A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series) (22 page)

BOOK: A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series)
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

LIA MARA

By the time night begins to give way to dawn, exhaustion has sunk its claws into all of us. We are given the finest rooms in the finest inn that Blind Hollow has to offer. I have a small room to myself, and a platter of food has been left beside a roaring hearth. The innkeeper brings buckets of warmed water for washing, along with clean clothes and a set of combs for my hair. After days of trudging through the woods, I am glad for the simple blue dress with a laced bodice.

Once I am clean and clothed, though, sleep seems to linger a long way off. I sit before the fire and press a trembling hand to my neck. Noah applied a bandage, but it’s still sore.

No man has ever put a weapon to my throat. Not even when Rhen’s guards captured me.

A soft knock raps at my door, and I jump. For the first time in my life, I regret my lack of guards—my lack of weapons. I’m frozen in place.

A voice calls from the other side, soft in the early-morning silence. “It’s Grey.”

I release a relieved breath and move to open the door. Grey has clearly been offered similar hospitalities. He’s clean-shaven for the first time since we met in Rhen’s castle, and his dark hair is damp and tousled. His trudging clothes have been replaced with fresh dark trousers and a loose knit shirt. He’s kept all his weapons, I see.

I cannot decide which Grey I like more: rugged, with work-roughened hands and shadowed features in the dim light of a campfire, or this Grey, keen and sharp with eyes that see everything.

He seems surprised to find me at the door. “The others are sleeping. I thought you might be as well.”

I shake my head.

He touches a finger to my chin. “You were injured.”

My heart flutters, and I slap a hand over the bandage on my neck. “Hardly.” My voice has gone breathy, both from remembered fear and attraction, and I have to clear my throat.

If he offers to heal it, I will refuse. His exhaustion is so potent I can almost feel it myself.

His hand drops anyway. “Iisak is watching from the roof. After they doubled back once, we suspect the soldiers will return with reinforcements.” He pauses. “We cannot stay here. I will not bring bloodshed upon this town again.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Does this mean you will not sleep?”

“It does.”

I step back and hold open my door. “Do you care to come in?”

He hesitates. “You should rest.”

“So should you. We can be stubborn together.” I move away
from the door to allow him the choice and stop beside the table of food. “The innkeeper has left a carafe of wine.”

He shakes his head. “Wine will have me on the floor.”

I smile and pick up the pitcher of water instead. This might be the most surprising thing I have discovered about him. “Truly?”

He nods and accepts the glass of water. Despite the quiet, his eyes flick to the window, to the doorway.

“You are uneasy,” I say. In a way, it’s reassuring that I’m not the only one.

“Dustan will not allow us to gain a lead. I would ride out now, but the others need to sleep.”

“So do
you
,” I say.

He shrugs and drinks half the glass in one swallow.

“You’re a good leader,” I say.

He makes a face, then shakes his head. His voice is rough and tired. “I am leading no one.”

I drop into one of the chairs by the fire and study him, my eyes wide. “Surely you don’t mean that.”

“Surely I do. Noah and Jacob seek a path home to Disi. They will follow me until I can grant it. Tycho has nowhere else to go. You are returning to your homeland.” He drains the rest of the glass and refills it. “I don’t think Iisak truly follows anyone at all.” He glances at me. “May I sit?”

“Of course.”

He removes the sword belt and lays the weapon beside his chair. He braces his arms on his knees, then runs a hand through his damp hair. He looks as though he could sleep sitting upright, and sheer strength of will is keeping him awake.

I think of the way he dragged himself through the woods for
miles
, while his back was a mess of bleeding welts. I think of his quiet, encouraging voice in the dark of the woods when we were carrying that massive buck.
Another step,
he kept saying. “Don’t you realize that if you woke them all and insisted we ride out this instant, they’d be dressed and ready in minutes?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw, but he says nothing.

“You were commander of Rhen’s guard. Surely this is not a surprise.”

