Chapter 17
The sunset hanging just above the horizon grew murkier the farther we ventured north.
Fog clung to the trees, the darkness crawling in around me like a cloak.
When we first entered the Dusk Realm, I found the twilight frightening.
Now I longed for the glow of the sunset, which painted the sky in various yellows, reds, blues, and purples.
This far north, darkness blanketed everything, shadowing the definition of the landscape and anything hiding in it.
Onyx never let down his guard, one hand on the reins and the other on the sickle, his head tilting at every sound.
The warmth and solidness of his frame behind me, the long tedious hours the draugrhest kept a steady pace, had me struggling to stay awake.
I fought against it, my knuckles cracking around the knife handle in my grip.
When he handed me a blade that morning as we left Blackwater, I understood the danger we were heading into.
He would not willingly give me means to stab him, unless the risk outside of us was greater.
A clicking purr came from Fluffy’s head: Munch circling around and burrowing deeper between the horse’s ears, using his mane as a blanket. Fluffy neighed, shaking his head hard, trying to jiggle the thing off.
“Stop it.” I tapped on the back of his neck. “He’s sleeping peacefully.”
Fluffy pulled against the reins, trying to reach back and bite my leg.
“Hey!” I kicked back at his sharp mouth.
“How about both of you stop,” Onyx said, like an annoyed parent. The entire trip had been the same cycle of us fighting like two kids. Several times Fluffy tried to eat Munch, and when I stopped him, he nipped at me, which had me kicking back until Onyx had to intercede.
“He started it!” I pointed at the horse. Fluffy huffed, baring his fangs, his eyes narrowing as he peered back at me.
“Seriously?” Onyx sighed again.
“He did!” I exclaimed, motioning to the fanged beast. “You saw him try to bite my leg off!”
Fluffy nickered, shaking his head again, like he was denying my accusations.
“About ready to muzzle you both.” Right then Munch let out a twitter, burping out the residues of my cloak, which now had a missing pocket. “Him too.”
“What did Munch do to you?” I replied defensively.
“He’s here,” Onyx grumbled. “That’s enough.”
“You aren’t going to touch a root on his head.” I patted the creature’s coarse hair, producing a louder purr from him. “You either.” I glared at Fluffy.
The horse side-eyed me, blowing out his nose.
Our attention was drawn by a wooden sign coming up on the road, the cloudy night making it hard to see until we were right on it.
Carrion Crow—thirty miles.
“Carrion Crow,” I repeated, sitting up, my throat drying. I recognized the name from maps strewn out on my father’s desk. Carrion Crow was in the Night Realm. The first village inside the border of the northern territory.
Enemy territory.
The comfort of his body became arrows digging into my spine, waking me up, reminding me where we were heading. I had never asked directly where he was taking me. I never needed to. There was only one answer. To King Gavric Helvig in Ravenshadow. My father’s nemesis.
“He will try to take you from me.” Father told me once after drinking a little too much mead. “If anything, out of spite.”
“I would never go against you or the Day Realm, Father.”
“Loyalty won’t matter,” he said. “I will do anything to keep the power out of his hands.” His eyes lifted to mine, a sadness hinting in them. “I am sorry for what you will endure.”
He never talked about it again, no matter how many times I brought it up, asking what would happen the night of the winter solstice, the night of my birthday and the Battle of Blood remembrance.
How the White Raven’s magic would come to fruition.
He shut me down, saying I knew everything I needed to.
It had been something I understood after a while—that the White Raven’s magic was not something she could decide on.
Once again it seemed up to the men to decide for me.
Onyx was my foe, not my champion. He had a duty. He was nothing more than the handler fetching me for the Night King. Crossing that border ended the pretense, the na?ve hope I would get home. I was no more than a task to the Northerner.
The Dusk Realm had let us live in a suspension of disbelief, where we could pretend to work together, neutral ground where neither side was safe.
The sign dropped reality on me, and I was suddenly aware of the stiffness in his form, his icy silence.
“I’m sure you are relieved,” I said coolly. “Finally, returning home where you can hand me over and be rid of me.”
He didn’t deny my words, his epic silence infuriating me. Why did I ever think he would show kindness? That he saw me as anything more than livestock to move?
