Finally the ice city came into view, sparkling on the horizon, and he slowed, trying to prepare himself for what he knew would be waiting for him there.
The gates opened, and there was his mother, waiting on the mighty steps of her palace, her arms opening in joy. He’d forgotten that they would know he was coming—the Elves always seemed to know where he was.
Fern couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been here. With Jane.
And Athena. Gods, what was he to do about her? He’d not seen her since agreeing to marry her.
He retreated to his room to dress for dinner with the queen and the other princes. His door opened before he had a chance to pull a new tunic on over his naked chest, and Athena entered, looking lovely in blue.
Fern’s stomach clenched and he grabbed a shirt to cover himself quickly.
She came forward to embrace him, her eyes full of tears. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she said.
‘And I you,’ he replied flatly.
‘I hope you will be able to tell me what happened.’
‘Maybe. In the future,’ he said quietly, unable to meet her eyes.
‘Of course. Whatever you want. Tonight is about celebration.’
The words were hollow in his ears, but Fern nodded anyway.
‘Shall we go?’ Apparently Athena was coming to dinner with them. As she was seated next to him at the ice table, it became clear that the engagement was still on.
Both Eben and Silven embraced him, and Fern smiled at seeing how well they were.
‘I need something from you all,’ Fern murmured once they were seated. ‘I don’t want to announce my return just yet. I would prefer to keep it quiet.’
‘Darling,’ said Liensenne, ‘the Elvish people already know. We have been celebrating every night since your rebirth.’
Fern sighed. ‘All right, then I would like it to stay just between our people. I’d prefer for father and the humans not to know just yet.’
His mother’s eyes glowed with triumph.
‘Not because I’ve lost any of my loyalty to them,’ he said firmly. ‘But because it will need a proper announcement, and I’m not sure I am ready for it yet.’
They each agreed. And of course, the conversation he’d been dreading was not long in coming.
‘Now that you are back, dear, you may marry,’ Liensenne said to her son as the five of them dined.
Fern stared at her wearily, unable to summon the energy to argue.
‘Athena has already waited three years. Do not keep her waiting any longer.’
Fern listened as his mother went on, aware of Athena’s embarrassed silence next to him.
‘Besides, the marriage will strengthen the alliance between humans and Elves that you have sought all these years.’
Fern understood the threat in her voice. There would be no alliance if he did not marry. Well, why not? he thought, ignoring the numbness around his heart. If not Jane, then why not Athena?
Best to feel nothing than all this pain, the colossal weight of it overwhelming him.
How could she have died and left him alone with all of this?
His mother wanted them to be married the next day. He had no time to think. It happened as if in a whirlwind.
The ceremony was beautiful—perfectly Elvish—and Athena was happy. They were married at dusk on a high pillar that overlooked the city, which glistened in the fading sun, she wearing an earthly green and he in brown. The Elves rejoiced.
Fern felt nothing.
Two nights later he had the dream.
A woman he could not properly see was walking towards him. She was crying—weeping with terrible sorrow. He asked her why.
You’ve done something you shouldn’t have,
she whispered.
Her tears became huge, so that each one fell and made a river below them. Soon the river became an ocean, and Fern was swimming in it.
Please stop crying,
he told her.
You’re drowning me.
I thought you wanted to die?,
she said, her voice so achingly sweet that it hurt his ears.
I do,
Fern admitted,
but I do not have the luxury. There’s too much I’m needed for.
Instantly the woman stopped crying and the ocean was gone. Now Fern stood on a dry plain, not another living thing in sight. For some reason the question was still in his heart, and he knew that the answer would save him from this desert.
Why were you crying? What have I done?
Finally she replied.
You disobeyed your heart, and a part of me died when you did so. You didn’t even wait a week. You married someone you do not love, when you could have had your heart’s truest desire.
You must not know my truest desire,
Fern replied,
because she is past my reach. She is dead.
No,
the woman said.
She is only waiting. For you, Fern. You are the only one who can call her back. You could have been together, but now because of your haste, you will both live in torment.
Suddenly Fern sank into a bed of sand that slowly pulled him down.
Desperately he tried to ask more, but his mouth was already under the sand, and she did not hear him.
Part 2
Anna flattened herself against the underbrush. Peering through the shrubbery, she watched for any signs of movement. She held her knife by the tip, ready to throw, and waited, still as a rock.