“That is different.”

“A lot of people in this town would follow you, too,” I say. “Do you have any idea what you did for them?”

“Led vicious soldiers here?”


Fell siralla!
You did not lead those men here. Rhen
sent
those men here. They did not have to attack the people of Blind Hollow.” My voice gains an edge. “No soldier needed to plant a knife in that woman’s belly. That would have been a killing blow.”

“I know.”

His voice is soft and full, and I expect him to say more, but he falls quiet again.

I feel as though I have learned so much about him over the past few days, but so much remains a mystery. I spent so long hoping to be named heir, to be able to provide a better life for my people, and Mother handed it to Nolla Verin. Grey seems to be the opposite. He does not want the Crown, though it seems destined to fall squarely into his lap.

“The guards were afraid of you,” I say.

He nods, and his eyes flick to the mark on my neck. “They should have been afraid of
you
. I never realized you were going for his dagger.”

“I am the daughter of a queen. I know how to defend myself.” Despite the words, my voice nearly wavers.
Knowing how
and
needing to
are very different things. “Would you really have killed that man?”

“If he tried to harm you? Yes.”

He says the word so simply, but it sets my heart pounding again. “That should bother me.”

“Why?”

I swallow and look down at my hands. “Because I truly do want peace between our countries. I mocked you for using violence as a means to settle conflict.”

“It is not weakness to wish for peace.”

“I can wish for peace all I want, but it didn’t stop that blade at my throat.” My eyes feel hot. “It didn’t stop them from hurting so many people.”

“We saved as many as we could.”

He
did that, along with Noah, Grey helping the more critical while Noah patched up minor injuries. By the time the townspeople retired to their homes, I had the impression they might build him a throne right in the town square.

Grey sighs. “And there will be no quelling this gossip.”

“Why would you
want
to quell this gossip?”

He looks at me, and his eyes are full of exhaustion and sorrow. “I have no desire to take Rhen’s throne, Lia Mara. I have no desire to harm his guards and soldiers. This is why I fled Ironrose. I do not want to drive Emberfall apart.”

“Rhen’s guards attacked these people. He issued orders to find you that caused his subjects to turn on each other. The man flayed your back open. He did the same to Tycho. I do not think you are the one driving Emberfall apart.”

Grey flinches. Almost imperceptibly, but I see it.

“Forgive me,” I say.

His eyes lift, finally, and find mine. “Did your mother kill that trapper? The one the barkeep spoke of?”

I go still, then look away. “Her guards did. My sister gave the order.”

“And what of that girl Raina?”

I swallow. “I saw her in the woods. She saw her father and sister executed.” I hesitate. “I allowed her to get to safety.”

His gaze feels like a weight on my skin. I have to fight to meet his eyes again. “The barkeep mentioned a mother in Wildthorne Valley who lost all her children. Your mother?”

“Yes.” He pauses. “Or no, in fact. But the woman I thought was my mother.” He’s quiet for a moment. “The enchantress killed them all as a means to manipulate me. When we were trapped by the curse.”

I long to reach out and touch him, but I am unsure how he would receive it. “Lilith sounds truly terrible.”

“She was.”

It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with magic. It’s no wonder Rhen fears it so deeply. The sorrow hangs over this room as heavily as the exhaustion. “It was not the magic that made her terrible, Grey.”

He runs a hand over his face, and for the barest moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. He hides it well, under this veneer of the terrifying guardsman, but he’s hardly older than I am. We’re both trapped by duty and circumstance, both trying to do what we can to protect our people.

“What will you do when we reach the mountain pass?” I say to him.

He raises his eyebrows in question.

“Will you accompany me into Syhl Shallow?”

When I first offered this solution, my goals were squarely in order: to prove to my mother that I can be as effective as my sister, in my own way. I would bring the heir to Emberfall right up to the steps of the palace, and for once, I would be the lauded sister. But now, after spending days in the woods with this man, I am unsure what answer I am hoping for.

