Chapter 35
Eyes continue to follow me as we march through the camp, but only after heads bow in respect for their sovereign.
“So … prince, huh?”
“Since birth,” he says, looking at me from the side. “But you suspected, didn’t you?”
“It makes sense, given my title and the history of our families. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wouldn’t have trusted me,” he says. “Considering the state of affairs between our people. You would have suspected I was seeking retribution.” He notices the smile I’m biting back. “What is it?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Your arrogance should have been the first clue.”
He discreetly jabs his elbow into my side.
“Speak for yourself, princess.”
We come upon the last group of tents along the camp’s border. Set back from the rest, the structure is surrounded by soldiers dressed in full armor. It feels a little overkill, especially upon finding Messer chained to the central pole that upholds the roof of the space.
A helmeted soldier stands behind him. The deep eye slits of his head covering make me uneasy. It’s strange to feel his watchful gaze without being able to see his eyes in the low light.
Messer’s on his knees with his arms stretched behind the beam, tightly bound. He’s healed, but not fully. Bruises and cuts litter his form, and when he looks up at the noise of our entry, the evidence of fatigue is stark in the lines his face and body.
I fall to my knees before him, hating the visible strain it takes for him turn his gaze to me. “Is this how you treat those who risk their lives to save yours?” I ask, throwing a glare in Acker’s direction.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s how we treat probable spies.
We can’t heal him—he’ll just shift again.” Messer’s lips tip up at the
corners.
“At least they gave me pants.”
I can’t help but smile at his attempt at levity. “Your eyes,” I say, pausing as I take them in. “They’re blue.” No longer the gray common in the people
of Alaha.
“Yours too,” he says.
I reach to touch my cheek, as if to feel their change, to sense their new color. I look at Acker. He never mentioned it to me.
“It’s what happens when you’re separated from land for too long. Time and distance bleaches them of their color.”
Hallis shoulders through the tent’s opening. “Found her,” he says, tone droll as he holds the material back for Beau to enter. “She was, indeed, scaring the men.”
Beau clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. “They’re scared of
everything.”
“They’re battle-hardened brutes.”
She cocks her head in his direction. “Exactly.” As if she just realizes where she is and at the presence of other people, she smiles. “What do we have here?”
Acker motions to Messer with a flick of his wrist. “You tell me.”
She steps closer. Her eyes are dark and sharp, so much like Acker’s as she assesses the situation. “Lovers, perhaps?” Her gaze turns inquisitive.
“No, that’s not it.”
Realizing something is happening that I’m not fully privy to, I rise and take a step back. I look at Acker for some form of explanation, but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are affixed to his sister as she circles Messer’s kneeling form.
“There’s love, but not of the romantic variety. Although,” she says, arching a brow, “he has considered it before. From what I can tell, he’s a bit
of a philanderer.”
I can tell Messer is as alarmed as I am, but he hides it well, smile turning flirtatious when she stops in front of him. “Interested?”
Beau’s smile is real entertainment. “Not in the slightest.”
“Beau,” Acker chastises.
She drops some of her bravado, focusing more. “He’s loyal. Probably to a fault. He leads with his heart, but he’s also a troublemaker. Duplicitous.
Doesn’t care for rules or decorum. Loves attention.”
Messer is smiling as she rattles off his characteristics, like it’s all the things he believes about himself and he appreciates hearing them out loud.
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Acker says. “I was able to determine as much during the time I spent with him as an eyun.”
“An eyun?” Beau says. “And where have you seen an eyun, to know how to shift into one?”
“My father,” Messer says, looking at Beau, then Acker. “He has an illustrated book of creatures, those alive and dead, in his keep.”
Acker looks to Beau for confirmation. She makes an affirming gesture, a tilt of her head that indicates what I assume to mean she believes Messer is telling the truth.
Acker continues. “Johannes is your father, yes?”
Messer loses the flare in his smile when he responds. “Yes.”
“Is he who exposed you to your magic?”
Messer is slow to shake his head. “No.”
“Who then?”
He hesitates. The reason is plain on his face as he looks at me. The pause continues to grow, like the air thickening as if made of water. It’s heavy and suffocating as everyone holds their breath, myself included as I wait for Messer to answer. Whatever Beau’s gift is, it’s nothing to tamper with.
“Kai,” he says, eyes shifting back to Acker’s hard stare. “My father knows nothing of my gifts.”
Removing a blade from the strap across his chest, Acker twiddles it between his fingers, face contemplative as he digests Messer’s answer.
“Why did you follow us?”
Messer quirks a smile. “I couldn’t let B have all the fun without me.”
Beau snickers. When Hallis glares at her, she says, “What? I found the one who isn’t afraid of me.”
Acker is not as amused, jaw flexing as he lords over Messer’s kneeling form. “You overheard every conversation we’ve had the past several weeks.
Every interaction, you listened in on.” His eyes turn downright murderous.
“You know damn well that’s not her name.”
Messer attempts a shrug, thwarted by his bound wrists. “Does it matter?
