Chapter 2
Alora
The rustling of leaves and pattering of hooves almost has my skin crawling. It’s eerie, the silence of this night. Knowing what lays ablaze just over the hill only adds to my restlessness.
Naaveen had sketched, roughly, upon charred paper where the store house should be. The grimace on his face as he handed the haggard parchment to me was accompanied with an apology.
“I’m sorry it’s not better, Alora,” he had said. “I know it looks pitiful compared to the rich drawings you’re accustomed to creating.”
His words left my heart lighter. He was not a mapmaker's child like me, but the carefully placed trail and roughly sketched home tucked between the treeline did in fact match with the view Caym and I currently looked down on.
The mountainside grows steeper as we make our way down the rocky path, enough so that Caym turns his horse to the thicket of trees to the left of us.
“We can’t risk the horses alerting anyone.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this, his gaze focused on the dimly lit structure.
The chill in the air bites at my neck with the breeze that picks up. This far north on the continent, nearest the Fiordian Mountains, the wind is nearly constant, sending an icy coolness that threatens to sink bone deep.
“Who in gods name thought being so far north would be this damned cold?” The puff of air that escapes my lips hoovers in the moons' light. Caym merely snorts as I bring my cloak closer to my body and rub my numb fingers together.
The light that filters down from the lover moons is almost too bright to remain truly hidden among the grasses and fallen timber. The frosty blades of heather snake around my boots and grab at my damp stockings.
Caym’s voice floats back to me, “You know you complain a lot for someone in such a high position?” His head swivels back to shoot me a cheeky grin. The bastard.
“For a soldier supposedly so talented, you’re awfully loud you big oaf.” A low chuckle is the only answer to my retort.
Truthfully, the joking between us is a tonic for the churning in my stomach. We both realize how screwed we’ll be if we’re captured somehow by a king’s guard.
“Those damn moons are blinding tonight,” he whispers as we both step over boulders.
“It’s because we’re closer to them at this elevation.” I swallow down the word vomit that threatens to spew, a nervous habit I’ve had since I was a young girl that piques when I’m tense.
“Well regardless, they’re not doing us any favors if we’re to sneak down this hill.” He mumbles the last bit out as his foot crunches on flaked shale and slides, almost causing him to slip.
“Hells Caym, are you okay?” I whisper shout, trying to not raise any more alarm to possible onlookers.
“I’m so ready to be done with this mess. I want to be home with Leeson at River’s End, soaking in the goddamn thermal pools.” The words are choppy and short, and I hear a resigned sigh follow.
“I don’t like you and Leeson being this close to King Euron and his henchmen. You’re a sister to me, but gods, if they took Lees, I’m not sure I’d survive that.”
A heavy weight settles in my stomach. I’d feel the same if Leeson was taken, hell, even Caym. They’ve become the closest thing to family since I lost them. Since I lost Hanin and my parents.
Silence echoes in the night, leaving me to stir in the haunting memories.
The same charred smoke smell from earlier, the sudden fire, and worse, the screams from Hanin that were cut short with a blade from King Euron’s soldiers.
At the time I didn’t realize it was some kind of fucked up mercy from the Helianate, the royal army.
That the fate to burn alive was far more gruesome, one my parents unfortunately couldn’t be spared from.
I dig my sharp nails into my palms, the same now healed place where my blade had sliced earlier. I can’t afford to drown, not right now. I press farther, the pinching becoming too much, causing a sting to bloom into an aching throb.
My head begins to buzz again with clarity and the thoughts are banished. My focus sharpens, turning into hyperawareness. It’s then that I notice a shadow sneak across the front window of the storehouse.
“Caym,” the words rush out in a whisper, “did you see that?” My breathing stills as I squint, focusing on the muddied features of the building.
He stops, staring at the direction of the structure. “We need to split up.” His words are barely audible but they register nonetheless.
Without pause, I head towards the treeline that’s mere steps away and dash into the undergrowth. Caym moves quickly, striding down the hillside at a breakneck pace.
I watch as his steps slow. He ducks behind a large boulder and waits for my move.
Cautiously, I begin my descent to the outcropping of trees just behind the building. The chill from earlier is gone, the blood in my limbs pumps haphazardly as my heart booms in my chest.
