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I woke early the next morning, wrapped in the folds of my blanket, warm for the first time since I’d climbed out of bed, the day of my arrest.
My arrest.
A part of me still couldn’t believe the words. Not the act itself—witchcraft was a sure sentence, that wasn’t a surprise. But the criminality of it. I had been arrested; like the drunks, and thieves, and other petty crooks I’d seen dragged through the village. I watched in silence along with a crowd of others, wrapped in anonymity, thinking myself quite different from them somehow.
None of them ended up in the tower.
I let out a slow breath, turning my mind to something else. The sun was bright and slanting from the east; the wide branches above us provided little cover. My eyes followed the golden shafts of light, shimmering in the early stillness, highlighting random strips of color, and pooling on the ground. Erik was still asleep beside me, some of that light had caught him as well.
I watched him a moment, smiling to myself.
It felt foolish to me now, that I’d worried about him the day before. Hadn’t the man done enough to prove himself? Was there some greater sacrifice that would finally set my fears at ease? As dusk had fallen, and we were feasting on a lynx he’d brought down in the rocky hills, he confessed he’d spent most of the walk poring over the bloody scene in the cottage, and wondering how I was possibly all right. He didn’t believe it, he’d admitted. How could I have gone through such an ordeal and kept a level head? Mine was the only voice of reason; he’d clung onto it with both hands.
I’d been flushed and pleased, and waved it off like it was nothing. Silly bannerman, I rescued screaming mothers all the time, stitched them back together, extracted their children with an easy grip on the head. But his quip about the hands stuck with me.
I lifted my own, studying them with a slight frown.
Did it really happen?
I’d heard whispers of such things, from the random snippets of talk Karmen allowed to leak into the kitchen. Powers like mine weren’t always used for death and destruction, there were others who used them to heal instead. Of course, none of this had ever been substantiated. They were idle rumors, nothing more. No one had seen anything, no one could prove anything. They were abilities attributed to the ‘wild people.’ A group of slaves and runaways, who were little more than rumors themselves, and never surfaced in conversation unless the rest of us needed somewhere to place the blame. The frustrating thing, was there was no way to know for sure what had happened. The sisters couldn’t see me, the mother was bleeding out. If Erik had seen, he would have said something.
And yet...I’d felt it. Hadn’t I?
A warmth with no explanation. A flicker of light.
It MUST have happened. They wouldn’t have lived otherwise.
There was a stirring of movement beside me, and my arms lowered back to my sides. A few seconds later, Erik’s eyes fluttered open, staring a moment at the bright canopy, before drifting over to mine. They stayed there in silence, warming with a reflexive smile. I smiled in return.
“Good morning,” I murmured.
“It certainly is.”
We lost no time that day getting ready, although there were several more logistics than we’d had the day before. A pack that needed sorting, blades to be polished and sheathed. We might not have been traveling with a specific destination, but there were still people out there, searching the woods somewhere behind us, and after losing a day in the village, it felt good to pick up speed.
We kicked some dirt of the last of the fire, and scattered the rocks around the clearing. By the time it was done, the place looked as though it had never seen people.
“That should throw them,” I declared proudly.
Erik pursed his lips but said nothing. When I nudged him conspiratorially with my elbow, he grinned and rolled his eyes.
We set off in the same general direction we’d been heading, avoiding the river this time, and keeping beneath the cover of the trees. They clustered thick and heavy above us, before breaking suddenly into random patches of grass. We avoided these too, often seeing some larger animals grazing without concern of us. Elk and moose, and things too large to be taken down by a single sword. After the meadows came the ravines. These were trickier, and took a great deal more time. It was well past noon by the time we climbed out of the last of them We threw our packs onto the ledge above us before heaving our bodies over the side. He was always quicker than me, and would offer down a hand. I would always scowl as though it was insulting. Then I would take the hand.
“Look at that, she emerges.” He set me gently on the ground beside him before lifting his hands in sarcastic applause. “It took so long, I thought you must be napping.”
I pulled some leaves from my hair without answering, tossing them into his face. He ducked with a grin, and fell into step beside me. This was becoming natural, we’d found a sort of rhythm.
