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A STRANGE PROPOSITION
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JASPER WOKE TO THE sharp smell of tea tree oil and shooting pains down his arms and spine. White bandages covered his wounds, but red patches were beginning to blossom from underneath. His tongue scratched like sandpaper in his mouth. It ached when he pushed it against the inside of his cheek. He raised his hand to the side of his face and winced.
So, it’s still swollen, he thought. He noticed a glass of water on the table beside him, along with his black horn-rimmed glasses, though they had been snapped in two and the lenses cracked beyond repair. He sighed but figured it was for the best anyway. They might be too conspicuous in a place like this, he thought, reaching over instead for the glass of water. He let out a strained groan as he stretched his arm.
“Let me help,” Brass said, appearing at the door.
“Thanks,” Jasper replied. He gulped it down quickly despite the pain in his cheek. “Have I been out long?”
“A few hours. They brought you back just after midnight.”
“Alright,” he replied, straining to sit upright. Brass twirled his fingers and sent an air current beneath him to ease the strain on his muscles. “Thanks.”
Brass inclined his head. “How are those bandages? Too tight?”
“No, they’re fine,” he replied, his mind elsewhere. He glanced around the empty room disheartened.
“She’s not here,” Brass said casually.
“Who?” Jasper lied, but the sorry look in Brass’ eyes told him there was no use in pretending. Jasper sighed. “I know.” Had he really expected she would be? That she would be sitting at his bedside with tears in her eyes, ready to hug him as he woke? No, that wouldn’t be like her, he thought, no matter how much he wished it were. “Is she okay?”
“She was shaken. I believe she’s feeling guilty about what happened.” From his casual tone, Jasper gathered he wasn’t fully informed about the night’s events, but that he didn’t want to be either. “Very worried about you, but I told her and everyone that came asking that you needed to rest.”
“Who else came looking?” he asked gingerly. But the curious smile on his face turned into a frown as his least favourite person waltzed through the door.
“Good, you’re up,” Griffin said as he pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Brass, go check on Sebastian and make sure he isn’t straining his wounds.”
Brass looked as though he were about to make a comment before simply bowing out.
“What do you want?” Jasper asked apathetically. He wasn’t going to hide his disgust. It didn’t matter who Griffin was; he still irritated him; it was still his fault they were all in this mess in the first place. Savara had fallen for his stupid mysterious gaze, and now they were both worse off for it. Griffin deserved to be reminded of it at every possible moment.
Griffin didn’t answer. He looked over Jasper’s wounds and his swollen face. There was no remorse in his voice when he finally said, “You’ve changed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jasper replied irritably.
“You’re less of a man-child than the person I arrived with.” Griffin’s face was stoic as he spoke. “I mean, there’s still room for improvement, but at least you’re growing.”
“Is there a point to your insults?”
“Considering what lies ahead, it’s for the better. I doubt the old you would’ve survived.” Jasper disregarded the pain as he balled his hands into fists. Any more patronising statements and he would let them fly right into Griffin’s jaw. He might break his wrist, but it would be well worth it to wipe that look from his face. Griffin stared down at the fists and added, “I know you don’t trust me.”
That’s an understatement, Jasper thought. A reddish glow crept into his cheeks. He lowered his head, letting his brown curls fall in front of his eyes. “No.” And I’d rather not be having this conversation either.
Griffin pulled out a brand-new pair of glasses, not like his ones but more like the spectacles Savara’s uncle used to wear that were taken from him during the kidnap. These weren’t as feeble or wiry, though still equally round.
“What’s the occasion?” Jasper asked sceptically.
“Consider it a peace offering.” For someone as eloquent as Griffin, the words seemed to be getting caught in his throat.
He’s playing at something, thought Jasper.
“I know you wish to protect her,” Griffin continued. Jasper looked back at him, a crease forming between his eyebrows, but he kept his mouth shut as he waited for Griffin to get to the point—a cue not misread. “If you hadn’t realised, she is special... in more ways than one.” His tone softened. “She has a part to play in future events, as do we all, but I want to make sure that she survives it. In the end, we both want the same thing.”
“Is that supposed to endear me to you?” Jasper growled.
“No,” Griffin assured him in his same steady, cocky tone. “I’m going to be honest with you because I need your help, and I know you won’t give it unless I am. It’s why I brought you here in the first place.”
Jasper raised an eyebrow but maintained his silence. What could this asshole possibly need with me?
