25.

  Spook

  When Aeon Tempus shattered the dam binding Faelwen’s magic, it was as though a storm had been unleashed within her. For an entire week, she devoted herself to her craft with a fervour that bordered on obsession. It was almost as if she’d forgotten how dangerous magic actually was.

  Worry gnawed at me as she roamed the tower grounds. Her spellbook clasped tightly in her hands, collecting spells and arcane secrets with an eagerness that made her eyes glimmer with purpose.

  She was a force of nature, her excitement almost infectious as she proudly demonstrated her growing power to me.

  The victim.

  Her magic was still raw, unpredictable. And many spells ended in resounding explosions, painting the air with shimmering sparks as I ducked for protection. But others hummed with eerie precision, controlled and potent.

  In the afternoons, I urged her to return to weapon training as well. Her skills with the bow and blade were as vital as her newfound magic. And with magic as unpredictable as hers, I wished she learned how to defend herself in other ways as well.

  Aeon granted her a new bow with a quiver full of arrows. And so we sparred beneath the watchful gaze of the waning sun. I taught her techniques of my own, guiding her hand as her dagger—given to her by Ash—met mine with a resounding clash.

  Each moment she drew close to me, every brush of her fingers, sent my heart into turmoil. But as night fell and she sobbed quietly in the corner of the room, her thoughts clearly on Ash. The ache within me turned hollow.

  Hers was a love I might never know. Her heart was tethered to another, and no magic could sever that bond. Right? I tugged my feelings for her away to the back of my mind, not wanting it to cloud my thinking.

  On the seventh night, we sat together in the opulent dining hall. The room was adorned with ancient elven tapestries and glowing crystal sconces. Their light casting flickering shadows on her determined face. Over a simple meal, we discussed the days to come, until she said something that jolted my nerves.

  “I have to return to the Marshes for Ash,” she said, her voice steady but her eyes pleading. I stiffened, the mere mention of that cursed place igniting a storm of emotion within me. Hold it together, Spook. I told myself. You can’t think clearly when emotions take over.

  “We’re not going back there,” I said, my voice firmer than I intended. “I can’t let you.”

  Her cheeks flushed, anger rising like a tide.

  “You don’t understand,” she snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut. “I have to get to Ash. He is—”

  “I understand perfectly,” I retorted, heat building in my chest. “And Ash is capable of taking care of himself!” Well that was a failed attempt to control my emotions. I saw her fist clench and tears shimmer in her eyes. I knew what was coming.

  “You don’t understand,” she repeated, her voice cracking under the weight of her frustration. I sighed, my own anger giving way to a deeper pain. I did truly understand, more than she would know. I went after her, despite the danger I knew I was going to face. I put my life at risk for her. For what I felt for her. And for my own freedom, but that was irrelevant now.

  “Faelwen, listen to me…” I started again.

  “No, you listen!” she shouted, rising abruptly and pointing a trembling finger at me. “I didn’t ask you to follow me here. You chose to. You wanted to save me, to protect me from harm. And now I have to save him. Don’t you see? I have to protect him, just like you protected me.”

  Her words struck like arrows, piercing the fragile walls I had built around my heart.

  “Exactly,” I said through gritted teeth, standing to meet her gaze. “I want to keep you safe. And Ash would want the same for you. Running back into the arms of the Fiend is madness, Faelwen. The elves might help us… help him. We need their wisdom to stop the war, to stop the Fiend. Charging into darkness alone will only lead to ruin.”

  Her stubborn eyes glinted, torn between understanding and defiance. That fire I adored now was something I wished she could smother for her own protection.

  She let out a huff of frustration and stormed from the room, her footsteps echoing down the grand hall. I collapsed into my chair, exhaustion dragging at my limbs.

  “She’s going to be the death of me,” I muttered, glancing at Artemis. The wolf brushed his grey head against my leg before padding silently after her.

  ? ? ?

  Later that evening, as the tower slumbered under a star-filled sky, I climbed the spiral staircase to our chambers. The door stood slightly ajar, revealing Faelwen curled in one of the big armchairs.

  She cradled Artemis’ head, her fingers weaving through his fur as she whispered to him. I could hear her voice was laced with grief and fear, each word a dagger in my chest.

