Chapter 21 #2
When the horse labored for breath, I slowed to a canter and slid down.
My knees loosened beneath me. I went to the edge of the cliff, too near, and looked upon the dark, heaving sea.
The wind dragged at my hair, salted with the taste of water and far-off rain.
I heard hooves behind me. I turned. Against the paling sky rode a single figure, Aidenar.
He dismounted next to me. There was no usual swagger in him.
He was grave, intent. He came to me with care.
“Nerissa... please step away from the cliff.”
I didn’t move. The world was spinning, too loud and too fast at once. I was going to fall. My body moved unbalanced.
I grasped the air.
His hand closed on my wrist, strong and sure.
He pulled me close. Before I knew what I was doing, I was nestled against him.
His strong arms held my body. He smelled of lavender and rosemary, as always.
The scent anchored me. Tears began to roll down my cheek.
Not out of grief. Out of helplessness. Out of the feeling that everything is too much for me.
“I am here,” he murmured, thumb brushing salt from my cheek. “You are not alone.” He pressed me and kissed my forehead. I wished to believe those words, though I knew they were not wholly true.
“Did you know?” I asked, scarcely more than a whisper.
“Of the sacrifices, prophecy, darkness and world’s end?” He raised a brow with a bitter half smile. “No.”
He paused. “And you?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t know we were made that way on purpose,” I said. “I thought our powers were a twist of fortune.”
“My sister might have died,” he said, voice firm, then breaking. “I don’t know if I am allowed to feel gratitude that it only took my father.”
“I’m still trying to sort this all out in my head,” I whispered.
We stood a while in silence, with only the wind and the roar of the coast. Aidenar’s gaze stopped on my neck. I saw anger in his eyes.
“You are not safe here,” he said at last.
“None of us is,” I said quietly. “Cedric. What of him?”
Aidenar looked at me with confusion.
“The huntsman who was bitten.”
He lowered his head.
“He could not be saved.”
My knees buckled. Aiden caught me even tighter, as if afraid I would fall. I held onto him with all my strength, gripping the fabric of his coat until my fingers turned white. I wanted all of this to disappear. I wanted all of this to stop.
Aidenar’s hand moved through my hair, slow and deliberate, trying to calm me. Our horses fretted behind us. It was time to go back.
Before we left, I looked at Aidenar. The same boy who had annoyed me no ends, now was the only person who made me feel… less lost. Our kiss seemed far away, stripped of meaning.
Aidenar walked me back to my chambers. At the door my father’s men waited, silent, their armor stained with salt and the dust of travel.
I stopped at the threshold, and Aidenar turned to me. His hand ran over my cheek, as if he meant to say something, but decided against it. He kissed my forehead.
“Rest,” he whispered, and he was gone.
I remained in the half-shadows, heart hammering, emptiness returning with full force. Father sat by the fireplace in a deep chair. He had been speaking with Roderick, who broke off at once when he saw me.
“Leave us,” Victor said quietly.
Roderick bowed and withdrew, leaving us alone.
I knew this conversation was inevitable. Only the crackle of the fire broke the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I finally asked, my voice trembling. “Why did you make the sacrifice?”
Father loosed a heavy breath.
“Your mother insisted.” His gaze softened. “She sees the world’s ending in her dreams, and I love her and I trust her. We thought Alaric would bear the gift, that he would have to stand against the dark. But it fell upon you.”
My hands tightened.
“Does Alaric know? Does he hate me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “We told him the truth. He knows it is not your fault. He loves you, Nerissa. As for us…” he faltered, “he may never forgive. But that is our price, our burden.”
“So there is no cure? Nothing can help him?”
My father shook his head.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked again, soft.
“I wanted you to have hope. Besides, you were too young,” he said. “The knowledge of your power alone was hard on you. I didn’t want to burden you with a prophecy of the world’s end.”
I sat opposite him on a low stool.
Resigned. Spent. I longed for the father from Thalrock, our evenings by the fire when he told his tales for the hundredth time. I knew every word, yet I always waited for him to speak them. They were our bedtime stories, a ritual of safety that was gone now.
And now... we sat across from each other, in the palace of White City, in a silence heavier than stone. With every breath I felt something ending. There was no place left to flee. Even his presence, the one I craved, brought more pain than solace.
And the ships, the contracts? Was it true? Do we truly need them, or was this only a pretext to send me here?”
Father smiled, sorrowful.
“I wanted you to distance yourself from home. To grow up before the storm came. Had I told you the truth, you would never have sailed from Thalrock. And yet... you are here. Looking at you, I know I did the right thing.”
He thought for a moment, then added with a hint of amusement:
“Besides, you did well. I just don’t know how you convinced Cassandra Cavareth to pay for our transportation.”
I raised a brow and managed a pale smile.
“It is a long story. And I’d rather she didn’t know it was our ships carrying the palladium. Let’s keep it that way.”
Father chuckled under his breath.
“Very well.”
We watched the fire for a little while. The heat of the flames reflected in his eyes. For the first time in long months I saw not only strength there, but weariness.
“What now?” I asked.
“You will help me seek,” he said, steady and calm.
I frowned.
“Seek what?”
“Power.” His look grew grave. “Power calls to power, Nerissa. Your mother once showed me. But not tonight. Enough excitement for one day.”
I was silent.
“How is Mother? And Alaric?”
“Alaric is unchanged,” he said quietly. “Your mother is herself, sometimes present, sometimes far away. I left my best men with them. They are safe. But it was she who sent me here.”
“Yes. I know,” I sighed. “Time runs out, the world’s end, as ever.”
My father smiled wryly.
“Exactly.” He rose and came to me and set his hand upon my shoulder.
“Go to sleep now. We’ll start tomorrow.”
I nodded, though I didn’t feel a shred of sleep. After he left, I sat by the fireplace for a long time, staring at the flames that danced like memories.
I did not know if I was ready. But I had no choice left.