It wasn’t long before we left the trees entirely, pausing on a ridge that overlooked the valley with their long shadows at our backs. It felt strange to leave their cover, like peeling off a blanket and stepping into the morning air. For a full minute, the two of us merely stood there, staring in both directions. The hills were bare, the valley was empty, save for one thing running up the middle.
A road.
“I vote we return to the forest,” I whispered, tugging childishly at his sleeve.
He shook his head faintly, still scanning for signs of life. “You lost the right to vote after that incident with the raccoon,” he answered, whispering theatrically as well. “Besides, it might help to get some idea where we are.”
...I would rather not discuss the raccoon.
With a little sigh, I followed him down the steep bank, touching my hand to the ground occasionally for balance. It was a rough climb, but every step was cushioned with soft grass. When we came to the road, we stopped—staring at a wooden post that had been nailed to the side.
...is that?
I couldn’t believe it. In the middle of nowhere, an actual sign.
It didn’t strike me until later, it was precisely because the place was in the middle of nowhere, someone had the good sense to erect such a thing. Merchants used the road often, and likely knew the path, but it was frequented by travelers as well. The edges of the planks had been shaved on both sides to resemble a kind of arrow. There were more than a dozen, each with small numerals beside them and faded lettering scribbled on the sides.
Some of the places I knew, others were a mystery.
I murmured the names under my breath. “Lund...Brita...Lindholm...Artus...”
“Which way should we go?” I asked, lifting my fingers to the wood.
We were heading north, this had been Erik’s plan. But that now implied several different routes we could take. The bridge to Artus was said to be one of the marvels of our world. But anything past that, and one needed to cross a rather suicidal range of mountains. Brita was nice.
I threw him a quick glance. “How about Brita?” I asked.
It kept to the general direction, and was far without being too far. We could likely make it there before winter, barring any accidents along the way. Of course, the settlement itself would be out of the question, but there were many smaller villages scattered alongside. We could choose one and disappear among the locals, discover the wonders of farming, Erik could dye his hair.
He stood beside me a moment, then shook his head. “We should head towards Lindholm.”
I glanced at the sign again, my eyes traveling to the northern most point. “You can’t be serious,” I exclaimed. “That’s the farthest one away, Erik. There’s scarcely room for it on the sign. There’s no way we can make it before the snows come, and once they do, we’ll be trapped in the middle of the mountains. Supplies or not, we’ll most definitely freeze.”
He tensed a little, but stood his ground.
“We needn’t go all the way,” he said lightly. “I have no greater desire to journey across those mountains more than you. But the distance is good, it will be harder for them to find us.”
Because it’s a frozen wilderness!
“Think about this,” I tried to reason, “it’s hundreds of leagues away from here. Summer will be over soon, and it’s coming on fall.” I threw up my hands. “It’s near the Riders, for Oden’s sake—”
“We needn’t go all the way,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself. “And it won’t matter if we outrun the seasons, as long as—”
SCREECH!
We jumped back in shock.
A large hawk appeared from nowhere, diving out of the heavens and alighting suddenly on the post. Its tawny feathers ruffled importantly, like it was irritated by the inconvenience, while it cocked its black head to the side, regarding us with a single judgmental eye.
After all this time, I should give you a name, I thought, stunned I hadn’t done this already.
“Hello,” I said brightly, returning its gaze with a coaxing smile. “What are you doing here?”
Erik glanced between us, still trying to catch his breath. “That can’t be the same one. I’d swear it was following you.”
If only you knew...
I regarded the bird with a thoughtful gaze, having long ago lost my shock of it. Yes, it had interrupted our almost kiss after the festival outside my house, but since then, we’d done much more than that. Truth be told, there was a part of me that was nearly expecting to see it again.
It stared directly back, its taloned claws wrapped around a particular sign.
“It seems to think we should go to Brita,” I said testily, flashing Erik a sour look.