She is who she is regardless of her name, regardless of her title.”
Acker sinks to his haunches before him. “And who is she to you?” he says, voice low and demanding.
Acker could kill him from much further away without batting an eye, but something about him being so close to Messer with a sharp weapon at his disposal is disconcerting.
Messer meets my gaze once again when he says, “My friend.”
He’s been with me this entire journey. Even before, when he would visit me at my window in Alaha. We spent hours on the roof of my shiel just … being.
Together, the two of us. Maybe he needed a place to escape his father, a place of respite from the hurt and mayhem, but maybe I needed him too, to feel less alone.
I take a step closer. “Why did you follow me?”
“We always said we’d make it to land together or not at all.” Messer lets all traces of humor fall from his face, revealing the truth so few see underneath his lighthearted exterior. He’s angry at me for leaving without
him. “You went alone.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t alone.”
“I didn’t trust him.” Him being the man between us. “Kai told me what he did at the dock—how well he fought—and I knew I had to find you. I figured I’d scope out the situation and fly back to Alaha once I knew you were safe, but then that storm came in, and I spent all my energy ensuring you two survived. I didn’t think I could endure the flight back.”
“The creature beneath the water,” Acker says, surprise and understanding lighting his eyes, lacing his voice. “That was you?” Messer
nods.
Acker’s gaze shifts to Beau, then Hallis. “He was able to maintain a shifted giant squid form for hours, out in the open sea.”
Messer likes Acker’s impressed assessment and manages a half-assed smirk. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Acker doesn’t take the bait. “Did anyone know of your intentions before
leaving?”
“Yes,” he says. “Aurora … and Kai.”
Acker doesn’t like that answer. “Did he tell you why she left?”
By the repentant look on Messer’s face and the quick glance in my direction, it’s very apparent what his answer is. He doesn’t need to voice it.
“And you still consider him a friend?” Acker says. “After finding out what he was doing to her?”
“He always knew,” I say, answering for him. “Didn’t you?”
Messer shakes his head. Not in answer, but disappointment. “Kai hated it, but he felt like there wasn’t another option.”
Acker twirls the blade in his palm, a habit of his, fiddling when he’s deep in thought. “Excuses.”
“Spoken like someone who’s never gone to bed hungry.”
The blade in Acker’s hand freezes, right along with his gaze. “Don’t pretend the son of the third in command of Wren’s guard has ever felt true hunger.”
Messer matches Acker, teeth bared when he says, “You don’t know my father.”
Acker doesn’t need to look at Beau for confirmation. The searing pain of truth lashed across Messer’s face is telling enough. His father is not a good man. He put Messer through plenty to negatively tip the scales against any of the good ways he benefited from his father’s status.
“Are you here to do any harm to Jovie?”
Messer shakes his head. “No.”
“Are you here as an informant for Kai or his father?”
“No.”
“Are you honest in your intentions?”
“Yes.”
Acker looks to Beau, who nods her approval. He orders the helmeted guard to retrieve the healer. Then he looks at me.
“It’s your decision,” he says.
“About what?”
“It’s either the dungeons or release.” He continues to spin the blade from one digit to the next, over the back of his hand and round into his palm again. It happens so fast I’m not sure if it’s pure skill or the work of magic.
“He’s your friend,” he continues. “He’s chanced his life for yours, yet he doesn’t appear to have an allegiance to any head. It makes him a potential liability to keep around. We could put him on a boat back to Alaha, but given his ability to shift, there’d be nothing stopping him from returning.”
I look from Acker’s intense gaze to Beau’s mercurial grin, then to Hallis as he stands without an offer of reassurance, stare dry, as I presume is typical of him. All their eyes are locked onto me.
“Couldn’t you just…” I struggle through the rest of my question, hating myself for thinking it. “Make him give a blood oath to leave and never return?”
There’s a noticeable shift in the air, in the tiniest of movements between the three of them at my suggestion.
Beau speaks first. “Blood oaths are messy, especially when given under duress. The swearer has to make the promise without prejudice, or it leaves room for gaps within the agreement. They’re not easy to outmaneuver, but it’s not impossible.”
“I could though,” Acker says, eyes holding mine as he gives me the harsh truth. “I could banish him to a lifetime at sea. Or I could simply make him swear his unwavering fealty, so I could sleep better without having to worry about treason, but at what cost, when the only thing the man is guilty of is being questionable?”
“Not even Wren or his people were held to a blood oath when they were exiled,” Hallis says.
It explains Acker’s words to Fia about his distaste for sworn oaths. If I choose Messer’s release, I’m essentially vouching for him, and I don’t know if I can do that. Messer’s chin rests against his chest, but his eyes meet mine through the stringy hair overhanging his brow, giving me what
comfort he can offer through his gaze. He knows the predicament this puts me in, and I know without a doubt he’ll understand whichever I choose.
“I can’t send him to the dungeons,” I say, hating the falter in my voice.