  “I’m afraid the Fiend has him, Buddy,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose him. He’s alive… for now… but for how long?”

  Artemis grunted softly, nudging her hand as if to comfort her. She managed a faint smile, but her tears glistened like water drops caught in a web.

  “I love him, Buddy,” she said, her voice breaking.

  The words burned in my ears. I leaned against the doorframe, struggling to breathe past the ache in my chest. Gathering my courage, I pushed the door open, the creak alerting her to my presence. Just like I wanted it to.

  She turned her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Her dark melancholic eyes locking with mine, her brown hair falling over the side of her face. Oh how I wanted to cradle that face. Wipe away her tears and kiss those pretty eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Spook,” she said, her voice soft and raw. “You’re right. I can’t go back to the Fiend. Even with my powers, I’m not strong enough to face him.”

  Her apology was a caress against the storm within me. Soothing, but still the wind blew. I crossed the room, my hand brushing against her cheek.

  “I know you want to save him, little fox,” I said, my voice steady but tender. “And I’m sorry for what you’re going through.”

  She smiled, a bittersweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and gently removed my hand.

  “Let’s go to the elves,” she said, standing with quiet resolve. “They may have the answers we need. I’ll inform Aeon we’ll be leaving at sunrise.”

  I nodded, watching as she left the room with seemingly renewed determination. Artemis stayed behind, his golden eyes locking with mine, filled with a knowing sympathy. He padded over, pressing his head against my leg again.

  “Unrequited love,” I whispered bitterly, my hand resting on his fur. “The cruellest curse of all.”

  ? ? ?

  The dawn greeted us with a tender radiance, the sun its golden warmth over the dewy meadow that stretched before us. A cool mist lingered, clinging to the blades of grass, shimmering like a thousand tiny diamonds as the light caressed them.

  Aeon had prepared us for the journey, his words still echoing in my mind: seven hours riding atop a moose to reach the mountain’s base, followed by another half day’s trek to the elven city of Caradsher?n. The grandest settlement of the elves on this side of the range.

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  At the time, I had dismissed the notion of riding a moose as some sort of jest. But as we approached the edge of the meadow, I realized Aeon’s strange claims were never to be doubted.

  He stood there, his vibrant robes flowing like liquid silk in the morning breeze, their shadows shifting and dancing with the light. His white, pupil-less eyes bore into me, as if searching for fragments of my soul I’d long since buried. I shivered beneath his gaze. I never grew used to it. And probably never would.

  Aeon brought his hands to his lips and mimicked some sort of bird’s call. A piercing sound that echoed through the woods and didn’t sound remotely close to a bird. Great. Now all the predators in the woods knew where we were.

  A moment later, the foliage stirred, dragging my attention to it. From the emerald shadows emerged two majestic moose. They were enormous, their antlers stretching toward the sky like branches of ancient trees. Their eyes, deep and intelligent, scrutinized us with an almost otherworldly awareness.

  My breath caught in my throat and my jaw dropped. I would never doubt that otherworldly being ever again.

  As the giant moose walked closer, I felt insignificant beside their grandeur, like a leaf in the shadow of a great oak. Aeon’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, sending goosebumps over my skin.

  “They will know the way. If you need to stop, ask them. They understand Elvish.” His gaze turned to Faelwen, who nodded with solemn understanding.

  “Well, then,” Aeon continued, his tone softer now, “there is nothing left but to wish you a safe journey.”

  “Thank you, Aeon. For everything,” Faelwen said, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. “I hope we meet again someday.”

  “I hope so too,” he replied. Then his eyes shifted to me, and I braced myself under the weight of his stare.

  “Take good care,” he said, his voice both a command and a plea.

  “I’ll protect her,” I assured him, but his faint smile revealed I had missed the mark.

  “I meant, take good care of yourself as well,” he clarified. The words struck deeper than I expected, and I nodded in silence.

  With a few words in Elvish, Aeon sent the moose into motion. With his help, we climbed onto their broad backs, their fur warm and coarse beneath us. The beasts moved with grace that belied their size, carrying us effortlessly into the forest’s embrace. Artemis following our track.