“Does it now.” He seemed more amused than anything, though utterly bewildered as to why the creature might have arrived. His eyes drifted to the heavens, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed on the verge of considering it. But the moment passed, and he shook his head. “We should head north, towards Lindholm. We will stop well before the mountains,” he assured me.
Without a second thought, he began pacing in that precise direction, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was coming along. I nodded vaguely when he called to me, but lingered in front of the sign, chewing my lip nervously and staring at the hawk. I couldn’t say why, but it felt strange to be disagreeing—not that it had done anything more than perch on a particular post. After a few seconds, I gave up and hurried after him, stumbling to catch up in the tall grass. When I looked behind me, the bird was still sitting right where we’d left it, staring with a beady eye.
* * *
The hours passed quickly, with a summer sun rising high above us. It wasn’t long before we were stripping down layers, removing those hard-won cloaks and placing them into the satchels we now carried on our shoulders. I had been shocked when the villagers first presented them, pulling them off some long-forgotten shelf in one of the cottages along the square. They were meant for long travel, the kind of thing rangers would use, or merchants—if they were snaking down one of our long roads instead of ferrying across the sea. Many times, I’d seen them in my own settlement; never once had I imagined I might use one myself. A dark supple leather, it was a miracle they hadn’t been stripped for shoes. But every stitch had been made to perfection, molding themselves against our backs like they’d been made for no other shape. I was already half-in love with mine.
That being said, it was getting quite heavy.
“Can I ask you a question?” Erik broke the long silence, glancing over from where he walked beside me on the trail. A look at his face, said he’d already been mulling it over for some time. It wasn’t until a moment later, I realized why. “How is it...?” He stopped himself nervously, then started again. “How is it that you can read?”
Ah, I should have expected this.
Instead of answering, I twisted my face into a scowl.
“Is it really that surprising?” I asked stiffly.
I’d done it only to play upon his anxiety, but it clearly did the trick. His eyes flashed to mine, tense with apology. But there were no games about him. When he answered, it was merely plain.
“You read better than many of the boys I grew up with,” he replied. “They were lords’ sons, hired the finest tutors and given instruction since birth. I would not have thought...”
He caught himself again, chancing another look at me.
“Such a thing might be achieved by a lowly servant?” I offered helpfully.
He stilled, then flashed a grin. “Yes, that.”
We smiled to ourselves, and it grew quiet for a moment. Almost sixteen years, and not a single person had ever asked me that question. It took a moment to assemble the words.
“It was because of Trina,” I finally answered, warming at the thought. “After my grandmother died, Trina showed up one afternoon at the doorstep. I was depressed. I couldn’t remember my mother. Karmen was the only family I’d ever known. I think I just couldn’t wrap my head around it,” I admitted, “how she could be there one day, and then just...gone.”
Erik grew thoughtful, staring at the side of my face. “I can understand that,” he said quietly. “It was the same when I lost my father. There one day, and gone the next. I think some part of me is still waiting for him to come back.”
My back stiffened at the mention of his father, and my eyes cut sideways to his face. There had been half a dozen times, I’d almost told him the secret of our parents’ fateful summer.
Something had stopped me every time.
“So your aunt began making plans?” he asked, moving us past it.
I nodded, dropping my eyes to the trail. “She tried everything to pull me out of it; taking endless walks through the forest, listening for hours on end while I ranted and railed.” I paused, glancing at him. “This is a woman short on patience to begin with.” He smiled a little as I continued, eyes flicking to my lips. “Finally, she sat me down and said, ‘What do you want, Liv? Anything in the entire kingdom.’”
He lifted an eyebrow, and I gave a little shrug.
“She is also quite industrious.”
He nodded, still smiling. “This, I can easily imagine.”
“I told her, I wanted to read,” I said simply. “She started teaching me the very next day.”
How it was that Trina learned how to read, was a story I had never asked her. At first, I was too shy—I’d learned a little of her past, by then. I knew she’d been a whore. And later, I guess I just didn’t remember. I’d always thought there would be time for things like that.
There was supposed to be time.
“What about your father?” I asked sharply, making him jump.
He glanced down with a touch of surprise. “What about him?”
