Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) (21 page)

“The rest of the journey will be much easier. The weather will warm the further northeast we travel,” he said. “Following the coastline will take us straight to Port Felar.”

“How long will it take us to get there?”

“Two days, maybe three.” Sliding off his horse, his hand lingered against the mare’s neck, fingers absently stroking through the coarse braid of her black hair as he stared out at the raging sea and watched the ice churn against its fury. “We’ll set up camp back there,” he gestured away from the waterline. “The tide comes in well past where I stand.”

“Wow,” she marveled.

Bren glanced over and watched her dismount. She took a moment to get her bearings, her legs wobbling under the strain of the long road at their backs. Her wide eyes never left the waves breaking and frothing several yards from where they stood.

She’d never seen the sea before, only in paintings and the old books lining the palace library shelves. Head tilted, the mussed braid of her long, auburn hair rustling in the breeze, she wore an expression of wonder so precious, he committed the moment to memory.

“I’ve never seen such beauty. Never imagined in my wildest dreams…”

A moment of amazement, one of many, and the fool meant to share her life with her wasn’t even there to cherish the look she wore.

How could someone so stupid be so smooth? It boggled Bren’s mind whenever he tried to understand what she would eventually see in the U’lfer, the thought making him feel petty and stupid. Much as he liked to tell himself he knew her heart, he knew almost nothing about her.

“I don’t know why anyone thought we’d catch a ship from here. Not many come in this far.”

“Because of the ice?”

“We’ll be lucky if we see a single skiff before we reach the port.”

“How lucky would we have to be?”

“Very lucky,” he laughed, “and by that time we’ll be there, and won’t need transport. The caverns that line the coast are rich with valuable ore and minerals. Sometimes miners navigate the dangerous waters with smaller faerings, but they wouldn’t be large enough to transport passengers, especially not with horses. And besides, those mines are just as easily accessed by land without risk to the ships.”

“Logren said the border is heavily guarded in Port Felar,” Lorelei remembered.

“Because of the surrounding mines,” Bren nodded, “and the number of ships making port there. Getting around the guards and into the city would not be a simple task, especially if Aelfric’s got his men searching for you, but we will skirt around Port Felar and send word to the sentinels of Nua Duaan.”

She shuddered quietly at the thought. “Do you think he does?” she wondered aloud. “Have men searching for me?”

“It is likely.”

The sound of her terrified swallow barely reached his ears, but she said not another word about it. “Let’s set up camp,” she decided. “I’d like to walk down to the water’s edge and take it all in before the sun starts to go down.”

They were already developing a routine of sorts, and it didn’t take the two of them long to lay out the encampment. He complained about the U’lfer taking off every time they were preparing to stop for the day, but he was actually convinced Finn would only get in the way. After both tents were pitched and stable, he shooed her away, promising to take care of the fire and insisting she make her way down to the shore.

“Are you sure?” she tilted her head, the loose auburn strands of hair framing her face jostling against her chin as they fell. “I don’t mind finishing.”

“I’m positive,” he assured her with a slow smile. “There’s not much more to do, and it won’t be long before the tides start to rise.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he laughed. “Would you like me to come with you?”

“You don’t have to.”

But I want to
, he thought. To stand beside her as she took in the sea for the first time, the glory of that moment lighting her face with wonder and amazement.

“It will be nice to have a walk by myself,” she went on. “I haven’t had many moments to myself these last few weeks.”

“As you wish,” he conceded, calling for her to be careful when she started the short trek toward the water’s edge.

Brendolowyn watched her. Even after days of wearisome travel, she was stunning to behold. For a woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders, her smile never seemed to fade, even when the weather and the road they traveled was less than kind.

How long would it take for that weight to affect her, before her smile became a rare and precious thing to behold?