“Even with the revelation that he knew of Kai’s transgressions against you?” There’s not any judgment or condemnation in Acker’s gaze, simply a gentle reminder of Messer’s part in all of this.
“I saw what Messer’s father did to him,” I say, refusing to meet my friend’s stare. “I saw the bruises and never did anything about it.”
Seeing the finality in my eyes, Acker opens the lantern hanging from the top of the mast and places the sharp end of the knife inside. A dark blade of stone, like my own. He paces to stand beside Messer. “Do you know
anything regarding hearthstone?”
Messer shakes his head, but it’s weak.
“It’s mined from deep within the earth, where rivers of liquid fire flow.
It’s used to create the only weapons that can leave scars which will never heal. It’s the only known matter that can kill an Heir’s gift, cut the magic right out of their being,” he says, removing the blade from the fire.
The once dark stone edge is now an unnatural shade of pearl white. He places the searing point against Messer’s chest, blistering the skin under his collar. Messer howls, eyes going wide in surprise.
Acker pins Messer’s flailing head back by a fistful of his dirty hair. “Tell me now if this is where your magic resides.”
Messer growls through clenched teeth. I yell Acker’s name, but Hallis halts me with an arm around my waist, pulling me out of reach.
“Last chance,” he threatens.
Messer shakes his head, spit flying from his lips. “It’s not there.”
Acker digs the knife deeper, cutting past the flesh and into the tissue.
Blood cascades from the wound when he removes it only to shove it back in, causing Messer to become rigid again before going lax when finally Acker pulls it out.
I recognize the V, identical to the one above Acker’s hip.
“There are only four people other than myself who wear this mark,” he explains. “It’s notorious amongst our enemies, considered a coveted trophy for many who hunt us. If you’re caught outside Kenta territory with this
mark, you’ll be tortured for information you don’t have before dying a slow death. And Wren would be first in line to do the torturing.”
I shove out of Hallis’s hold. “You could have warned him.”
Acker cleans the blade with a cloth from the table against the far side of the space. “He didn’t have a choice.”
The returning soldier announces himself before entering. A female soldier with her hair cut close to the scalp follows in close behind. She doesn’t pay any heed to the mood of the enclosed space or the circumstances that led to her summoning as she goes right to Messer. She inspects the wound and Messer’s overall appearance before sinking to her knees. Placing a palm on the front of his chest and the other on his back, she instructs him to take a deep breath.
Messer’s choked sound of pain tapers off into a sigh of relief. The dark creases under his eyes vanish. His breathing returns to normal, and he’s able to remain upright without fighting for air. The V is still very much there, the skin sealed back together but a stark reminder against the rest of his unblemished skin.
Acker thanks her for her service and bids her good night.
“Untie him,” I demand.
With a nod of approval from Beau, Acker uses the same knife he defiled Messer with to slice through his bonds.
Messer rubs his wrists as he stands. “Any chance I can get a little something to eat?” he asks, smiling as if he wasn’t enslaved in every way but in name, forced to give up any chance of freedom beyond Kenta’s borders in return for his life. His stomach growls the loud evidence of his hunger.
Hallis smiles for the first time since laying eyes on him. “There are plenty of field mice if you’d like to shift into a fox.”
“Or a snake,” Beau chirps.
The veiled analogy doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone.
“We’ll get you better lodgings as well as a hot meal,” Acker says with a pointed stare directed at Hallis.
He’s less than thrilled about the task judging by the barely concealed roll of his eyes, but he leaves without protest.
Messer is still grinning as he nods to Acker. “I appreciate your generosity.”
Acker is unaffected by Messer’s attitude. He returns the dark blade made of hearthstone to his sash. “I know trust is too great an ask between us right now, but I hope it comes in time.” Acker’s expression sobers. “And for what it’s worth, I want to thank you. You protected us on the ship and again once we reached land. I can’t say with certainty we’d be alive without you.”
A thin layer of Messer’s sarcasm falls away as his smile becomes more genuine. It’s typical of Messer to move on so easily. He’s never been able to hold a grudge. There’s only one exception to that rule, and that is his father.
I place a cautious hand on Messer’s arm to divert his attention. His smile radiates from him, and I can’t help but think of those moments when he first disappeared into the Dark Forest. The world was so close to losing one of its best humans.
He pulls me into a tight embrace. As unexpected and delightful as it was to see Blue find our boat on the ocean, I’m grateful to know it was him with me the whole time. That’s nothing in comparison to seeing his real face and perpetual smile, though.
With my chin tucked over his shoulder, I catch the glower in Acker’s eyes before he’s able to mask it. Beau doesn’t miss it though. Her stare is scrutinizing as she looks from Acker to me. Then she … stops. She freezes
as she stares between the two of us.
At Acker. At me. Back again.
Acker catches on to her sudden interest, giving her a shake of his head.
A warning, I realize. It takes her a moment to fix her face. Something tells me not a lot is able to ruffle Beau’s feathers, but whatever she just saw caught her off guard.
She leaves without another word, and unease settles in my gut.