I shrugged, acting like it didn’t matter. “What was he like? You were seven, weren’t you? When he died? You must have some memories.” I tempered my tone, glancing from the corner of my eye. “What was he like?”
His lovely face clouded, as he withdrew into himself. It was such an abrupt shift, I almost regretted asking. But he was honestly considering, sifting through memories dulled by time.
“Sad,” he finally answered, lips curving with a wistful smile. “He was kind, but...sad. I can only remember a handful of times I ever saw him smile. Then the raids came in the spring, and he was gone. I remember watching for him at the window. He never came back.”
I kept my eyes on the ground, breathing very fast.
Sad.
It was the only thing I hadn’t been expecting. One that stopped all my pre-rehearsed answers in their tracks. Truth be told, it wasn’t how I’d been imagining him. A haughty bannerman, shining and proud. Handsome and charming, he must have been, to win over someone like my mother. But in all my imaginings, he was always smiling, almost smirking. I couldn’t imagine him sad.
He went to the king, begged for mercy.
A little voice chimed in my ear, like I’d somehow forgotten. The same thought must have occurred to Erik, because a kind of shadow passed over his face. Several times, it looked like he was about to speak. But his thoughts kept to themselves. In the end, he merely shook his head.
“There was much I didn’t know about him.”
The path sloped higher, and we continued walking into the forest.
We didn’t talk about parents again.
* * *
It was nearly dark by the time I saw it, materializing from the forest like something out of a dream. I blinked my eyes twice, but it was still there when I looked again.
A cabin.
I stopped abruptly in my tracks, fighting the urge to run.
Where had it come from? That was the question. And what in the world was it doing by itself in the middle of the woods? It stood as naturally amongst the trees as if it had grown there as well. A little porch wrapped around the front of it. The roof was notched with a small chimney.
“Are you seeing this, too?” I whispered, edging instinctively away.
Erik stopped beside me, nodding his head. “That’s convenient. It’s nearly nightfall.”
I snorted under my breath, thinking he must be joking. But at no point, did I raise my voice to anything above a whisper. He must have been crazy to say it so loud.
“Hang on, I know this story,” I muttered, backing further away and reaching blindly for his wrist. “There’s a witch inside, not fond of children. Let’s take the long way around.”
“It looks empty,” he said loudly, avoiding my grasp. A second later, he was pacing towards it, pulling a knife from its sheath as he jogged up the front steps of the porch.
I rooted behind him, waving frantically for him to come back. “Erik, seriously...that’s precisely what they did in the story.”
“It’s empty,” he declared, like I hadn’t spoken. “There’s a layer of dust on everything, no one has been anywhere near this place.” He peeked tentatively inside the nearest window, before sliding his knife back into its sheath. “Come on, this is as good a spot to sleep as any.”
My jaw fell open, he must be mad. “I let you pick the village,” I finally answered, “even though the bird and I thought it was a bad idea. Under no possible circumstance am I setting foot in that house.”
He trotted down the steps again, flushed and grinning. “Why not? I was starting to think you were quite brave.”
“Brave,” I answered, “not suicidal. Seriously, Erik—get away from there. We have no idea who owns this place, or what weapons they might be carrying. We need to leave at once!”
“There’s no one inside,” he repeated slowly, emphasizing every word. “There’s been no one here for weeks—look around, do you see any tracks?”
I wouldn’t have seen them anyway. I glared at him instead. “I want to leave.”
“And I want to sleep indoors,” he countered, reaching tentatively for my hand. I yanked it back like he was a snake. “So do you, Liv. And why not? This is likely an abandoned hunting lodge,” he continued, glancing around the sides. “Those aren’t so uncommon. It will be busy in the spring, but it’s long empty by now. Why shouldn’t we stay the night? At least the night.”
Why shouldn’t we?
My eyes narrowed, as a thousand scathing responses rose to my lips. Most of them included words I’d learned at the docks from the sailors. Some of them included snakes.
Before I could say any of them, he raised a finger and pressed it to my lips.