And then she saw him, high in a tree at the edge of the clearing. She saw only a glint of his sword through the leaves, but it was enough. She aimed and threw in one fluid motion, watching the knife as it soared through the air and sank into the branch next to his head.
She stood and moved into the clearing. A moment later, Locke swung from the tree, landing gracefully on the ground, looking like a wild thing from the forest. Anna stared at him, feeling her pulse quicken.
He stalked forward, his body ever on the alert.
‘Good,’ he said, his voice a low growl. ‘But you still need improvement. That was too slow.’
Anna sighed and leapt into the tree, scrambling quickly upwards until she reached her knife. She retrieved it and sheathed it in her pouch. With a pointed, showy flip she landed smoothly on the ground next to him. He took no notice. He never did. Sometimes she struggled to reach him, to call him back to her. Sometimes it frightened her that she didn’t know who he was, that she had no idea where he came from. She had found him years ago alone in the woods. He was her secret, her one indulgence.
‘She wants to go away,’ Anna said softly, watching for any sign that he was listening. ‘She thinks there is a threat.’
‘You know how to deal with threats to her.’
Anna shook her head. ‘No. This is different.’ She cracked her knuckles and began the stretches he had taught her. ‘She cannot name the threat. But she says it’s bigger than all of us, and far beyond what I can protect her from.’
‘She may think that,’ Locke said softly, ‘But she has yet to see all that you are capable of.’
Anna smiled. He never complimented her. It didn’t seem to be a thing he understood the need for.
‘She wants to go away in search of a wise man she has heard of in Cynis Witron. She wants to go alone.’
‘So you follow her from a distance,’ he said flatly.
‘But—’
‘Anna,’ he said slowly, meeting her eyes with his own dark ones. Sometimes, in certain lights, his eyes seemed an impossible, deep burgundy. ‘You are the High Princess’s personal bodyguard. You are not her servant. You are not there to do as she says. You are there to protect her, no matter if she travels to the end of the world. It is your life. You know this.’
Slowly Anna nodded. She knew it more acutely than she knew anything else. It was this purpose that shaped her life. She loved Amara with everything she possessed, and would rather die than let harm come to the princess. But—there were other things her heart yearned for. She wanted more. A path of her own, not shaped by another’s life. And passions of her own.
‘Do you ... do you see me as a bodyguard?’ she asked, her voice quivering. ‘I mean, only a bodyguard. Is that what I am to you? A student to train?’
He looked at her, his expression unreadable. ‘What else?’
Anna turned away from him abruptly. Her fists clenched and her eyes squeezed shut in shame. She was
a fool. She knew her place. He taught her to be strong and powerful and fast. Her taught her the skills she needed. That was all.
Without warning she drew her sword and spun to attack him. He was ready, as always, alert and frighteningly quick. He blocked her blows with his own sword, fighting back with the skill she did not understand. Sometimes he was so unreachable, so cold, he didn’t even seem human to her.
He disarmed her quickly enough. ‘See?’ he said. ‘You grow slow. And you are emotional. Why?’
Normally she would have lied. She would have taken control of her emotions like the professional she was. But today was different. She was thinking of the words of her princess, her desire to leave, and Locke’s decree that Anna would follow. She was thinking of how, very soon, she might have to say goodbye to him. If she ever wanted to shape an identity of her own, she had to start telling the truth.
‘Are you a human man, Locke?’ she asked softly, taking a step towards him.
His frown deepened. ‘You know I am.’
‘Then why do you have no feelings, no desires? Why do you live out here on your own? Humans need contact with other humans.’
She took another step towards him.
‘I don’t understand the necessity of these questions.’
Anna felt something inside her shift. She’d come full circle—she had tried to be like him, but she could do it no longer.
‘It’s necessary for me to know who I am to you. I need to know how you feel about me.’
He stood looking at her for a very long time. She waited, her heart in her mouth. Finally, slowly, he stepped forward and took her hands within his own.
Her skin tingled. He’d never once touched her like this.
‘Anna,’ Locke said softly. ‘You are very young. You complicate things. In my heart there is only one thing. You. I thought that was clear, I thought you must know—it is why I have devoted my life to teaching you, when all I wanted before was solitude.’
Her breathing quickened. She wanted to put her arms around him.