As she walked, she unpinned the braid she wore in her hair and raked her fingers through the tangles until it all flew free around her head like an unruly crown of flaming waves caught in the lines of the midday sun streaming through the clouds. The breeze whipped it into her face, her arm constantly reaching up to brush and tuck it away behind her ears, and though she was too far for him to hear, he swore he heard her laughing into the wind just before she broke into a run that carried her all the way to the edge of the sea.

He should keep an eye on her, he thought, make sure she didn’t come to any harm on her own, but then Hrafn dove in to fly behind her, assurance from his faithful friend he would keep watch over her so Bren could rest.

He
was
weary.

He only had cause to use his magic to raise and lower the barrier each night and occasionally start the fire, but constant travel taxed his energies. It probably didn’t help that he lay awake long through each night listening to the object of his desire talk to her mate. If they kept on as they were, it wouldn’t be long before she gave into the bond between them, strengthening its permanence and blocking Brendolowyn out forever. The choice would only remain hers until she accepted Finn as her mate, after that there was no turning back, no chance for him to swoop in and claim her as he wanted so badly to do.

She is not yours to claim
, he heard the old woman’s voice in the back of his mind.

But the scolding tone of her admonition didn’t make him long for her any less.

Scanning the camp, he still had not started the fire, and though he longed for its warmth, he just needed a moment to relax and think. He drew his hood up over his head, pulling it down to block the light of the fading sun from his eyes, which were closed, and then he drew a deep breath in through his nose.

Another followed and he exhaled, then another, and another. He attuned his breathing to the distant sound of the waves against the shore. Each one carried him further and further from the disturbance of his own thoughts, of the powerful longing he could not give into no matter how much he wanted to.

Being near her, feeling her presence, hearing her laughter, her voice—as wonderful as it was, it was also toxic. Fuel for an unquenchable fire.

Every breath cleansed him, alleviated the longing and lessened the strain of his own emotions so he could focus on his true path. He was only there to help her with her task, to guide and protect her from enemies and her own sorrow. He made a promise, one the old seer swore he’d made to her lifetime after lifetime after lifetime; this time he would keep his promise no matter how much it hurt him to reach a hand out and save the U’lfer he still did not believe deserved Lorelei’s heart.

Every time he exhaled, the breath carried him away from himself, allowing his body and mind to rest.

With rest came the peaceful imagery of his homeland, of the warm sands of his village, the laughter of the children as they ran splashing into the water lapping at the land. He could almost hear the tinkling shell chimes hanging from the balcony of his mother’s home, smell the cleanness of the air and feel the heat of the summer sun baking his bare skin as he wiggled his toes in the sand.

There were days he wondered what might have become of him if he’d never left Til Harethi. What kind of man would he be without the scars he earned after walking away from all he’d ever known to find his father? A wasted trip, his mother called it before he left. She didn’t understand the constant calling of his father’s blood inside his veins, the need to wander and roam and search for things which could never be found.

“Do you think your father has found what he was looking for, Brendolowyn?” she asked him in her final pleading, her long, dark eyes flashing indigo in the sunlight warming his back. “If he is still out there, he will never keep still. Do you really think you will find him?”

“I will wander forever if I have to,” he said, lifting his hand to touch her face one last time. His words broke her heart. She struggled against the shedding of her own tears, but one slipped from her lashes and splashed down the back of his hand. “But wherever I go, whatever I do, I will make you proud, Mamiir.”

The peacefulness of his thoughts shifted, his mind turning dark, his heartbeat rising as the painful images of the days that followed raced through him. The last promise he made to his mother was broken just a few miles outside their village, where he was captured by a band of orc traders hunting elven slaves to sell across the sea in the desert markets of Caratoros. He wasn’t the only Alvarii taken that day. There’d been three others. Two strong men, twin brothers from the next village over, and a young girl who’d only just breached the cusp of womanhood.

He didn’t remember any of their names, but he could still see their faces. All four of them purchased by the same master and thrown into the magical arena beneath his banners. From the cages below the stands, Brendolowyn watched all three of them go down in their first matches.

