‘She must be tormented by what he did to you.’
‘More so, I think, because she still loves him. I think he could do just about anything and she’d still love him.’
Jane let out a breath. Finally, softly, she said, ‘Leostrial was strong. He was
so
strong. Focused and intent, but he didn’t lack humanity—I could see that at the end.’
‘I only met him once, just before the battle, but he seemed cunning, well-educated,’ Fern offered.
‘You don’t have to honey-coat this,’ Altor interrupted roughly, his voice taking on a new timbre. ‘I want to know what you really thought.’ For the first time he seemed scared and very young. Jane didn’t know what to say. Something inside her sensed that this moment was important for him, that they had to tread carefully.
‘The truth,’ he whispered.
‘We hated him, Al,’ Fern said gently. ‘He was our enemy. But ... neither of us
knew
him. I can’t give you anything you haven’t already heard.’
The young prince frowned. And then something in him changed. A shadow passed over him, through his heart. His face hardened, and he turned away from them.
The Black Prince, people called him. Jane hadn’t quite understood why until now. Until seeing how hollow, how frighteningly angry Altor could be.
Wordlessly he climbed from the pool.
Quickly they followed him, Jane’s heart thumping, thinking that maybe they’d made a mistake in telling him the truth.
But he seemed more like himself when the three of them sat down together once more. He seemed to be trying. And that was when Jane knew that the two of them were probably the closest friends he’d ever had, and that they had to be there for him.
The three of them were connected in a way that neither of the boys realised yet. More deeply than they could understand that day.
Disappointment was not an emotion he was used to. Loneliness, anger—yes. Never disappointment. But Altor would have preferred to have experienced disappointment every day of his life if it could have prepared him for what he felt that day.
It came from guilt and love—the two combined, for he’d found a true friend in Fern—someone he had always longed to meet, and had idolised his whole life. Altor didn’t really understand the extent of his fondness. He had only known him a matter of days, but somehow he knew that he loved Fern.
But then there was Jane, and the fact that he
actually
cared about her. He wanted to talk to her all the time, to just be near her, and this was utterly new to him.
How had he let it happen? How had he managed to form two relationships, when he’d not let himself care about anyone in his whole life? It was a disaster. Now, it seemed, he had changed. Once he had only longed to sate his unease through meaningless distractions; now he had found something to try for. He would be there for both of them, as much as he possibly could in the time that he was granted, simply because they were the only people he’d ever met that could somehow brighten what was inside him. If they needed him—ever—he would be waiting.
The truth was, he was only a boy. And though he would deny it to his very last breath, and the desire would confuse him beyond his capacity for understanding, what he longed for most of all was his father.
They weren’t far from the next town, so without speaking the three of them set off, knowing that something had been forged that day, but not needing to speak about it.
Jane gritted her teeth and sighed as the horse started trotting, jolting her with each step. Altor had thought it would be a great joke to have her paired up with none other than her nemesis, Bridie, and the bloody horse had fought her every step of the way. Altor was riding next to her and, maybe out of a guilt, he reached over to pull on Bridie’s reins, slowing her to a walk.
‘Do you miss your home?’ he asked abruptly.
Jane hesitated. ‘I miss my mum. I’ve got no idea what’s happened to her. That’s what hurts the most, I think. Not knowing...’
The boys were both looking at her intently and she suddenly wished she hadn’t opened her mouth. Luca was the only person who knew about her family, and that was only because he’d arrived at her house during one of her dad’s episodes.
‘Knowing what?’ Altor pressed.
Jane sighed, shrugging. ‘She has it tough. Especially if she’s there on her own. I used to try and help, but now that I’m gone—’
‘What are you talking about, Jane?’ Fern asked, looking closely at her face.
Jane flushed. ‘My dad isn’t a good man. He drinks a lot, and gets kind of ... violent. It’s not a big deal. There’s plenty of families way worse than mine.’
They were staring at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to return their gazes.
‘Did he ever hurt you?’ Altor asked softly.
Jane shrugged. ‘It’s fine,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m not hung up over it so let’s change the subject.’ She risked a glance at Fern. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched hard.