At Nolla Verin’s side, he would be great. I have no doubt. He has a streak of vicious practicality that would match hers, I think. I like his streak of gentle vulnerability so much more. If he stands with my sister, I doubt I’ll ever see it again.

Grey studies me. “After what has happened here … I cannot stay in Emberfall.”

The words jab at my heart, and I straighten, chasing the pain away. “My mother is prepared to assist you in claiming your throne.”

“She will be disappointed.”

“She will be very convincing.”

His gaze sharpens. “What does that mean?”

“She will offer you silver. Any lands of your choosing. Military force. Command of her entire army, if you wish it. She is very driven to claim access to the waterways of Emberfall.” I pause. “She will offer you my sister—if Nolla Verin does not offer herself first.”

“None of those things will sway me, Lia Mara.”

I think of that moment in the woods when the night was so quiet around us and his thumb traced across my lip.
Stupid man.

“My sister is very beautiful,” I say. “You should not refuse blindly.”

His eyes are dark and intent on mine. “I am not refusing blindly.”

My cheeks warm, and I look away. My eyes skip across his broad shoulders, down to the corded muscles of his forearms. I caught glimpses of him in battle, when the soldiers and townspeople clashed, and for the first time, I understand why Rhen’s guards had to drag him into the castle courtyard in chains.

It must have cost him something great to allow that to be done to him.

When I lift my gaze, Grey is watching me, and my blush deepens.

“Forgive me,” I say.

His eyes spark with something like mischief, but a little darker, a little warmer. “If you must ask for forgiveness, then I should as well.” He glances away then, a stain of pink on his cheeks. “Now you see why I have no head for wine, to be so forward without it.”

The great warrior, blushing over a bit of wordplay. I smile—but my own exhaustion catches up with me, and I have to stifle a yawn.

“You should sleep,” Grey says softly.

I do not want to sleep. Every day that passes will bring us closer to Mother’s palace, and an end to … whatever is between us.

Because of that looming end, I cannot ask him to stay.

I don’t know if he’s misreading my silence, but he rises from the chair and deftly buckles his sword into place. “I will leave you to your rest,” he says.

He’s by the door when I say, “Grey?”

“My lady?”

He’s never called me that, and it sends a spark through me. I know it is a simple mark of respect, but now, between us, it feels intensely personal.
My lady.

I stop in front of him. The door is open, so I speak softly. “I have not yet thanked you for saving my life.”

His voice is equally quiet. “You saved yourself.”

My cheeks warm again. “Do you think the soldiers will return?”

“I do. And soon.”

I shiver, thinking of that man’s blade against my throat. When I swallow, I can feel the sting and the burn. I press a hand to my neck involuntarily.

Grey’s eyes are heavy and dark in the shadowed doorway. “I will guard your door.”

“I should not trouble you to—”

“I may not want to be king, but I know how to be a guard.” He brushes a finger along my jaw. “Fear not. No one will touch you again.”

Now I shiver for an entirely different reason.

I have so many things I want to say—so many things I don’t know
how
to say.

Before I can figure any of it out, Grey reaches for the door handle and pulls it closed between us.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY

GREY

We’re given breakfast at daybreak, so much food that we can hardly eat half. The finest horses the town has to offer wait to carry us wherever we want to go. Everyone we encounter is deferential. Ladies curtsy and men bow when we pass, and we leave a trail of whispers in our wake.

All of it makes me decidedly uncomfortable. I am nothing to these people. I am fleeing Emberfall, not saving it. Every time someone calls me
Your Highness
, I flinch and expect to see Rhen.

I’m tired and irritable by the time we’re on horseback, and I’m not the only one. Lack of sleep has done no one any good, but if Dustan and his men plan to circle back, we need to be quick and we need to be cautious. We gallop straight west from Blind Hollow, though it will add half a day of travel to the mountain pass. The heat of the sun presses down, but we ride on, desperate to get some distance between us and the town. Iisak soars high above, until he looks less like a creature out of a fairy tale, and more like a black hawk riding an air current.