He figured Griffin was using Savara—and he’d told her as much—but he never thought for a second that Griffin would have plans for him too. Although, in hindsight, Griffin was too calculating to have let even someone as inconspicuous as him slide through the cracks in his plans.
“If what you said in the woods was true—”
“You think I’m lying?”
“No, but if what you said is true, that would lead whoever they were into the Harri capital of Idune, and if there are Argia captives among them, I can only assume they intend to start a war within the city.” Jasper could tell the words rattled even Griffin to speak. “I didn’t realise it before our visit to the palace, but after seeing it for myself, and considering what you’ve told me, I believe the attack will be another distraction for something even more sinister.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jasper began, though it pained him to speak too much, “I’m,” he considered his choice of words, “glad, I guess, that you’re trusting me with all of this, but I don’t understand. We aren’t friends, and you know this. So why?”
Griffin sighed. “The world is shifting. Spirits that have long slept are waking up, and part of it is because of her. Her soul belongs to those spirits.”
“If any harm comes to her—”
“I am seeing to it that it doesn’t,” Griffin interrupted. “But I will need your help.” He pulled out a book from under his cloak and rested it on Jasper’s bed. “You like to read, I gather. Something we have in common.”
Jasper’s eyes widened as he stared at the ornate, leather-bound book beside him. “Where did you get this?” he asked, recognising it as a twin to the volume he’d taken from Hyrum. “And what do you want from me?”
“In my tent, there is a library. All the questions you have about this world, these people, you will find the answers you seek in these books. They’re yours, on one condition.”
Of course, with Griffin, there were always conditions.
“In that collection, there are a series of journals written in an ancient text that few alive can even begin to grasp. Brass tells me you might be able to read them. My father was in the process of translating them before he died.” Griffin turned away as he mentioned his father, but Jasper caught a glimpse of the soft frown on his face. If he didn’t think him an arrogant, manipulative dick, he might have even felt sorry for him. He was happy to know that everyone, even Griffin, had someone who ruffled their feathers.
Even before he took hold of the book, he knew what it was. Everything from the feel of the embossed, worn leather to the elegant, handwritten, ink-splotched flourishes that lined the pages. Jasper’s mind had already set itself to figuring out where Griffin had found it. He looked up to ask why, but Griffin gazed down at him with deep, sorrowful eyes, silencing all questions. Jasper couldn’t possibly comprehend the pain Griffin felt but he understood the determination. Whatever was in these pages was important. His task was important.
“Will this help her?” Jasper asked, worried by the way Griffin’s tone had softened. He’d unconsciously stopped on a page with a picture of the divination symbol scrawled across the top righthand corner and sprawling letters of a different tongue trailing down the rest of the page.
“I believe so,” Griffin replied, but Jasper knew he wasn’t entirely sure about that either.
Jasper sighed. “Fine.”
Griffin dipped his head tentatively and made for the door, stopping at the threshold. He turned back to Jasper hesitantly.
“You love her,” he said softly. Jasper flared his nostrils and huffed, but Griffin must have accepted this as an answer. “That’s good. She’ll need it. It just might be the thing that saves her.” He bowed his head and set off into the dawn, leaving Jasper alone with his thoughts.
He didn’t know how to interpret Griffin’s last words. It seemed they’d made a truce, for now, and that Griffin wasn’t interested in Savara romantically so much as militaristically. At least that meant he wasn’t a threat, but it also meant that he was willing to put her in danger. Jasper couldn’t say which he preferred. Savara was more than capable of getting herself into trouble. She didn’t need Griffin to help her along.
Jasper had never prayed before. He’d never been to church, and he wasn’t fond of the idea of some grand entity watching over everyone’s suffering for its own entertainment. Despite this, he rested the book on the bedside table, clasped his hands, and began to pray.
“I’ve never asked for your help before. Hopefully, that means I’m long overdue a favour. I don’t even know if you’re listening, but just in case you are, please watch over her. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. And though I am going to protect her—you know I’d give my life for her—I just don’t know if I’ll be enough. I’m worried about what this world has in store for us... for everyone. Please, whoever you are, wherever you may be. Please watch over us all...”
Jasper had never thought much of his own voice. It wasn’t loud or imposing. It wasn’t a voice that people usually paid any attention to. He’d gotten used to people not listening to him, but that night, he hoped—with the feeble heart of broken souls—that someone out there was.