‘Things in Paragor are different,’ she went on quickly. ‘When I was on Earth, things felt differently. Everything is bigger here. I feel as though I lived my whole life in a state of numbness, right up until I came here. Like grey has turned to colours. Everything is intensified.’
She smiled weakly, feeling silly. ‘I must sound like a nut-job. It probably makes no sense at all to you.’
‘You always sound like a “nut-job”, but it makes perfect sense,’ Altor told her.
Jane smiled. ‘Well I also miss phones and fridges, and
microwaves, and proper lights that actually allow you to see things, and movies, and parties and cars.’ She looked at Bridie. ‘I
really
miss cars.’
Altor was smiling, but Fern didn’t seem to be listening anymore. Jane wished she hadn’t told him. The last thing she wanted was pity. ‘Fern,’ she said and waited for him to meet her eyes. ‘Trust me, there are way worse things to be worrying about. It’s fine.’
He considered this. ‘Care not for our own darkness, but that which surrounds those we love.’
Jane felt a rushing sense of recognition as she stared at him, astounded.
‘A famous quote from Amara,’ Altor explained and Jane exhaled—Fern hadn’t remembered it, he just knew the quote like everyone did. But there was something strange about the way he was looking at her.
‘But then,’ Altor went on, ‘she killed herself didn’t she? So I suppose even she wasn’t selfless enough to ignore her own pain forever. Death was better.’
Jane coloured as she clutched the reins. She did not look away from Fern, but realised instead that he was staring at her as though ... well it almost seemed like
he knew.
But that was ridiculous. Shaking her head, she turned to look ahead once more. The rocky road had brought them into a copse of trees and she welcomed the shade gladly.
‘Where were you, Jane?’ Altor asked suddenly. ‘Where did you go in the sky?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said truthfully. ‘I really don’t. Somewhere outside this world. Somewhere I wasn’t myself. Nothing could ever make me go back.’
There was a long silence.
‘I wish I didn’t have to go back,’ Altor said suddenly, surprising them both with how much he seemed to be sharing today.
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘I honestly cannot think of anything worse than having to take up my place on the throne. Being responsible for myself is bad enough without having to worry about an entire country.’
‘But Satine’s queen!’ Jane replied. ‘It’s not like she’s going anywhere. You’ve got plenty of time.’
‘Time?’ he repeated bitterly, his lip curled, making her regret her words.
‘You’re mad,’ Fern said, shaking his head. ‘I’ve been waiting to be king my whole life. My father seems to have a little of my immortality though. Don’t get me wrong,’ he added quickly. ‘I love my father. But he’s not the king he once was. Old age is playing with his mind.’
‘Yes,’ Altor said slowly, ‘But time has no meaning for an immortal prince. What benefit do you think a man could do on the throne when he has only a few years at most, and not enough time to raise any heirs?’
No one replied. It was becoming clear to Jane that she hadn’t realised how bad things really were for Altor.
‘I’m raving,’ he said suddenly, kicking his horse forward. ‘Ignore me.’
‘Don’t worry, we usually do,’ Fern told him.
‘So how many more protectors do we have left in the pack?’ Jane asked, changing the subject.
‘Four.’
‘Is that all? What are we going to do?’
‘It seems to me that the people here should start thinking of a way to protect themselves instead of relying on aid from us,’ Altor murmured.
Jane stared back at him, stunned. ‘Are you serious?’
He shrugged, but he was still looking at her closely, his eyes alight with amusement. ‘We have to fend for ourselves. Why shouldn’t they?’
‘We live in cities with protection, Altor!’ Jane hissed.
‘Those people have no way to fend for themselves! They aren’t spoilt little brats from a royal family!’
Altor smiled.
‘Jane,’ Fern interrupted. ‘He’s teasing you.’
Jane stopped and closed her mouth. ‘This isn’t a game, Altor,’ she snapped. Don’t joke about stuff like that.’
‘You sound like your little red-haired friend.’
‘What?’
‘You know ... the other Stranger.’
‘You mean Mia?’
‘That’s the one!’ He nodded, as if he’d forgotten her name.
‘How do you know what she sounds like?’ Jane asked, unaccountably irritated.