  The sunlight, now higher in the sky, struggled to pierce the thick canopy above, surrounding us with long shadows. Exactly how I liked it.

  For a time, we rode in silence, the rhythmic sway of the moose and the sounds of the forest our only companions. Eventually, Faelwen broke the quiet.

  “Were you always part of the Black Hawks?” she asked, her tone curious but unassuming. The question caught me off guard, dragging me from the rhythm of the journey. I hesitated, memories stirring like shadows at the edge of a flame.

  “Well…” I began, my voice uncertain. “I don’t remember much of my life from when I was little. When I arrived in Westray, I was very young.”

  “I thought I heard an accent in your voice,” she chuckled. I gave her a quick smile.

  “Yes, but I lost my parents soon after. They perished on the sea. So I had to learn the common tongue by myself.”

  Faelwen’s brow pinched together in sorrow. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, before I continued.

  “And like most street urchins, I learned to survive on the scraps the world offered. Older boys taught me the tricks of the street until Jesper found me. He saw… potential, I guess. He brought me to the Black Hawks, where Henry, my mentor, shaped me into what I am now.” I glanced at Faelwen and found her watching me intently, her smile warm when I mentioned Jesper.

  “The caretaker,” she murmured. “I remember him. And how you didn’t want to share anything from your past.”

  I nodded a faint smile growing on my lips as well. It wasn’t easy sharing a past burdened with loss.

  “What about you? How did you end up with Barnabas?”

  Her smile faltered, and she looked away, pain flickering across her face. Oops, burdened with loss as well probably.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” I said quickly, regretting the question.

  “It’s okay,” she replied, her voice steady but distant. She spoke of her family, her parents and her younger sister Mira. Her words grew heavier as she recounted the Necromancers who tore her life apart, the horrors she endured before escaping, and the solace she found with Barnabas.

  When she described returning home to find his house in flames, her voice broke, and silence fell between us once more. I looked at her, awash with admiration and sorrow.

  “You’re incredible, Faelwen. A survivor. I’m lucky to have you by my side.” Her lips curved into a grin, bright despite the weight of her memories.

  “And I’m glad to have you, Spook.”

  We shared a smile, the tension easing like a receding tide. But her thoughts drifted, her expression softening into something wistful.

  “You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?” I asked gently, referring to Ash. She nodded, her gaze distant again.

  “Our souls are connected. It’s like a silver thread that binds us, a lifeline neither of us can sever. We can tug at it, feel each other. It’s the only way I know he’s still alive.”

  “What’s he like, your…lover?” The word tasted bitter on my tongue, but I masked it with curiosity, not wanting her to know how I actually felt. She hesitated, probably sensing my discomfort.

  “I think you’d like him. In some ways, he’s… like you.”

  I smirked, playing with my dagger as the nerves coursed through my heart.

  “like me? Tell me more”

  A slight blush appeared on her face.

  “Well you can be…cheeky and bossy,” she chuckled.

  “Cheeky and bossy? Is that your type?” I forced a grin. Anything to keep my emotions buried deep inside of me. Her laugh was light, but her blush betrayed her.

  “When I first met you, you could be… demanding.”

  “Good to know I made an impression.” My grin widened, the distraction working as my feelings faded to the background. I leaned back, swaying with the moose’s stride.

  “Oh come on, Spook. I’m probably not the first woman to have said that about you,” she tried to tease me back. I chuckled.

  “Certainly not. Most women don’t mind a man who knows how to take control.”

  Her blush deepened and she looked away. I raised my eyebrows, the grin still plastered on my face. I was starting to like this response from her.

  “Is he like that too in the bedroom?” I teased, hoping to see that blush again.

  “I… I never slept with anyone before,” she stuttered. The dagger stilled in my hand. How interesting. Virgin. That word lodged somewhere beneath my ribs painfully. Ash would be her first. I hoped he would treat her right, like I would have.

  “If he’s like me, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing. Maybe he’d even invite me along,” I joked, trying to ignore my inner turmoil. Immediately I regretted it when I saw her face darken. I closed my eyes and inwardly groaned. Me and my stupid jokes.

  “Spook!” she exclaimed, her face flaming red. “I do not cheat.”