“You are right to be cautious,” he said softly, “I don’t deny it. And gods know, we have good reason to be looking over our backs. But this place is empty, and has been for some time. It isn’t plotted on any map, we have stumbled upon it by accident.” He drew in a breath, looking down into my eyes. “Liv, I promise you...this will be all right.” He paused a moment. “Do you trust me?”
I froze beneath his gaze, as my heart went suddenly still.
Do I trust him?
A great lord from the northern kingdom, a champion turned exile, the boy chosen to be king. The son of a great bannerman, the man who’d loved my mother, and sentenced her to death.
Do I trust him?
“Yes, I do.”
We went into the cabin.
* * *
It was nicer than it looked from the outside, more spacious as well. There were several rooms, including a wide hearth set before a large table—one that was assumedly used for cleaning game. Several chairs had been shoved into a corner; the grooves made by their legs had been long coated in dust. Erik was right, this place hadn’t seen people in a long time. We set our packs slowly by the fireplace, staring in silence, like we’d been placed under some kind of spell.
“It’s cozy,” he said after a moment.
I flashed him a look, finding humor for the first time. No spooks or goblins had leapt out to grab us. The air smelled of stale smoke and dust.
“Cozy,” I repeated with amusement. “This is bigger than my entire house.”
He shrugged and turned away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like peasant under his breath. Before I had time to challenge it, he turned with a broad smile—feeling the creak of floorboards under his feet, instead of pine needles. There was a room down the hall, with a bed.
“We made it,” he breathed, happier than I’d ever seen.
My eyebrows lifted slightly, confused by his choice of words. Did he think our troubles were finished? That our journey had come to an end? He’d literally just picked the furthest possible point on the map. It reminded me of that moment outside the village, when I was mending his clothes.
We will need to come back, he’d started to say.
I opened my mouth, but before I could ask, he swept forward and scooped me right off the floor. My breath caught in surprise, as I grabbed his shoulders for balance. Round and round he spun me, almost laughing at the sight of it, practically giddy with relief.
“What would you like for dinner?” he asked, dropping me nearly as fast. I landed with a plop in front of him, staring in open astonishment. “Whatever you like—I will find it for you.”
What in Valhalla is going on?
“Are you...?” I took a step back, wondering how to phrase it. Had the fever returned, or was he really this happy to be sleeping indoors. “Are you not worried—”
“I am not worried,” he interjected, still grinning, “I am hungry. And I wish to prepare a feast for you. You deserve it,” he added, throwing open his arm and gesturing out the window to the wide swath of forest we’d just climbed. “Look at how far you’ve come, and with no one the wiser. Now for the first night in ages, we have a roof over our heads, and a door—to keep out whatever foul beasts may be prowling in the night.” He lowered his voice theatrically, before bursting into a smile once again. “Come—tell me. I wish to feed you. You are gorgeous, but painfully thin.”
I blinked in amazement, temporarily mute.
If I’d been surprise by him twirling me around, I had no idea what to make of this new side of him. The kind that called me beautiful, and professed a sudden need to cook. There was a part of me that couldn’t stop bristling, no matter how brightly his eyes were twinkling. Another part felt like it was waking up, but slowly. He was right, the cheerful lunatic. For days we’d been trekking through the woods, growing frightened and cold every time the sun fell. Only now, there was a roof between us and the drenching mists that rolled down from the heavens. Let the wolves come, we had a door.
A smile crept slowly up the side of my face.
“I like fish,” I said tentatively.
He beamed in reply. “I shall get you a fish.”
He was gone before I could say another word, grabbing the sword from his belt and striding onto the porch. His boots stomped loudly down the steps, as he strode into the forest, picking a direction at random and swearing not to return until he’d caught a hundred. I swear, the man was whistling under his breath. I walked out behind him, spinning and amused. My eyes followed until they could see him no longer, lingering on the bright flash of his sword as he paced into the wood
How will you catch a fish with that?
* * *
Badly, that’s how.
Erik came back at sundown, not with a string, but a bag. The sword had been cumbersome, yet disturbingly effective. The fish had been hacked into little pieces.