Altor shrugged. ‘She crossed into my arms. I had a little fun teaching her that the world
is
a game.’
Jane pulled her horse to a sudden, painful halt. ‘
What?
’ she hissed, feeling her blood begin to boil. ‘What did you do to her, Altor?’
The Black Prince was looking altogether far too amused. ‘I just taught her to loosen up a bit, that’s all. That boy she seems to be courting is nowhere near good enough for her.’
‘How dare you!’ Jane screamed. She slid off the horse and punched his leg as hard as she could. Altor winced and dismounted to face her. Jane could barely control herself; the idea that he had somehow hurt one of her friends—or two of them—
‘You bastard! How could you do that?’
Fern slid from his horse and quickly restrained her.
‘She’s fine, Jane,’ Altor said finally.
Jane stopped, breathing heavily, and their eyes locked. Fern was still holding her by the arms.
‘If you ever hurt one of my friends again,’ she said
softly, her tone flat and deadly, ‘you and I are through. Do you understand me?’
Altor gave a small nod, something in his eyes softening slightly.
Jane shrugged Fern away and stalked back to her horse, pulling herself up, not at all gracefully. ‘You set out to hurt other people, Altor, because you find it amusing,’ she snapped. ‘But one of these days you’re going to see your actions in a new light, and you’re going to loathe yourself for it.’
The boys mounted their horses once more, and silently, the three of them began riding again. Time passed, and Jane felt her anger melt away. Mia had seemed fine when they’d spoken, so there was probably nothing to get worked up over. She just hated to think of the girl’s innocence being taken advantage of by someone as dangerous as Altor.
Suddenly it was cold on the plain. Jane pulled her cloak out of the pack behind her and drew it around herself, struggling to do so while still managing the stupid horse.
Fern reached over to control Bridie. Their eyes met, and Jane burst into laughter at his exasperated expression. It was in that moment that she felt a sudden slice of noise in her mind.
Jane? Are you there?
Anna’s voice was hysterical, making the contact between their minds painful.
What’s wrong?
she asked quickly, wincing at the ache in her head.
Something’s happened, Jane...
What?
It’s Luca—there’s something wrong with him. He ... he’s-...
‘Anna? What’s happened?’ Jane yelled, panic rising in her gut. The boys had stopped riding and were staring
at her as if she’d gone mad. She realised she’d said the words out loud and closed her mouth, speaking only in her mind.
Calm down and tell me what’s wrong,
she said firmly as she felt Anna burst into tears.
He’s been tortured—
And that was all Jane heard, for she was riding as fast as she could. God, she thought, not Luca.
Not Luca.
She had known the instant she made contact with him that something had happened to his mind. He was tormented. But she hadn’t done a thing about it, worrying only about her own problems. And now it might be too late.
Her best friend, and it might be too late.
Harry had taught himself to sleep during the day. It was the sensible thing to do when nights were spent battling foes in the sky. He’d been prepared for the violence, but not for the exhaustion that set in after every night. He had not been touched by a Valkyrie, but his dreams were far from normal. Dark, bloody wings, and screaming so loud it deafened him. Harry knew it shouldn’t be possible for him to hear angel’s screams; human ears should be broken by them. And yet he heard them, every night. That afternoon, as he slept through his last hours of rest before taking up his position in the sight-room, a woman walked in his dreams with him, casting a light over the winged creatures that surrounded him, making them disappear.
She was tall, and more beautiful than any creature he’d ever seen, with eyes that glimmered like diamonds and an unearthly mist that floated around her glowing body.
The sudden absence of chaos was like a tidal wave of relief for Harry.
‘What are they?’ he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘I know they aren’t Valkyries.’
The woman tilted her head. ‘Archangels,’ she answered finally, confirming his fears. ‘Dark and violent warriors of vengeance.’
‘Why do I see them?’
‘Because your fate, Harry, and the fate of your five friends, is tied irrevocably to the creatures.’
He shivered, feeling a deep sense of dread.
‘But that’s not why I am here,’ the woman said.
‘You have forgotten, Harry. Forgotten everything that once meant so much to you.’