Light Wielder (Fire & Metal, #2) — Chapter 31

Chapter 31

JO

Acker pulls a hood up over his head, obstructing my view of his face as we —Fredrich and Irina on either side of me—follow him and Wells through the streets of the port town from a distance. My legs are stiff after being chained together for so long. The eyes of two passing soldiers land on me, and Fredrich picks up his pace, Irina’s arm brushing against mine as we hurry to keep up.

Once we departed the ship, we split into two groups. The five of us together is sizable enough to draw attention and I was given strict instructions to be as unassuming as possible. Difficult, considering my hands are still shackled and tied beneath the cloak I’m wearing. It makes walking surprisingly awkward.

My gaze darts in every direction. The buildings are all two or three stories high, dwarfing us on either side. The town is small, but it’s jam- packed with pedestrians. Each alleyway is filled with vendors selling different food and wares. These must be the very same vendors who sell at the annual Market, or … they did when it used to take place in the cliffs on the southern coast of Kenta.

“Whatever you’re scheming,” Frederich says under his breath. “Don’t.”

I suppress an eye roll. As if I want to trade one sort of captivity for another. No, if I’m going to escape, I’m going to do it when there’s not an even worse adversary in the vicinity. As difficult as it is to admit, even to myself, Acker’s warning isn’t to be taken lightly. The very last hands I’d ever want to fall into belong to Edmond.

It’s as if Fredrich has reverted back to that soldier I used to despise. Too serious and frustratingly ill-mannered. I’m all the angrier that I didn’t see him for what he really was the first time I laid eyes on him, hiding in an alleyway, as I began to explore Maile on my own. I saw him again the next day, and again the day after that. He never approached me or appeared hostile, so I assumed he was sent by my mother to keep an eye on me, after the many arguments we’d had about me wandering around alone. Later, when I’d asked her about a soldier following me, she admitted to directing Sam to have his men keep an eye on me, making my conclusion an easy, if dumb, one.

“How were you able to infiltrate my mother’s forces without raising suspicion?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“It was a process,” he says, and I can practically hear the weight of that statement in his voice. “Started at the tavern, found some of the lower ranked sailors who had enough ale in them to squeeze out information. I learned the military structure, where men were positioned across the territory, and who commanded each battalion. Once I figured out that soldiers from the neighboring farms would sometimes get put on duty within the city, it was easy to slip into the ranks as a reluctant soldier in a stolen uniform after dropping a few well-chosen names.”

Well, that’s embarrassing.

“I’m sure it’s quite humbling, knowing it took so little,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners with self-satisfied amusement when I look over at him. “If it makes you feel any better, it was before Acker even knew you were alive. It took years to accomplish, and even longer to get in the general’s good graces.”

My smile is dripping with sarcasm. “We’ll see how far that gets you when he catches up,” I say.

He tilts his head in contemplation, but the flatness of his expression reveals that I’ve struck a nerve. “I suppose we will.”

Snow hasn’t gathered on the ground yet, but as the sun dips, so will the temperature. The livery stable is the last structure on the street and when we arrive, we find Wells loading the horses with supplies. He makes quick work, tying the packs to ensure they’re secure.

“That should do ya’,” a stable boy declares, handing the reins to the last horse to Acker.

I take a quick inventory of the total number of horses and deduce that we’re going to be partnering up. The arrangement is made without discussion. A simple jerk of Acker’s chin is all the direction Irina needs to mount the horse he’s holding the reins of. Fredrich doesn’t even wait for my consent, lifting me by my waist and hoisting me onto another horse. It’s difficult to maneuver with my hands tied, but I manage to straddle the horse properly and get my feet into the stirrups, using the pommel as leverage.

Fredrich heaves himself up behind me, and I’m grateful for the barrier the saddle creates between the two of us.

No one says a word as we turn onto the street that leads out of the town.

The little bit of snow ceases, but the cold is relentless and I shiver as the wind whips at my cheeks. I’d be more self-conscious about my lack of bathing over the last week if it weren’t for the fact that I’d wish the worst on the man at my back, even if my revenge is as pitiful as subjecting him to the stench of my unwashed body.

This far inland, Kenta is mostly flat. There’s nothing remotely interesting to distract me from the predicament I’ve found myself in. Not a bird in the sky or a scurrying creature on the ground in the distance, just endless wind drifting across the grassy planes, and, swaying on the horse in front of me, the back of the man who makes me want to commit violence every time I look at him.