When the sun blazes directly overhead, I slow my horse to a walk, and the others follow suit. The animal’s neck and flanks are damp with sweat, so I turn into the tree line to head for the creek. When I dismount and give the horse its head, its muzzle plunges into the icy water.

“We will rest for half an hour,” I say. I crouch on the bank and run a handful of water over the back of my neck.

Nearby, Tycho all but falls to his knees on the muddy bank. His cheeks are red, and he splashes water over his head before drinking it. A few yards downstream, Lia Mara is doing the same. I watch the water trickle over her neck, the end of her braid trailing in the water. Her cheeks are pink, too, tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead.

“Grey.”

I straighten to find Jacob beside me. His shirt is damp, his dark hair thick with sweat. His eyes are worn and irritated. “Half an hour?” he demands.

“We should hardly stop that long.”

“Everyone is exhausted. We got like two hours’ sleep, and we’ve been riding hard all morning.” He pauses, his voice lowering. “Maybe the others won’t say anything to you, but
I
will.”

He might have saved my life last night, but I hold no illusions about it being done for my benefit. He needs me to get him home—and he’s been needling me since the morning I woke chained in the wagon. I take a step, closing the distance between us. My voice is equally low. “If you can’t manage the pace, stay behind.”

“Don’t be a dick. I’m asking you for a day to rest—”

“A day.” I laugh without any humor. “Dustan would cut our throats in our sleep. Do you need a nursemaid, too, Jacob?”

He shoves me hard, right in the chest.

I shove him back, and he nearly falls. He recovers more quickly than I’m ready for, and he tackles me around the midsection. We both go down in the icy creek. The cold steals my breath—and then the water closes over my face as he pins me.

I land a punch in his side, and it grants me a few inches of freedom to suck in a breath before Jacob swings a fist that cracks me right in the jaw. I’m underwater again, his hands trapping me there. I can’t get leverage. I can’t breathe. The stars wait under my skin, ready to heal me, but they can’t fill my lungs with air.

Without warning, his hands fist in my shirt, and he jerks me up. I cough and gasp for breath.

“A day,” he says viciously.

“Half an—”

He shoves me underwater again, and this time I distantly register Lia Mara and Tycho shouting at him. My hands are tight on his wrists, my fingers digging in, but he holds fast.

The magic waits, sparks and stars under my skin. Lilith used to draw blood with barely a touch. Surely that’s not so different from healing. Pulling apart instead of putting together. Golden light begins to cloud my vision, flares of sunlight on the inside of my eyelids.

Harper will probably hate me forever if I kill her brother, but right now it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I send the sparks into his wrists. He shouts and throws himself back. I drag myself out of the creek, coughing a lungful of water onto the muddy bank beside me.

Jacob is still kneeling in the water, cradling a wrist against his chest. Blood stains his shirt, but it must not be too bad. His eyes are murderous instead of panicked.

“It’s not just for them, you idiot,” he says, his voice full of derision. “You’re exhausted, too. There’s no way I should have been able to pin you.”

I cough again. My throat feels ragged and raw. We’ve generated an audience. Lia Mara and Tycho are on the bank, their eyes worriedly going from me to Jacob. Noah is in the water, trying to pry Jacob’s arm away from his chest. Iisak crouches on the bank of the creek, waiting.

I don’t look at any of them.

The worst part is that Jacob is right. I
am
exhausted. He shouldn’t have been able to pin me. He shouldn’t have been able to land a punch at all.

I drag myself out of the water, then shove wet hair out of my face. “Fine. You can have until nightfall.” Without looking back, I head to where the horses are tethered to check our supplies.

No one follows.