But he said, ‘It is simple. I am yours, and I always will be. There doesn’t need to be anything else. Your emotions are awkward and confused. But one day you will realise that this is all we need. That everything is simple and perfect the way it is.’
She looked at him, at the darkness in his eyes. It encircled her, and she realised something. This was all he needed. Just to be near her. He was who he was, and she couldn’t change that about him. She couldn’t change the core of him. His devotion should be enough.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t nearly enough.
From high atop the roof of the palace, Luca watched the sun set, the brilliant wash of purple that came from the joining of the twin moons.
He often needed solitude these days, but far more so when he was given a new assignment.
Everyone knew about what Vezzet had done. Luca would have no trouble killing him. For every person who had been affected by the battle. For Anna, who’d had her innocence stolen by him.
Luca was to enter the castle and kill Vezzet. It was as simple as that. And yet—it was frighteningly far from simple. The trip to Karangul from the docks in Cynis would take three days. He would have to travel on horseback through Torr.
‘You might not make it out alive,’ Accolon had said, a little naively in Luca’s opinion—what kind of assassin has a life expectancy past a job like this? And what, really, did Luca have to live for? Jane was gone. Ria was gone, perhaps not as far, but certainly out of his reach. He could not get back to Earth, and even if he could, he didn’t know how he could possibly return to his old life. He had become an
assassin.
His heart was dark.
‘Luca!’ he heard from somewhere below him.
I’m on the roof,
he sent. Jack, Mia, Anna and Harry were standing on the balcony of the floor below him.
‘What on earth are you doing up there? And
how
did you get up there?’ Mia yelled.
Luca rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. He made sure he had a good foothold, and then slid effortlessly to the edge of the roof. He could see them now, straining their necks to see where he was.
‘How are you going to get down?’ Anna called.
Luca flipped his legs over the edge and hung onto the roof with his hands. He heard Mia squeal, but paid no attention. Quickly he swung his legs sideways at a small tree protruding from the wall. Then he let go and propelled his body forward, reaching out to grasp a branch. He shimmied down the trunk to stand in front of his four annoyed friends.
‘I hate it when you do things like that,’ Anna muttered.
Jack nodded. ‘Yes, it makes me feel very inadequate.’
‘I have to go,’ Luca said.
‘Go where?’ Harry asked.
‘To Cynis Witron for a week or so.’
‘Why?’ Jack and Mia chorused.
‘Accolon wants someone there for a progress meeting with Cornelius.’
‘Why do
you
have to go?’ Jack persisted
Luca shrugged. Jack and Mia were exactly what he used to be before this whole mess started. They’d yet to see anyone get hurt, had yet to experience death and killing and real, true fear. It wouldn’t be long before they understood. They couldn’t live in a world as harsh as this without changing.
‘I work for him. He trusts me.’
‘Oh. Can we come?’ Jack asked.
‘No. I’m going to pack. I’ll be leaving at first light.’ Luca disappeared into the shadows so quickly it was as if he’d never been there at all.
‘Wow,’ Jack muttered. ‘Wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of that guy.’ Jack thought for a moment, then followed Luca.
‘Where are you going?’ Mia asked quickly.
‘I just want to try and talk to him.’
‘Good luck,’ Anna mumbled.
Luca was quick. Jack didn’t catch him until he’d made it back to his room.
‘What are you doing here?’ Luca asked so harshly that Jack was momentarily shocked. His expression must have reached some distant place inside Luca, because he sighed, closing his eyes.
‘Sorry, man. Are you okay? Do you need something?’
‘I just wanted to talk to you.’ Jack thought about his nightmares. ‘Have you ever been touched by a Valkyrie?’ he asked.
‘No. Why?’
Jack sighed. It would have been an understandable reason for Luca to be acting so strangely—the nightmares were enough to change anyone.
‘Never mind. I was just wondering.’
‘Have you, Jack?’ Luca asked urgently, taking a step towards his friend.
Jack shook his head quickly. ‘No, no, I’m fine. I promise.’ Searching for the easiness they’d had in their own world, he said, ‘So you’re working for the king. What are you doing, exactly?’
‘Nothing that you need to worry about, Jack,’ Luca said, not meeting the boy’s eyes. ‘It’s ... complicated.’
‘Well I’m not stupid, Luc. Try me.’
Luca folded his arms. ‘Have you been told about the slave trade?’
‘No.’