We took a single look at them, and decided to make a stew. It bubbled and popped over a slow-burning fire, stirred in a caldron we found in one of the cupboards. We filled our bellies, as the moon rose high above us. The flames warmed the little room, casting everything in a golden glow.
“We should get some sleep,” he finally murmured, leaning back in a chair with a contented smile. He’d waited until the fourth time I yawned to suggest it, locking the troubles that hunted us firmly on the other side of the door. “The day has been long.”
I nodded drowsily, unable to remember when it had started.
It started several days ago.
We pushed to our feet, moving at the same time towards the large room at the end of the hallway, only to come to a simultaneous stop at the sight of a large and inviting bed.
A single bed.
“It’s yours,” he said quickly, pulling one of the blankets from his pack. Already, he was spreading it over the floorboards. “I’ll be out here—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I interrupted without thinking, reaching out to catch his arm. “We’ve slept beside each other every other night. Now that we finally have a mattress, you wish to sleep on the ground?” A look passed between us, and my cheek flamed with a blush. “It will be fine, Erik. It’s a huge bed. There is room enough for both of us.” I paused. “Or I could sleep on the ground.”
He chuckled at this, rising to his feet. “You would rise in vengeance halfway through the night. Impale me with a spoon.”
I nodded in playful agreement. “It would take ages with a spoon. I’d relish every moment.”
Together, the two of us headed down the hallway, flashing a quick look at the other, before pacing to different corners of the room and preparing for bed. For the first time since I’d met him, he unwound the long braids that had been strung through his hair, letting it fall in loose waves to his shoulders. I took off my cloak and we both kicked our shoes into the corner, exchanging another silent look, before we climbed into opposite sides of the bed.
There were sheets upon the mattress. I had never seen this. Two pillows lay at the head, and there were at least three different blankets piled on top. He’d drawn the curtains over the window, but a thick taper was burning by the door. I hadn’t noticed him light it, but was grateful for it now.
This is heaven, I thought in spite of myself, stretching out my legs and drawing the blankets to my chin with a hidden smile. I flashed a look to the side, catching his eyes in the flickering dark.
“Is this like your bed at home?” I asked, relishing the novelty too much to be embarrassed.
He smiled warmly, and some of the tension eased. “It’s better,” he replied, though I couldn’t see how this was true.
“Oh really?” I quipped, rolling onto my side and propping up on an elbow. “And here I thought you were so spoiled.”
He mimicked my posture immediately, eyes dancing in the light. “Do I come across as spoiled?”
Yes.
“You had coin in your pocket, and didn’t know it. You thought we could purchase an entire camp’s worth of items with a single piece of bronze.” I ticked things off my fingers, like I was reading from a list. “You got permission to board a ship, just by speaking with the captain—”
“There was nothing spoiled about that,” he defended himself, grinning all the while. “I simply took the man aside and told him the truth.”
“Oh yes?” I asked, looking at him curiously. “What truth was that?”
He paused a moment, seeming to realize that he’d said too much. It went quiet between us, growing louder by the second, before he decided to say it anyway.
“That I was trying to impress a girl.”
The temperature jumped like a furnace, as a hush fell over the room. I was suddenly aware of every inch of my body, of the sound of each passing breath. It seemed I had never really known quiet until that very moment. When it seemed the only thing between us, doomed from the start.
“That night after you fought in the arena,” I whispered, trying to find my breath, “when you walked me home...were you really going to ask me to come with you?”
He drew in a long breath himself, like it was the only thing grounding him.
“I wanted to,” he answered softly. “I couldn’t sleep that night for thinking about it.” He was quiet for a few seconds, staring vacantly into the dark. “Perhaps these things only come when we’re ready,” he finally concluded. “Would you have come with me, before that day?”
Our eyes met in a single moment of connection.
“I would come with you now.”
He reached across the bed and pulled me suddenly towards him, cupping my face between both hands, as we came together in a passionate kiss. It was wet, and grasping and so damn long coming. I surfaced for air, only to grab him back again, crushing his face against mine.
My head was spinning into oblivion, I had never been kissed like this in my life. I had never been kissed at all, save for a few awkward pecks behind the butcher’s shop, with awkward boys half as scared as me. Erik was nothing like them. He kissed the way he did everything else.