What was the girl’s name? Helellia? Hannalenwei? Inexperienced, her confidence with magic unestablished. She’d been out gathering shells to make a bracelet for her beloved. Harinah? Himmilene? She had eyes the color of a summer sky. Sometimes at night her screams still haunted his dreams.

Shrill, frantic, piercing…

Brendolowyn snapped from his meditation, the images and feelings that went with them disappearing, all except for the dread. The screaming didn’t dissipate. It clawed the air, nearly blocking out the sound of Hrafn’s bellowing call from the beach. In a tangle of robes and panic he leaped from where he sat and darted in the direction of those screams.

He searched the beach for their source, his heart racing madly in his chest when he glimpsed her struggling between three dark figures. One of them picked her up and she raised her feet, kicking and screaming in fury, her whole body jerking and bucking against her attacker. Her foot connected with the wide jaw of the orc standing in front of her, and Bren felt his whole body freeze with panic.

He just stood there, dumbfounded, trembling as memory mixed with reality and Lorelei’s terrified shrieks carved through him. He watched her legs writhing, body hitching as she kicked and flailed, twisted and worked against her captor’s grip. The scene was so familiar, so startling he nearly forgot where he was, who he was, the things he was capable of.

Hethiria. The girl’s name was Hethiria. And he hadn’t been able to save her.

And then he caught sight of the black wolf from the corner of his eye and his mind returned to action. Summoning fire from the elements around him, he gathered and shaped it between his hands until he had a ball. He released it as he ran toward her, aiming at the furthest orc from Lorelei and startling the other two. He was already gathering another fireball when the first one struck home, lighting skin and burning hair as the target began to flap its arms and dance around.

His heart thumped guiltily inside his chest. How long was he suspended in that meditative state, held fast by memory’s grip? He should have been watching her, should have accompanied her to the water’s edge, even though she’d asked him not to. He never should have let her stray more than a hand’s reach from his side. He’d sworn to protect her, but so had Finn, and the beast came through more readily than Bren.

The black wolf broad-sided him, the hard edge of his massive shoulder knocking into the mage and sending him sprawling across the pebbled, icy sand. The air in his lungs seized, puffing between his lips painfully as he pushed up onto his hands and watched the scene unfold.

The wolf moved quickly, driving into unexpected battle with a roar so brutal it could have frightened the sea from the shore. The thing that held Lorelei dropped her in surprise and began backing away in a panic. Its large hands held out before it, shaking in protest, the beast heard nothing beyond the terror of its mate. Finn charged, barreling forward and connecting with his enemy in a flurry of tearing claws. He grabbed the orc by the shoulders, bashed his head forward in a stunning crack against his enemy’s skull, then he tore the arms from its body in a single wrench. Blood sprayed in wild arches, a bellowing scream of rage and horror rising above the waves. The orc Bren struck with the fireball rolled around on the ground screaming and trying to put out the flames sizzling its thick skin.

The mage gathered his wits, shook the stars from his head and pushed off to run toward Lorelei. He watched as he ran, the third of her attackers taking off in a panicked run up the northern line of the coast, but the wolf was faster. Driving on all fours in a blur of black fur tinged in ruby specks, he pounced his prey from behind and sent the massive warrior sprawling face-first into the sands. It skidded several feet, pinned beneath the wolf and shrieking mercy beneath the tear of razor-sharp claws.

The wolf knew not the meaning of the word mercy. They’d attacked his mate, and he would not stop until every last one of them was dead.

Kneeling beside Lorelei, he reached out to her and gripped her hand, drawing her into his arms. She buried her face into his shoulder, clutching the fabric of his robe as she sobbed deep, gulping breaths of dread mixed with relief. The sound was lost in the screams of the burnt thing writhing on the ground just feet away, making desperate attempt toward the water to stop the searing of its own skin baking beneath its flaming armor.

Brendolowyn stared at the smoldering creature, eyes squinting until they focused on the sizzling features.