I hate that I’ve allowed myself to be put into this position. That I didn’t see Acker for who he truly is, the very person Beau warned me about. She said her brother wasn’t to be reasoned with, but I was adamant that she was wrong, that I knew better. Laughable, considering she could see his aura, and all I could see was the man I fell in love with.

Worst of all, I hate that he still hasn’t looked at me. It feels like a punishment. And I loathe the way Irina is relaxed against Acker’s chest.

How it makes my stomach clench in disgust. Four years after witnessing their wedding night, it still hurts to see them together, especially after I saw her in his bed just weeks ago. It’s evident their marriage hasn’t been without its benefits.

But his admittance that the oath still clings to him niggles at me. No longer a kernel of hope wishing it is true, but another reason for my anger to fester. Even if he does love me, is this the kind of love I want? We’ve been spiteful and petty and vengeful, fueled by our own pain. I mean, he’s

chosen to pair with Irina, his wife for gods sake, and I’m contemplating whether the man loves me or not. All the while, I’m being held captive.

Things are beyond twisted.

The temperature continues to drop as the sun’s light dissipates. Acker makes the call to set up camp for the night and he and Wells begin to erect a tent. I stand idly as I watch them, useless in my shackles. Acker uses his gift to lodge stakes into the cold ground. Wells works behind him, trying the canvas to the stakes, and I recognize the sailors knots instantly. Now that I think about it, it’s the same knots he used to tie the packs to the horses.

When he sees me watching him intently, he winks.

I suck in a sharp breath right as Fredrich leads me into the tent.

It’s modest, meant to protect us from the elements more than anything.

But as I enter, I’m confronted with the fact that I’m going to be sleeping in a confined space with my Match, his wife, and the man who went down on me. And Wells.

I don’t care what Beau says; I’ve had to deal with the consequences of enough bad decisions in my life to just accept this predicament right now.

Choosing the spot at the far side of the tent, I lay down on the bedroll Fredrich lays out. The thin material does little to protect from the hard and ice-cold ground underneath, and I know tonight is going to be very, very long.

“I’ll take the first watch.” Acker’s voice is pitched low.

“Nothing is getting past my shield,” Fredrich says. “Let’s just try to get some rest.”

I roll onto my side, wedging my bound hands under my cheek as a pillow. I hear them shuffle about, then whispering too low for me to hear.

Although, I get the sense it’s a mildly heated discussion before I eventually feel someone press in close as they get situated beside me. I clench my teeth, but it does nothing to stop them from chattering.

“Wells,” Acker says. “Can you burn a flame for a few minutes to take the chill out?”

I listen for his response with bated breath.

“Do we want to risk someone seeing it?” he asks.

There’s a beat of silence before Acker replies. “No. I suppose you’re right.”

And I release my breath with a whooshing sigh.

Despite the cold, it doesn’t take long for everyone’s breathing to even out. I try my best to relax and let the wind lull me into some semblance of sleep. But after what feels like an eternity, I find myself shifting onto my other side, trying to get comfortable, and discover Fredrich is the one lying next to me. It’s pitch black but his posture gives him away, flat on his back, hands folded across his chest. He has this insane ability to close his eyes and by his next breath have fallen asleep.

I think I resent him a little bit more, just for that alone.

Sleep has evaded me for days. At least, it’s felt like days. I’m unsure of exactly how long I’ve gone without sleep. The time since my kidnap has blurred together, but despite the exhaustion and stress, my restraints were so wildly uncomfortable on the boat that they made it impossible to relax enough for proper rest. I’m also positive I’ve become too reliant on the aid of the herbal tea Karla would leave by my bedside every night.

I whisper Fredrich’s name, afraid he’s already too deep into his slumber to wake, but his responding harrumph lets me know I’ve caught him just in

time.

“How did you know about the tea?”

He takes a deep breath as if he’s finding the energy to answer. “It’s an old Maile practice to give soldiers the tea when they return home from war.” I hear more than see him tilt his head in my direction. “Cold?”

“No.”

He huffs. “It’s just in your nature to lie, isn’t it?”

There’s no sense in complaining about something I can’t change. Unless … “Are you able to shield us from the cold?” I ask with a smidgen of hope.

I can hear the grin in his voice. “Unfortunately, I have a difficult time with shielding againt natural elements. The weather doesn’t inherently pose

an imminent threat.”

Great.

I do my best to make peace with the long night ahead and my miserable existence and close my eyes. Only for them to shoot wide open when Fredrich wraps an arm around my waist and drags me toward him. I’m so taken aback that I freeze up. But then he rolls onto his other side, giving me his back, and while I want to refuse his offering, I’d be only hurting myself out of stubbornness. Shuffling toward his heat, I remind myself once again that this is all temporary.

