broken cry leaving his lips.
My head tilts as a sharp pain blooms throughout my body. I cannot tell what caused the injury. It could be a blade. It could be magick. But the one thing I know for certain is that there’s blood.
A lot of blood.
Too much of it all at once.
“I’m sorry,” Galen says, his voice hoarse.
I force myself to turn, sucking in a sharp breath at the unimaginable pain.
Galen’s eyes are glazed and red, his hands trembling before he steps closer. “I’m sorry,” he says again as he tucks a purple amulet into his shirt.
I gasp, the pain blinding my vision for a moment before I’m tumbling backward.
Galen catches me before I hit the dirt, cradling my head in his lap. “I’ve never used Arma magick before,” he says, almost to himself. Something cold slides against my skin, and I realize the blade Galen used is being manipulated without his hands, through magick kept locked inside that stone; I would guess. My chest tightens further. “Roman must be king,” Galen whispers. “He must be king, Sorin.”
Words fail me as I watch Galen’s face. His eyes are silver lined, his lips downturned.
“Leave, Galen,” Roman growls, now by my side.
The pain has moved from my chest, down to my sides.
Roman glances at me, then yanks off the necklace from around his neck. “Just take this and go.” Roman’s voice shakes but Galen doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for the amulet. He stays, his hands upon my face, his eyes locked on mine. My friend. My brother.
“I trusted you,” I manage to say through a cough.
He flinches, and it’s the first moment I see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. He opens his mouth, then swiftly closes it. He looks to Roman, a muscle in his jaw feathering. “I’ll go when I’m certain you will remain on the throne.” There’s a sharp edge to Galen’s tone, so at odds with the softness he’s holding me with.
Blood pools at the sides of my mouth, causing me to cough.
“Galen,” Roman says again, long and drawn out. As if saying his name alone is a cause of pain.
“This was always the plan,” Galen says. “Now there is no threat to your crown.”
Of course.
“You were my friend.” My chest heaves, each word spewed from laborious breaths. My lungs, desperate to fill the hole in my chest. The effort has me groaning, the pain searing through my body.
Galen closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, my heart cracks.
“You were never supposed to be here, Sorin,” he whispers. His fingers draw through my hair. “You were supposed to stay in Loxley. You had forgotten about the throne until she?—”
I cough again, cutting him off. Blood drips down my nose and despite the fight brewing in my chest, my eyes close.
“Why couldn’t you just let this be!” Roman shouts, it sounds like he’s crying more openly now, and despite the pain, despite the blood, my heart aches for him. He deserved a better chance than this. Deserved a better love than this. It never needed to go this far.
Without another word, Galen slips from under me, laying my head gently in the dirt. Blood seeps through my shirt, coating my entire abdomen. My head is dizzy, and when I crack my eyes open, the two of them are a blur of color before me.
“I have only ever wanted you , Galen. I don’t need this magick, this power,” Roman shouts. He pulls at his hair again, making it stick out in every direction.
Galen’s eyes leave mine as he turns to Roman. “After everything, how can you still be this na?ve? This magick is for you . Everything I have done is for you ,” Galen says much too calmly. “For us. Can’t you see that? We will rule not only Teravie, but every country and continent…” He licks his lips. He looks like hell, his throat red and angry from my hand, but then again, I’ve just been stabbed by an enchanted blade. I’m sure I look like hell too.
“I didn’t want Sorin to get involved,” he says, “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I did what was necessary to keep your place as king. I will sacrifice every damn person left in Teravie if it ensures you never have to be treated the way your father treated you again. To ensure no harm will come to another person at the hand of an Enchantress.” Galen pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s the smallest gesture, and for a moment, I forget what he’s done. For a moment, I only see Galen, my friend. My closest ally. The brooding scholar with a passion for knowledge and life.
“I have guaranteed that you will go down as the most powerful king in history,” he continues. “For the first time in our lives, we are the ones they fear, not the other way around. Is that not enough for you Roman? Is all this sacrifice not proof enough of my love?”
Roman straightens himself, wiping a hand down his face. He winces, gripping his arm but the bleeding has slowed and a sweep of ease washes over me.
He’ll be okay.
“What good is love when it ends in blood?” Roman says. “What good is power when there is nothing left of the world? What good is magick when all it does is burn and destroy?”
They stare at each other but say nothing else. Galen has warped his own mind into believing that what’s done to the Enchantresses is for Roman’s own good and not for himself. For his desire to be the best. To avenge his sister. I fight to keep my eyes open.
Just a little longer. Stay awake a little longer.
“Sorin!” Sam’s voice lights a flicker of hope in my chest. She’ll be here any moment. She will be here, and all will be okay. Tallulah will help heal me and Elora will?—
Come on, Sam. Please hurry.
I reach my hand for Roman, for one last chance to keep him here with me, but I’m too late.
Galen drags him by his weak arm toward the trees. Roman doesn’t fight him, and I’m not surprised. They have burned the world hand in hand in the name of love, even if it’s one that is virulent and hopeless.
My head is heavy as I roll onto my side. Galen turns, meeting my eyes. His steps falter for a moment before he’s slipping through the trees with a shattered Roman in tow.
My eyes are heavy, fighting to stay open, and when they finally close, a small swatch of yellow is the last thing I see before my vision goes dark and the world around me quiets.
Mother be damned, I really do hate silence.