‘There are a group of slave traders who are stealing men, women and even children and selling them in
a country outside Paragor. I’m working for Accolon, trying to find out who is responsible.’
‘Wow. That’s ... impressive. I mean, it sounds important, what you’re doing. How did you learn how to do that? I mean, how do you—?’
‘Like I said, it’s complicated,’ Luca said shortly. ‘And you forget—I’ve been here a long time. This may as well be my home.’
Jack nodded slowly. ‘So do you have any clues?’
Luca looked sideways at him, weighing up what to tell.
‘There’s a man—well, the rumour of a man—called the Red Lion. They say he is the ruler of the whole slave trade, and trades in many other realms outside Paragor. Nobody knows if he actually exists.’
‘And you’ve got to find this guy? Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you.’ Jack shook his head.
Luca nodded. There was an awkward silence, and before Jack could think of another question, Luca said softly, ‘Forgive me. I have to pack for the morning. I need time to prepare. Alone.’
‘Okay,’ Jack muttered, casting a final look at his friend. ‘Have a good trip, man,’ he added softly. A look passed over Luca’s face, like the ghost of an expression he used to have before he became a ghost himself.
Ria rode down the row of grapes, inspecting them thoroughly. Once she’d spoken to the pickers and noted that they were on schedule, she rode her horse quickly back to Adon and leant closer to speak to him. ‘We’d best get inside—I think it’s about to snow.’
‘And of course you didn’t bring your warmer cloak.’ He sighed and started to remove his own. As he did, the snow began to fall. ‘Here.’
Adon had stayed a lot longer than she’d expected.
Longer than he had too, she presumed. It had been a whole week since they met. She liked having him around, but she was also confused, trying to figure out what he wanted from her. If she was honest, she couldn’t really work out what she wanted from him either.
‘I have something to talk to you about,’ he said, and Ria frowned.
‘What?’
‘Inside.’ They rode quickly back to the house. She always felt a bit sorry for the workers when it snowed, but the grapes needed to be harvested when they were frozen, and that was what they were being paid for.
They dismounted their horses in the stable and ran into the house, shedding their damp cloaks. Adon went to stoke up the fire, and Ria followed him curiously.
‘I was in town this morning, speaking to the village wise man,’ he said over his shoulder.
She snorted. ‘The man’s a fake.’
‘There are few who are not. But he said that there was a man at the inn wanting to speak to you. So I found the man and told him I was visiting your house and that we would come to the inn tonight to speak with him.’
‘Who was he?’ Ria asked, perplexed.
‘He wouldn’t tell me his name.’ Bayard stroked his chin, frowning. ‘I think for safety’s sake I need to go with you.’
‘Adon, I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’
‘I know. He just seemed ... dangerous. I’d feel better if I came along. But after that I really must take my leave. Vezzet wants me back at the fortress. I’ll be leaving in the morning.’
‘Oh, of course,’ Ria replied and sat down.
He turned and looked at her. ‘I can come back. Sometime.’
She nodded.
Bayard didn’t say anything for another long moment. ‘I’m glad to have met you.’
‘Me too,’ she replied awkwardly. She realised she didn’t really want him to leave, but knew there was nothing she could do about it.
At sundown, Ria pinned her hair up, and pulled on a simple blue dress. Then, because Adon was watching her, she put on her heavy cloak with a flash of a smile, and then left for the inn.
The tavern was dark and quiet. Luca sat in the far corner, well disguised in the gloom, which was good—he knew he looked terrible. When he’d looked in the mirror that morning, something he mostly tried to avoid these days, he had never seen a gaze that appeared so hollow and frightening. His hands were still as adept and agile as always, but were now thin and covered with calluses.
He sat silently, cracking his knuckles. He had been at the bar doing the same thing when the barmaid had finally given him a sideways look and said, ‘Stop that—you’re starting to bother me.’ He’d moved to a table where he could do as he pleased without being interrupted by nosy women.
Back in Amalia, Anna had guessed at his intentions to come to Torr and had said that meeting Ria again would be good for him. Luca wasn’t so sure. The man—Adon Bayard, he’d said his name was—had been very familiar about Ria. It only confirmed his suspicions when Ria and Bayard entered together, and he took her cloak. His hands brushed against her shoulders and lingered there for a moment. It seemed intimate.