All suffering ends, one way or another.

The wind picks up, and though it sends a draft of wind through the gaps in the tent’s material, I’m grateful for the noise. It drowns out everything, including my thoughts. Soon enough, the cold doesn’t feel as punishing.

Almost invigorating, in fact. Kind of like jumping into the ocean during early spring, when the bite of the water offers a reprieve from the burning

sun.

Come here.

I wipe the water from my eyes, spinning toward Kai’s voice. He’s over by the lone tree that stands on the outskirts of the grove, the one that we liked to climb as children. I recognize the memory; it’s from less than a year before we visited the Market.

A smile stretches across his face before he disappears under the water. I swim the distance to the tree and duck underneath the surface to find the opening in the trunk, which was hollowed by a lightning strike. When I resurface inside, Kai’s waiting for me, his hands braced on either side of the small space. We’re close enough that I can feel his warmth despite the chilly water.

Can you imagine, he says, voice echoing up the tree’s hollow shaft. One more year and then we’re out of here.

No, I tell him honestly, but I so desperately hope for it to be true.

He reaches out, running a fingertip over my collarbone. We’ll find a way, he says, eyes following in the wake of his touch. Just promise me: that even if the prince is there waiting for you, you’ll find a way to take me with you.

I’m very skeptical about the idea of this “lost princess” he claims me to be. The title doesn’t feel like it could belong to me. Urchin, however, feels much more fitting, but I don’t bother arguing with him. Regardless of my possible title or lack thereof, there must be a way to get on land once we’re at the Market.

We go together or not at all, I remind him. I can’t imagine a scenario where I’d ever leave my best friend behind.

Messer yells from above. Are you two coming up or what?

I roll my eyes. Both of my best friends.

Just a second, Kai yells back right before he kisses me.

My heart thunders in my ears as heat spreads through my veins. I chase the feeling, wrapping my arms around his neck, using his shoulders as leverage to stay above water. He’s always seeking reassurance, making me promise not to leave him behind, and I don’t know how he could ever believe I’d be capable of doing such a thing.

When he pulls away, the sensation of the kiss still hot on my lips, it’s no longer Kai I’m clinging to … but Acker.

His brows are slanted down in agitation. He’s influencing you, Jovie.

I push away from him as much as I’m able to in the small space,

alarmed by his sudden appearance.

He was always using you, he says.

I dip under the water and swim back through the opening in the tree, out into the open ocean. But when I come up for air, the water is no longer blue, but dark red. The grove is gone, and I’m standing in a current that’s waist deep. Lifting my hands, I realize they’re tied together with shackles, the rope threaded between is coated with droplets of blood that glisten like jewels.

When I look up from my bound hands, Acker is standing a ways away.

I’m stunned by the intensity of his gaze. So much so, I instinctively take a step back, causing a red wake around me. But as Acker’s eyes continue to hold my own, I realize it’s not anger reflecting back at me … but fear. He begins to wade through the blood to get to me.

Bodies.

They’re everywhere, floating up from the depths of the viscous liquid, all of them in military garb. Every insignia of every territory are present within the steadily emerging graveyard. Bubbles appear right in front of me, a body becoming visible slowly, emerging with a curved saber lodged through the spine. And as he bobs onto his back, the familiar bone-stricken face of a young man in a Maile uniform comes into view.

I stumble backward, falling, and the last thing I see is Acker’s terrified gaze as he struggles to push through the bodies, yelling something I can’t quite hear. I scream when I go under, but it’s muffled by the dense blood.

The taste of copper fills my mouth as I struggle, helpless as I sink deeper

and I realize … this is it.

This is the end of my suffering.

For a moment, everything goes quiet aside from the beating of my heart.

A steady rhythm inside me. That is, until muffled voices penetrate through

the viscous liquid.

Wake her!

“Wake her up!” Acker’s yells are muted. “Godsdamnit. Wake her!”

The scream trapped in my throat finally escapes the same moment I awake to Fredrich jerking me by the shoulders. I suck in a desperate lungful of air as I sit up shakily. Nausea burns in my throat. Everyone is awake and bleary-eyed as they look at me in the early morning light. The last thing I need is to add to my humiliation by dry heaving.

“It’s okay,” Fredrich says, hands hovering over my shoulders. “You’re

okay. It was just a dream.”

That’s putting it lightly.

I can’t stop my eyes from straying to Acker. Sitting with his knees bent, chest heaving as he cradles his face in his hands.

And, even still, he can’t bear to look at me.