My gaze went down to the blade in my hand, my fingers opening and closing around it. My pruned hair slid over my shoulders, the ends curtaining around me. His mark felt like it was everywhere. My hair, my skin, even boring into my bones.
This was my last chance to break free before I went into enemy territory.
The blade sat in my palm and I felt the urge to use it, fight for the last inkling of freedom.
I could swing back and embed it into his gut, twist it until he gaped, gasping for wisps of life, and then I would twist it deeper.
I could feel Onyx’s attention on me. He saw my debate, the struggle while the horse stepped us closer to darkness. His hand shifted on the handle of the scythe, but instead of using it to threaten me, he slipped it into a makeshift holster on his back.
Disarming himself.
The shock of his action stilled me.
He wouldn’t fight me.
I expected relief—I could snatch the opportunity and run. The girl I was a few days ago would have without question. She had been na?ve and inexperienced, thinking people would help, bend over backward to get her back home where she belonged.
I knew better. No amount of my limited training would stop the evil in this world from getting me before I reached the border. Cannibals, wild animals, and worst of all, man . . .
I also understood something else—something I had already experienced.
There was nowhere I could go that he wouldn’t find me.
It went beyond his ability to track or find the girl with silver hair journeying across the dusky land like a beacon.
The tattoo on my skin wouldn’t only tell people I was his.
It wound me to him with invisible threads, like a spider’s web.
Tension pumped through our bodies, every second tapping with the click of the horse’s footfalls.
His muscles were tight, like he was waiting for a blade to be buried in his gut.
Curling my fingers around it, I slowly lowered the knife.
My shoulders sinking in defeat, silently answering his challenge.
My fate was set. It was time I faced the consequences of my failure.
He spoke, startling me, and slipped off the saddle, his boots hitting the dirt. “We’ll stop here for the night.”
“We’re less than thirty miles away.” I wanted the torment over. To just be over the territory line, where the situation would be out of my control.
As usual, he didn’t answer, leading the horse off the road into a rolling meadow guarded by enough trees to use as protection, the clouds covering the sky, blocking the little light at the horizon.
“We’ll get an early start in the morning.” He unhooked the saddlebags, walking to a flat area and setting them down.
Scooping up Munch, I put him in the only good pocket I had left and dismounted. Cringing in pain, I felt every muscle achy and sore, my bladder full, my stomach empty. I stretched my limbs, watching Onyx build a fire, taking in the way he fashioned the wood to get the flames going quickly.
“What?” He glanced over at me.
“Nothing.” I crouched down on a rock, putting my hands up to the flames. “I trained for so many different situations and outcomes. But what’s funny is, I never learned to build a fire or how to catch and cook food, to survive in the wilderness on my own.”
“Probably figured you’d always have servants and thralls around to do that for you.” His eyebrow curved up, a poignant smile hinting on his lips, both of us getting the irony.
“Seems so.” I smiled back.
“Come here.” He nodded to the spot next to him.
“Why?”
“Because you’re gonna learn to build a fire.”
“Why? You already have one going.” I motioned to the flames.
“Because someday you might not have a thrall around.” He motioned for me to come to him. He put me in front of him, leaning into my ear, his voice gravelly. “Plus, you are my thrall. Build a fire for your master, kanin.”
Heat flushed into every crevice, prickling the hair down my arms. I longed to be disgusted, to be offended by his comment, but nothing in me was.
I lowered to my knees, picking up the material he gathered from the brush, copying the formation he’d built. He moved around me, watching my every move, nodding in approval or huffing in dissatisfaction when I went wrong.
I brought the sticks into a triangle formation. It took me ten tries, but I finally lit my smaller fire with a twig, the flames licking at dry brush, heating my arms. A smile burst over my face in pride, looking for approval.
The intensity of his gaze shuttered through me, forcing me to suck in.
I swallowed roughly; my tone raspy. “Does my master approve?”
His jaw tightened, the flames flickering in his obsidian irises, appearing like a wild animal stalking in the brush.
We stood in between worlds, a place we could make believe we weren’t on opposing sides, where we belonged to no one, and no duties bound us.
We were our own masters and thralls.
“Kanin . . .” My nickname was a growl, a sound more than a word, penetrating through my bones. He treaded toward me, his entire figure rigid with tension.