Return to Caer Lon (25 page)

Derek pushed into the main tunnel. After the darkness, the soft light assaulted her dilated eyes. Protecting his
eyes
with one arm, the young man refused to slow down until he reached the place where they had parted and he pushed her into the wall, covering her body with his. Thunder rolled, alarmingly close
. S
he ducked before him instinctively.

William
's
bones had snapped with the exact same thud
that
a boulder made behind them. S
o easily
;
a twist of her wrist had been enough
.
E
njoyable, really... Forgetting about danger, Sacha fought to free herself from his grasp. Derek jammed her head back into his chest.

“Stay down!”

Sacha hiccupped.

“Your father… Please Derek, forgive me, I-”

The grip on her forearms hardened, bringing tears to her eyes, unless
it was
the guilt.
..

“What are you talking about?”

The roll
ing
of falling rock drained away. Sacha muffled a sob before she uttered the horrible truth.

“I killed him.”

Derek stepped back. Seeing the alarm and the shame in her eyes, he released her arms to take her face in his hands, forcing her gaze up. He said firmly: “My father died fifteen years ago, Sacha. Wolfryth murdered him
,
not you.”

Tears wet her cheeks.

“But I saw-”

She bit her tongue, eyes darting away.

“Sacha look at me.”

She obeyed, and let herself drown in the cobalt stare.

“You didn’t kill anyone. It was
just
another nightmare.”

The strength and the gentleness she read in his gaze brought more tears to her eyes
. S
he swallowed them back, for him. Derek watched her face carefully, before he let his hands down her arms, and winked.

“Please don’t read too much into this, but I should have listened to you about this tunnel.”

Sacha snivelled. Her timid smile reassured him.

“Let’s avoid dark entrances in the near future
,
then
.”

Chapter 26

Everything
hurt, Elwyn reali
z
ed. His back, his legs, his head, every part of his body yanked in pain. He feared he would start screaming aloud if he dared to move a lash. All in all, nothing really different compared to the past few days… Except maybe
that
his mind was crystal clear, instead of fuzzy. Yes, he remembered every single minute, from the moment he had called on powers he didn’t even know he possessed to the spike piercing his stomach.

He rubbed the spot tentatively but took off his hand in the same movement with a loud
groan
.
Come to t
hink
of it, the pain was awfully different compared to the past few days, about a thousand times different.

Elwyn carefully pro
pp
ed his back against the wall, panting and hissing. A squeak objected to his efforts, immediately followed by the rush of claws on stone.

“I wish I could weasel my way out as you do…
Ow…”

The rat didn’t bother to answer. Elwyn sighed.

He remembered everything
;
yet some parts of Fillin’s spitting
,
he wished he could forget. Sacha was coming for him. She shouldn’t. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Wolfryth wanted from h
is
sister, but she had to stay away. Nothing was more important than that.

“Please Sacha, for once in your life, don’t rescue me…”

oOo

“Do you remember him?”

Surprised, Derek looked up to the woman cringing against the wall some feet away from him. They never brought up the topic of their dead parents, her mother and his father. In fact, before they started on this journey together, they
had
rarely exchange
d
more than ten words at a time, their sporadic attempts at conversation
generally
ending with one of them storming out.

She did not sound annoyed or angry now. Derek looked away, scratching the ground with the heel of his boot silently.

“My mother smelt of roses. Father says she used to sing ballads to lull us to sleep, but I remember only the roses.”

Glancing at her, Derek noticed she had circled her knees with her arms, and pressed her cheek on the cradle, her favo
u
rite position lately. It made her look small, and fragile; approachable. It stirred something inside him, a need to protect and soothe, somehow deeper than the longing, or was
that
a part of it?

“Is that why you favo
u
r that scent? The roses?”

The subtle perfume always floated around her in Haven. Even here, after days of doubtful commodities, sleeping in a hayloft and a forced
,
fully-
clothed
bath in a muddy pond, he could still smell the roses when he leaned closer.

“I think so. Do you want some water?”

Derek shook his head. The abrupt change of topic was as unsettling as her choice of conversation in the first place. Was she shocked
that
he noticed her perfume? Happy? Unconcerned? Anyway, he was glad she changed
the subject
. He really didn’t want to talk about his father
. At the same time,
he needed her to understand. The words were out before Derek even realized he was speaking.

“It still pains my mother to talk about him. And Geraint never really sa
ys
anything, except that he was a great king and a good man.”

“You look very much like him.”

Derek chocked on his breath and coughed. She couldn’t possibly know that. His mother had said so, once, after he had presented her with a small bottle of perfume he had found in the low-town market. But Sacha couldn’t know what his father looked like. How he carried himself. How he fought. How he died…

She claimed she had seen his death. He didn’t want to know. William Pendragon was dead, murdered by an evil man, and it was enough. She said she had lived it; maybe she had. It would mean her powers were increasing, this strange place acting like a magical reflector or something akin. Or it meant the threat was greater than they both imagined…

Derek fidgeted uncomfortably. Her serious stare caressed his face, yet he refused the eye contact. Talking to her seemed easy, all a sudden. Or at least
,
it was easier than letting her read in his gaze the path his thoughts were taking.

“Geraint is probably the closest thing I ever
had to
a father.”

She considered his remark for a moment
,
then laughed. The pearl of gaiety chimed in the silence of stone, warming the air around them.

“What a horrible thought.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The young man glowered. Had she coerced him to visit places of his soul he voluntarily ignored
,
only to mock him? It would be…
e
xactly like her; the former her. The one she was back in Haven, when they disregarded each other; the one she was, well… before.