  “Relax, little fox,” I teased, letting my laughter fill the space between us hoping to chase away the increasing tension. “I was just teasing you.”

  Yet a part of me wondered, if I couldn’t have her heart, could I find solace in her warmth, her friendship maybe? The thought lingered like smoke in the air as we rode into the deepening twilight. And at the sidelong glances she gave me, I wondered if she was thinking about it too.

  By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden light fading into the cold shadows of the mountain, we had reached its base.

  We slid off the backs of the moose, their massive forms casting long shadows in the fading light. They lingered for a moment, their intelligent eyes meeting ours as if bidding silent farewells, before disappearing into the darkening forest. The sound of their heavy hooves faded into the stillness, leaving us alone at the foot of the mountain.

  Ahead of us, the path wound steeply upward, carved into the rugged terrain like a scar from ancient battles. Beyond the first ridge lay Caradsher?n, our destination in the cradle of the mountains.

  The air was growing colder, the warmth of the sun now a distant memory as the creeping fingers of night slithered through the forest. We chose a spot beneath a cluster of trees pressed against the mountainside, their thick trunks offering some shelter.

  The ground was cool and firm, but there was a quiet serenity to the place, as if the mountain itself stood watch. I liked the quiet. Growing up in a bustling city where quiet was a luxury, you learned to appreciate it.

  Faelwen busied herself with a campfire, and soon a fire was crackling at the centre of our small camp. Its flickering glow painted the trees in hues of gold and shadow, its warmth chasing away the night’s growing chill.

  We ate in companionable silence, sharing a simple meal from the provisions Aeon had packed for us. The flavours were humble, but comforting, a fleeting reminder of his care. As we prepared to settle in, I gestured toward the fire.

  “It’ll grow colder tonight under an open sky,” I said, rolling out my bedroll. “We should let the embers burn low. It’ll keep us warm without drawing too much attention.”

  Faelwen nodded, her expression thoughtful.

  “Artemis says it’ll also keep the animals away,” she murmured as she wrapped herself tightly in her bedroll. Her words held a quiet reassurance, as if Artemis’ connection to the natural world was a protective charm against unseen dangers.

  I lay down beside her, exhaustion pulling at my body but my mind still restless. Faelwen closed her eyes, her lips curving into that familiar faint smile that made her look almost ethereal in the firelight.

  I knew her thoughts had drifted to him. A pang of longing twisted in my chest, but I swallowed it down with a quiet sigh, letting my gaze wander upward.

  Through the sparse canopy, the moon hung pale and luminous, casting a gentle glow over the world below. A handful of stars bravely pierced the darkness, their light fragile but enduring. The night felt deeper than it should, the shadows stretching longer, darker, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

  A shiver ran through me, though it wasn’t from the cold. The darkness was growing stronger. I could feel it creeping, whispering on the edge of hearing, a prelude to the horrors it would soon unleash. Why did I ever leave the safe space of the guild. What had I brought upon myself?

  Beside me, Faelwen’s breathing slowed, soft and steady like the rhythm of a peaceful tide. I turned my head toward her, and a small smile tugged at my lips.

  That’s why.

  She lay curled on her side, her hands tucked beneath her cheek, her expression tranquil despite the weight of the journey ahead. Yet even in sleep, the chill of the night reached her. She shivered, her frame trembling like a leaf in an autumn breeze.

  Without thinking, I shifted closer, the cold driving me to offer her my warmth. Her shivering eased as I wrapped an arm around her, and she instinctively curled into me, seeking comfort.

  The sensation of her against me and the faint scent of her hair, was intoxicating. It set my pulse racing, my body aching with a longing I had no right to feel.

  I rested my chin gently atop her head, trying to steady myself. The need to protect her, to keep her safe from those whispers in the shadows around us and within, warred with my unspoken desire. I knew how lonely it could be to face dangers of the world by yourself. And I wouldn’t let her go through that same ache as I went through.

  I closed my eyes and forced the ache to the back of my mind, determined to find rest. Tomorrow would demand everything we had, and I needed to be ready. For now, though, the moment was enough. She was here, safe in my arms. I was free and her presence was a quiet balm against the encroaching darkness.