Chapter Twenty-Eight
Yun
“No guards this time?” I asked as I walked beside Corsa.
I didn’t want to have some big conversation, but the silence got to me. This tension grew inside me the more we didn’t speak. Each sound from the dungeon, the screeches of monsters, the swaying of the branches, all of it dragged on me until I couldn’t not say something.
Or maybe some part of me thought that there could still be some understanding with Corsa. Seeing him after ten years made me think, maybe there was a chance that he had recovered.
“You only had those when I couldn’t be there. Now that I’m here, they’re hardly needed.”
“I didn’t think anyone could control monsters like that.”
“Normally they can’t, but I’ve always done things differently.
Maybe it’s my time here, the bond I have with this place, but controlling these beasts takes very little effort.
” To anyone who didn’t know him, that might have seemed like an innocuous little statement.
I knew better, though, heard the pride, the ego.
“Will they recover?” I recalled Spot, having no idea why I gave a damn.
Perhaps I just liked collecting random, morally gray things around me.
Corsa laughed, the sound causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin, the sound clawing its way out of my nightmares. “What do I care? When they become useless, I break the connection. You know, you really are amusing. I think I may have forgotten that over the years apart, the memories fading.”
I stumbled, but he didn’t bother to help, not as the men always did. I caught myself, grateful to not end up flat on my face.
Still, the walk took more out of me than I’d ever admit. We arrived after another thirty minutes or so, telling me we hadn’t rested that far from where we’d been headed. He kept the pace brisk, and my legs were burning, sweat covering my forehead, but I didn’t complain.
It wasn’t as though he’d give a damn if I did, and who cared if this walk ended me? I wasn’t headed toward anything good.
“What happened to that corrupted?” I asked to take my mind off the waves of power that radiated from the heart, a pull that grew stronger the closer we got. I had a pretty good idea, but I wasn’t sure.
“Dead, I assume.”
“You assume?”
He shrugged. “Well, last I saw she was clawing her own face off because I planted the idea that spiders had nested inside her skin. If she isn’t dead yet, she certainly will be soon.”
My stomach rolled at the idea of that. Mentalists were truly horrific in so many ways. They could twist the fabric of the universe—or at least make a person believe they did.
It made me pause, an idea inside of me that I hadn’t really thought about before.
“Why didn’t you do something like that to me?”
“Why would I want you skinless?”
I refused to look at him as we neared the heart, but I couldn’t stop myself from pushing for an answer. “You clearly could have rewritten my memories, could have forced me to accept you, to even believe I loved you. Why didn’t you ever do that?”
His steps didn’t change at all, as though the question were a normal part of any conversation. Usually people would react more strongly against such a horrible suggestion, but Corsa? He hardly blinked in response.
Even still, he answered. “We wouldn’t have bonded correctly then.”
I didn’t believe it. Something about his tone struck me as off, as strange, as though he had more to say that he refused to utter.
Was there some part of him that remained uncorrupted? A part that felt that was too far?
I shook my head, because it felt like looking at Spot all over again, seeing goodness that wasn’t there because it made me feel safer. I preferred to think the world wasn’t as horrible as it seemed, because it gave me hope that tomorrow could be better.
“I am curious now. Why did you choose to come to me on your own?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone else to suffer for me.”
“You always have been too kind for your own good.”
“Why do you talk about me like you know me?” The casual familiarity he used chafed, as though he thought we were close. “I was a teenager when you met me.”
“We spent six months together here.”
Much of that was a blur to me, just trauma after trauma. My brain had faded so much of it, probably to protect me from how horrific it truly was. I recalled pain, fear, loneliness, but little else.
“We didn’t speak during that time,” I pointed out. “You used me, then you left me and only came back when you needed me again.” I hated how I sounded angry, like a lover left behind. It still seemed better than letting him paint this as some deep connection.
“You were afraid of me. How was remaining around you going to better that?”
“Of course I was afraid of you! You abducted me, you abused me, you forced me to guide you when I hadn’t even known I was a guide.” My voice trembled at the end, but I didn’t hide it, didn’t bother to keep it in. Let him see the messy parts he’d created.
“And that was why I gave you space. Besides, I had enough to worry about.” He paused, then glanced to the side, toward me.
“You know, the more I interact with you, the more I’m forced to acknowledge that you are different than you were before.
You’ve grown and changed dramatically. I wonder if that’s a sign of age, experience, or if they are responsible. ”
“I’m just not a child anymore. I’ve had ten years to grow into myself. I’m here because I don’t have another choice, but don’t think I’m going to just cower like I did before.”
“You’re willing to risk everything just to feel better about yourself? It isn’t as if anything you do would change what happens, so what’s the point of fighting it?”
I thought about Carter, about the absolute menace he was when it came to doing as he pleased.
It had me almost wanting to smile, as though I could hear his voice in my head.
It wasn’t just the years, it was them who had changed me, seeing people who didn’t give a damn if I were difficult, if I caused problems. Hell, they behaved as though they enjoyed it, like they got a kick out of me standing up to everyone—including them.
It had me looking at him directly, not hiding a bit, wanting him to understand that I truly wasn’t the same frightened little girl he’d known before.
“Because if you’re going to fall, you might as well make it a problem for someone else. ”