Chapter 22
“Balance is what life craves, and without it, everything will perish.
Even the gods have their limitations.”
- The Old Book
The first breath of tundra air cut like glass. As glad as I was to see the sun again, the blistering wind outside the caves jolted my senses.
It was the bitter season, and we were in the Great North.
The landscape was white with snow, and the temperature was well below freezing.
Rowan said that traveling in winter was safer because most of the beasts inhabiting this part of the region were hibernating.
He said it was a matter of choosing the lesser evil, and I wasn’t sure I agreed with him on which was which.
He merely asked, “Would you rather lose a toe or your life?”
I’d kept Rowan’s accidental revelation about our final destination a secret.
The other culled still despised me, and I was not looking forward to sharing a tent with them once more.
We had slept in the open while journeying throughout the underpass, so there were no opportunities for the culled to harm me without being caught. Now there would be.
I spent the first night in the tent rubbing the hilt of my knife repeatedly and keeping my eyes open, watching the others warily as they slept. I hadn’t dared to close my eyes for longer than a second.
Lily had given me a knowing smirk. The others huddled close together for warmth, but since I didn’t have that option, I silently shook and gripped my blankets tight the entire night.
The next morning, I kept nodding off while riding. I was just as terrified to sleep while riding with Rowan as I was in the communal tent. Both fears had their reasons, of course.
“Are you going to tell me why you are swaying with such force that my arms can barely keep you upright?” His voice brought me back to reality, and I blinked twice to clear my vision.
“I didn’t sleep well,” I murmured, barely avoiding slurring my speech. I was beyond exhausted.
“And why is that?” Rowan pressed.
I shrugged.
Rowan grunted—apparently, he didn’t appreciate having the gesture turned on him.
“Answer the question, Mavis,” he demanded.
“There may have been some miscommunication between me and the other culled, and now they hate me.”
“What kind of miscommunication?”
“The kind where they think I betrayed them.”
Tense silence followed—but only for a few moments.
“What?” Rowan snapped, but I didn’t reply.
A few more seconds passed, long enough for Rowan to understand what had occurred.
“They heard about what happened with the Rebels, didn’t they?
Fuck.” He took one hand off the reins and ran it through his hair.
Then, instead of taking the reins again, he gripped my hip. “Have they threatened you?”
“It’s not important.”
“It damn well is important if you aren’t getting any sleep because you are too busy staying alert to protect yourself. You should have told me this as soon as the issue arose. How long have they been threatening you?”
“Since Summit’s Ridge,” I whispered, and felt his grip on my hip tighten. I didn’t think he was conscious of the action. “I don’t need you to step in. That will only confirm their suspicions. I can handle this on my own.”
Rowan forced out a humorless chuckle.
“Like you’ve been handling it over the past week? No, this has gone too far.”
“You can’t tell them to stand down, or it will confirm that I’ve sided with the Veilers.”
“I won’t. However, you will sleep in my tent until we reach our destination. It’s where you will be safest.”
“That’s even worse! They already think I’m bedding you. Sleeping in your tent all but confirms it!”
“There is nowhere else for you to sleep, not one that I trust. I cannot vouch for every Veiled One here. I cannot trust that they will not… take advantage of the temporary sleeping arrangements.” The insinuation made my stomach roll.
“Besides, you just have to make it to the end of our journey. After that, anyone who attacks you will forfeit their life.”
The only reason I held back from complaining more about the situation was what I heard reflected in his voice—fear. There was a lot of anger, so the fear was almost undetectable. Except I had heard it, and I knew it was on my behalf that he was afraid.
Later, when I entered Rowan’s tent, my eyes immediately found him lounging shirtless atop his bedroll. He was mask-less again, and I still wasn’t used to the sight of it. I thought the cold was brutal—until I felt the heat of Rowan’s gaze when it met mine.
Rowan gestured with his head to the blankets in the corner, already laid out.
I lay down, but my eyes refused to shut. My interactions with some of the culled from dinner played in my head. Specifically, when Aeva accidentally bumped into me and made me spill half my food. The others just laughed.
When I knelt to pick up what I could, someone muttered, “Veiler whore.” I stood and walked away, no longer having an appetite. I decided it was best I head off to bed early. Gods knew I needed the extra rest.
Rowan’s sleep-ridden voice broke through my train of thought.
“Do you want me to put the light out?”
I did actually. I didn’t need to see him so exposed.
It wasn’t because I was modest. He only had his shirt off—but that was enough to notice certain attributes I had no business seeing, let alone appreciating.
Veilers had muscles. It was a laborious job.
However, reciting that fact didn’t make how much I enjoyed the image of them disappear.
“It isn’t too bright. I’ll be fine,” I said instead.
Rowan shrugged and went back to reading.
My body was splayed out on the blanket, but it refused to settle. Despite the frigid temperature outside, I was overheating. Time felt like it was stretching on forever. The silence was deafening, and it was eating at my sanity.
So I broke it.
“Why did you become a Veiler?” I asked Rowan. I had been wondering about it for a while now, considering he never acted quite how I expected a Veiler to. He certainly was no Balor.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He had said something similar before, but it only made me more curious.
“Why didn’t you have a choice?”
There was a long moment of hesitation. Long enough that I thought he was going to ignore the question altogether.
I would have if I had been in his shoes.
None of this was my business, and it only further gave away bits of his identity, which could later be used against him if I escaped.
He didn’t seem troubled by that, though, because he answered.
“I angered my parents, and this was their version of punishment.” His honesty carried the sting of lingering pain. I almost felt sorry for him—almost.
“Why not just run away instead?”
“They would have found me no matter where I went, so I didn’t see the point.”
“Are your parents important people?”
“They used to be.”
I heard Rowan shuffle, so I turned to face him. I watched as he leaned over and blew out the candle in the lantern, encasing the room in darkness.
And in that darkness, I realized something that terrified me.
I was starting to see him.