Don’t let us be caught. I repeat the words like a prayer as I shimmy down the rugged terrain. My hair catches in the thick brush and I curse myself for not taking the time to plait my dark tresses. I snatch the betraying locks from the thorny branch.
Once they’re free, I quickly look back to where Caym should be. Except he isn’t there. My eyes trace over the rocky slope, frantically scouring the boulders. Panic begins to rise in my chest as numbness begins to tingle through my fingers.
I follow the horizon until I locate movement where I least expect it, down at the storehouse. Godsdamn. Of course Caym would get there first to keep me from danger.
“You fucker,” I say under my breath. He’s always been dutiful, willing to sacrifice himself to protect those closest to him. It’s aggravating and at this moment I want to throttle him for leaving me behind.
My feet scale over rocks and fallen debris that are scattered along the makeshift trail. I advance faster, unwilling to let him face whatever is down there alone.
My chest burns from my rapid inhales—I don’t have time to worry about being quiet, my only focus on Caym and the sudden wave of unease that grows with each breath.
I jump over a log, throwing my skirts to the side, and land on crushed rock. The pebbly granular shale causes me to slide, rolling my ankle and suddenly I’m on my ass.
My skin smarts from the landing, the cold and sharp stones beneath me biting into my flesh. The building is only a few paces away but I’m frozen on the ground. My body hurts, like really hurts, from the fall so it’s all I can do to not sit there and scream.
I splay my fingers into the gravely surface, begging the earth to let me breathe.
My mind can’t focus on anything but the blinding pain.
“Alora,” a husky whisper calls to me as I hear the pulverized stone crunch near me, “what the fuck was that?”
Inhaling, my head spins to where the voice came from. Caym is there, walking towards me while his brows reach towards the heavens.
A groan escapes my lips, it’s the only sound I risk making.
“Is it your ankle?” His eyes drift over my prone form assessing what could be keeping me down.
The burn in my chest begins to settle as I make an effort to slow my breathing.
“No,” or at least what sounds like it leaves my lips, “I damn near broke my tailbone.”
“Do you need a minute?”
My eyes shift closed until I’m sure it looks like slits.
“I need you to shut up.”
A chuckle is the only sound in the too quiet air. Caym stands there, hands to his side, waiting. The wrinkle of his brow eases as I shuffle slightly, stretching a leg out and straightening my spine.
“Where were you?” It’s all I can manage as I twist my leg around under me. Gods my tailbone is sore, but at least it doesn’t seem to be broken.
“I scaled down in front of that boulder back there,” he points behind us motioning to where I just basically ran from, “there’s a dip just below it. I bet you didn’t see me since it's somewhat of a hole.”
My head nods. It would make sense. There was no way he could have gotten down that quickly without me noticing sooner.
“I thought you had left me to go be the big brave warrior.” It sounds harsher than I mean it to, but maybe it’s more true than I hoped.
Vulnerability has never come easy and right now it feels like I’d rather flay my skin off than let Caym, who’s been my brother for longer than Hanin was, see the broken bits of me.
Seeing that village of cinders and the broken hopes carved out of the people I could easily see my old life in, has me unsettled and clumsy.
“Alora,” Caym’s voice is stern, “you cannot save them all.” My chin jerks slightly as if I’ve been struck.
There it is again, the reality that I can’t save them all.
My throat suddenly feels cracked and dry.
I should have been dead long before all of this happened with King Euron.
I should have crossed the veil a long time ago and greeted my family in the Plains of Elmir.
Though I can’t save them, save sweet Hanin, I’m unwilling to sit by and watch others be lost due to a zealot’s twisted game.
“Let’s finish what we’ve come for.” The words leave my throat with a low snarl.
You can’t save them all. You can’t save them all. You can’t save them all.
I chant the hard truth like a prayer and let the seeds of loathing twist in my soul. For all I care they can have the wretched thing.
The air stills, not even a breeze dares to stir as I stalk down the remaining slope.
My teeth gnash together and pain shoots down my leg with each step. My speed remains the same as I let the bolt of growing discomfort continue. Just like the slice on my hand has healed, this too will mend. I just have to quit being so weak and push through it.
A raven’s cry is heard in the distance and my steps slow. I can’t see where it came from with the moons covered in dark clouds.
I strain my ears, hoping to hear the bird again. Caym doesn’t move either. His stance is rigid, waiting.
The soft caw comes again, closer now and the icy feeling begins to creep in again.