A moment later Luca forgot about the man, his eyes drawn instead to Ria. She was the same, and yet not. Her skin glowed, and she looked more feminine than he had ever seen her. She had lost a little too much weight,
but her body looked toned nonetheless, as though she’d been doing a great deal of physical labour.
Luca felt a dull ache in his chest and looked down at his hands. He didn’t want to see Ria anymore. She was so happy, and it gladdened him, but it just confirmed his dread that she didn’t need him or think about him, that she didn’t love him anymore. He didn’t want her to see what a mess he’d become.
Bayard saw him first and pointed. Ria looked curiously at him, but Luca’s face remained hidden under his hood. They came closer. Luca felt his heart beat faster.
They stopped at his table and looked at him expectantly. Luca realised belatedly that this was supposed to be when he revealed himself. He had a strong urge to just leave the hood on and run. Slowly, reluctantly, he drew it back and looked at Ria.
She blinked, once, twice. All the colour drained from her face. She took a tiny, almost imperceptible step back, and Luca winced slightly.
There was a silence as they stared at each other, searching, remembering.
‘Hello,’ he said.
‘He ... hello,’ she replied, her voice shaky. Her glance fell to the floor. ‘Why are you ... what are you—gods, I’m sorry, this is Adon Bayard—’
‘We’ve met,’ Luca said, trying to smile but sure the expression came out as more of an ugly grimace.
‘Okay. Ah...’ She was flustered, but then her eyes narrowed. ‘What are you doing here, Luca?’ she asked.
He took a breath. ‘I’m working, actually. But since I’m passing through, I wanted to say hello.’
She frowned. ‘Right. How silly of me. How long will you be staying then?’
‘No more than a few nights.’
Ria hesitated, and glanced at Bayard who was
watching the two of them closely, his arms folded. ‘You’ll want to come over for a meal then,’ she said abruptly.
Luca’s eyebrows rose. ‘I will?’
‘That’s what I just asked you,’ she snapped.
He couldn’t help but smile a little crookedly, his lips curling in a way that was no longer very attractive. ‘All right. Thank you, that would be lovely. If you’re sure...?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be sure?’ she asked, and seemed to be waiting for an answer.
Luca shrugged, looking at Bayard.
‘Captain Adon Bayard is leaving in the morning for Karangul,’ Ria said stiffly.
Luca watched as the Captain’s face closed over. He squared his shoulders and levelled his gaze at Luca. The man was very tall and well-built, with a red beard. Luca could see that his left bicep was slightly more defined, meaning he was left-handed. He could handle a sword well, judging by the callouses on his forearm and palms, and the way he stood, with his hands loosely encircling each other behind his back, meant that he had been trained by the Elves in unarmed combat. Underneath his unkempt red hair, Bayard’s eyes were a piercing blue, and at that moment were gazing with a fierce and sudden realisation of who this cloaked man must be. He looked angry, but also very wary.
Luca tried to give his most honest, open expression, though it was one he hadn’t used for some time. ‘I will be all the sorrier for not having been able to get to know you, Captain.’
Adon Bayard nodded politely, never taking his eyes from Luca. ‘As I you.’
‘We will take our leave,’ Ria said shortly. ‘I will see you tomorrow evening. I live at the vineyard—it’s not hard to find.’
Luca nodded. His eyes met Ria’s, and suddenly he felt less awkward and worried. He smiled, a real smile, and he said, his voice warm, ‘You look beautiful. And you seem well. I’m truly glad for you.’
Ria blinked, startled. After a moment she nodded and turned quickly for the door.
Luca looked at Bayard. The man seemed pleased to be leaving. He gazed appraisingly at Luca, then turned and followed Ria. It was not difficult to see the symmetry between them—the way they moved complimented each other, and watching it, Luca thought that his heart might be breaking for the third time.
He could remember the other times clearly. Once with Jane in her home on Earth, after having seen just how hard her life there was. Once on the day of a war, watching as this woman he loved slipped away from him.
Luca went outside. It was cold, and his cloak was far too light. In Amalia, he’d known that his detachment from his friends was obvious. He’d known they worried about him, that they were hurt by the distance he made sure was between them. Usually he felt bad about that. But right then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything in the world except that she loved someone else.
It wasn’t a conscious decision he had made to be different. It was just that he couldn’t see through the darkness anymore. He had thought, once, that if he could find the courage to come here and see her, that maybe she would help him to find his way again. But he had been very wrong. Now, all he felt was more lost.