Like the gods themselves were watching.
His hands were drifting lower, sliding down the sides of my neck, tangling in my hair. I gasped for breath, and moved us even closer. There was something wild about him, but something almost painfully gentle at the same time.
The candle was flickering in the doorway. I couldn’t seem to get any air.
When his fingers reached the laces on my tunic, a shiver flew up my spine. He had done this before, I could tell. There was no hesitation about him, the movements were practiced and sure.
I...was having a different time.
“Is this all right?” he breathed, pressing a kiss behind my ear.
What kind of man asks?
I nodded quickly, unable to speak. His fingers loosened the cords and eased the tunic free, dropping it noiselessly on the ground beside us. Feeling suddenly bold, I reached for him as well, running my fingers down the smooth muscles in his chest, before sliding them under his shirt. He shivered at my touch and obliged immediately, ripping it off and tossing it next to mine.
He was kissing again; first my neck, then my collarbone. His hair tickled my sides, as his lips ran in a smooth line down the center of my chest to my stomach. One hand reached down my leg, gathering my skirt and easing it upwards. My back arched reflexively, my blood was running fast.
Is this actually happening? The question flew wild through my head, pinned almost immediately to another. Do I want this to happen?
The answer to both questions was the same, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I could hardly sort dream from reality, and found myself blurting something very different instead.
“Where did you get the key?”
He paused, then pulled back. His lips were parted, and he was breathing very quickly. It took a moment to come back to himself, replaying the awkward question.
“The key?” he asked, a bit breathlessly.
I nodded, gazing down at him. “To my cell, you never told me.”
WHY would he tell you NOW?!
My pulse was racing, and there was a part of me that was quite ready to murder the other side of my brain. For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why I’d said it. Why those precise words had flown unbidden from my lips. It looked like Erik couldn’t believe it either. He was staring up at me in amazement, cheeks flushed and breathing fast. He shook his head a little, and forced himself to smile. It was so admirably done, I might have even believed it. But his body was pressed on top of mine when I’d asked the question. I felt when his heart froze in his chest.
“I told you,” he finally replied, trying again to play it off. “I have my tricks.”
My skin went cold and I hitched myself onto my elbows. A strange feeling was stirring inside of me, so different from the sensations just a moment before. It felt like a kind of dread.
“What are they?” I asked in a low voice, staring at him with a fear I was only just beginning to name. “Erik...where did you get the key?”
He stared at me a moment longer, then let out a quiet breath. “From my uncle.”
For the length of a heartbeat, things were perfectly quiet.
Then—
“What?!”
I scrambled away from him without thinking, paling in sudden horror, and clamping my arms over my chest. A few seconds before, my skin had been on fire. Now my blood ran cold. Everything rushed together, everything that had happened, everything that was going to happen. I couldn’t breathe.
He lifted both hands, leaning back on his knees. “It’s not what you think—
“Erik!”
“It’s not what you think,” he repeated, almost desperately. With every second that passed, we seemed to be getting further and further away. “Liv, please just listen—”
“This place,” I shrieked, putting it suddenly together, “this mysterious cabin. Does he know about this as well? You picked that sign and headed right toward it!” Everything clicked into place suddenly. “He sent you here—admit it!”
By now, I was practically screaming. My body was coiled, shaking beyond control. Twice, he tried to reach for me. Twice, I violently recoiled. The second time, I drew blood.
“Please, just listen,” he pleaded, a feral scratch on the side of his face. “He gave me the key, I admit it. And he told me about the cabin. But it isn’t what you think, Liv. He’s been trying to...”
He trailed off abruptly, turning with sudden attention to the window. A strange look passed across his face, like he was listening very hard, before every muscle in his body went horribly still.
His lips parted in confusion, an almost dreamlike surprise.
“What—”
The door kicked open a second later, flying off the hinges and splintering violently into the air. A troop of armed men stomped over it, pointing at the bed with a circle of glittering spears.
“You’re under arrest, by order of the king.”
THE END