Derek re
turned
his attention to Sacha, brows
knitted
.

“…
Not what
I meant. I have enough
with
looking after Elwyn and Sebastian. I have no wish to include you in my
list of brothers
.”

“Sebastian is your cousin, not your brother.” Derek corrected her out of habit “And last time I checked, you were hitting Elwyn on the head with his own socks. It is a strange way to look after him.”

“He was refusing to listen to me.”

The figurative cloud above his head evaporated and Derek grinned. The conversation was turning into their usual bantering, and perhaps he was more comfortable with that, after all.

“I didn’t listen to you about the tunnel
, either
.”

Among other things.

“Does it mean you want me to hit you with socks?”

She managed to remain absolutely serious despite the silliness of her question. The ghost of a smile haunted her lips. Derek was nearly tempted to search their pack for some, just to see if she would.

“Wouldn’t you like it…”

Her mouth twitched when she laughed and Derek found himself unable to look elsewhere but at the soft curve of her mouth. After a moment, he succeeded in glancing up into her eyes. Jade danced in mischief
. He
cleared his throat, vaguely embarrassed to have been caught staring.

“We’ll stay here for a little while. I will take the first watch. You should take some rest.”

The husk in his voice made him shift uncomfortably. Sacha jerked up, muffling a yawn.

“I’ll do it. I fear we will need your skills more than mine in here.”

Her voice sounded uncertain, teasing gone. Derek wondered if she was afraid to have more nightmares. He bowed his head and moved to rest with his legs between her and the empty space in front of her.

“Wake me up when you are tired.”

He suspected she would not obey. But it felt the right thing to say when she nodded firmly and smiled at him. He lov-
...
H
e liked her smile.

oOo

“But he tried to kill me!”

Unimpressed by the shrill
ness
in his daughter’s voice, Wolfryth continued eating.

“Yes. Hadn’t I forbidden you to see him again? Maybe next time you will obey.”

Fillin stamped her foot.

“But father-“

“I told you, Elwyn has his utility. When I
have what I want, I’ll get rid of him. Not sooner.”

The blonde huffed.

“Yes, yes, I know, the blood of the Dragon unleashes a source of immense power. Well
,
I don’t care! Elwyn attacked me and I want him punished!”

His fork slammed back on
to
the table.

“Enough! You’re immature and impatient, which is exactly why I do not teach you magic. Now leave me.”

The blonde pulled on her hair angrily. This was so unfair! What Elwyn had done was unforgiveable. He had tried to KILL her! After all she had done for him! She had tended to him despite her father’s reluctance. She had befriended him and granted him an opportunity to share his knowledge! He wasn’t even that good at teaching
,
but she bore it! And he was a terrible kisser.
T
his horrible ungrateful disgusting
being
had tried to hurt her! And her father implied
that
it was her fault
?
!

Fillin’s lips pursed in a thin line of anger. Well, they’d see. No one assaulted her and got away with it. Her father could have Derek Pendragon to play with
,
for all she cared. The Pendragon wasn’t coming alone. She was going to punish Elwyn by taking what he cared
about
the most
-
his darling little sister.

oOo

She had never noticed how unsettling it was, not to know what part of the day it was. Day, night, it was all the same lost deep inside the mountain
,
and her brain buzzed, trying to get a grip on an impossible time
frame. In the surreal light pouring from the rock, they had invented their own time
frame
s
: walk, rest, walk, rest. The lack of structure apparently didn’t bother her companion, as Derek had dozed off as soon as he had closed his eyes
,
or so
it seemed
.

Sacha lost her battle against yet another yawn and shook her head to clear it. She had nothing to distract herself. Her fingers itched for something to do. She twisted her neck again, wincing w
hen
it cracked. If only she could focus on something
-
what awaited them once they found their way through the rocky maze, Elwyn, the source of the powerful magic affecting them
;
anything
other
than her dreams
,
or Derek. The dreams transformed her nerves into a tight ball
lodged
in her throat, suffocating. As for the sleeping man by her side…

He did nothing more than tease and stare. But those glances dispersed dandelion’s seeds in her stomach to make her feel… soft. It intrigued and embarrassed her at the same time.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“About what?”

Red crept up her neck to warm her cheeks.

“Nothing!”

Derek straightened up.

“It didn’t sound like nothing. What’s the matter?”

Embarrassment threatened to reduce her to a babbling pool of heated honey at his feet. She lied cheekily.

“My hair. It is tangled and I hate it, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

If he found her vain or shallow, then
so
be it. She hadn’t really asked what he thought when he fixed on her lips like they were some mouth-watering (but forbidden) fruit, had she? Derek’s eyebrows shot up, before he nodded.

“I think I may… Yes.”

He patted his pockets, and pulled out her holly wood comb.

“Here.”

Her hand trembled slightly when she picked it up.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous.”

Derek rubbed his chin with a frown, watching absently as she started untangling the messy black strands.

“I think I can understand.”

The two-day stubble shadowed his jaws and cheeks. He looked older, stronger, almost dangerous… The dandelion seeds were now dancing above her belt with hundreds of butterflies.

“You look different with a beard.”

“Different good or different bad?”

She hesitated. His smirk invited more butterflies to join the circle.

“So there’s something you like about me after all.”

The blue stare sparkled with amusement. Sacha twitched her nose.

“I
have
yet to make up my mind.”

Derek snorted, his glare balancing between
"
I don’t believe a word of it
"
and
"
you’re not funny
."

“We should go.”

Sacha pushed on
to
her feet at once. The prince whipped his opened hand on his thigh before he secured their bag on his shoulder with an exaggerated pull and started toward the crossing once more.