I’m glad. I watch the others drift back into their quiet activities. Noah and Jacob are building a fire. Tycho looks like he’s trying to coax Iisak into a game of cards, and Lia Mara asks to play as well. She glances in my direction as if intending to invite me to join them, but whatever she finds in my expression convinces her otherwise, because she looks back at the cards while Tycho deals. The thought sours my darkening mood.

Last night, Lia Mara said I was leading. She’s wrong. I feel as though I’m flailing. Even when I was guard commander, I had a regimented set of duties. I had a plan. A chain of command. The prince gave orders, and I followed them.

Now, I have nothing. I have myself. Syhl Shallow might be the right destination—or it may very well be the wrong one.

Despite everything that has happened, I long for Rhen’s counsel. A near-eternity trapped by the curse meant that I knew what to expect from him, and he from me.

Rhen
, I think.
What would you do?

He would not ally with Syhl Shallow. I know that much.

I sigh, dropping to sit against a tree. My eyes sting from the water in the creek, so I rub at them. Exhaustion begs me to leave them closed, so I do, just for a moment. My hand falls into my lap.

“Yeah, I knew you were tired.”

I startle awake, my hands scrabbling through dirt and undergrowth for a weapon before I realize it’s only Jacob. The sky at his back has turned purple, the sun a sliver to our west, peeking over the mountain ranges. I’m disoriented and panicked for a moment, but his expression isn’t troubled, and all is quiet. The scent of our cooking fire wakes my belly with a vengeance. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

I drag a hand across my face. “How much time has passed?”

“Not enough. Here.” He holds out a steel bowl. “Eat while it’s hot.”

I take the bowl, and it’s warm, filled with shredded meat, a hunk of melting cheese, and a heel of bread that we brought from Blind Hollow. My clothes are still damp, but hunger is more pressing, so I draw my legs up to sit cross-legged, then dip the bread into the food. I should likely thank him, but I don’t. My mood still feels prickly and bitter, and I need no reminding of the way Jacob held me under the water.

When he drops to sit in the leaves across from me, his own bowl in his lap, my fingers go still. I glance up. “I am better rested now,” I say darkly.

He scoops up meat and cheese on the corner of his bread. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to kick my ass? Shut up and eat your food.”

The words are easy, lacking venom. Not repentant, but close. We’re a good distance from the fire, and it puts his eyes in shadow. I sigh and lift the bread to my mouth. We eat in silence for the longest time, until the sharp edges of my thoughts soften into something less volatile.

Jacob eventually sets his bowl aside, then pulls a cork from a bottle I didn’t realize he’d carried. He holds it out to me first.

I hesitate, then shake my head.

He takes a long swig, then says, “This is why I like you better than Rhen. He wouldn’t have sat here.”

He’s right. Rhen’s pride wouldn’t have allowed it. I use the remnants of my bread to scrape the last bit of cheese from the bowl. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you when I’m done eating.”

He smiles, but it’s brief and flickers out. “You gave me hell on the road from Rillisk to Ironrose, telling me I was pushing the guardsmen too hard. You were doing the same thing.”

“You were rushing needlessly. I’m trying to keep us alive.”

“So am I.”

My hands go still again, and I look up at him.

Jacob’s expression doesn’t change. “You might have noticed that last night.”

When he saved my life. I scowl. “You just need me alive to get you home.”

He swears and takes another draw from the bottle, then gives a humorless laugh. “Wow.”

I frown and say nothing.

“You don’t trust anyone at all,” he says, “and I think
that
, more than anything, is what’s going to bring you down.”

“That is not true.”

“It
is
true. You didn’t trust Rhen enough to tell him who you are. You don’t trust Lia Mara enough to fully commit to taking sanctuary in Syhl Shallow. I just watched you run yourself into the ground because you didn’t trust the town to keep you safe—and I have a feeling I’m going to watch it again and again until Dustan puts a sword through your back.”

“We were putting the town at risk—”

“Whatever. They drove those guardsmen out of there. They would have done it again. We could be sleeping in a bed right now instead of sitting in the leaves.” He pauses, and his eyes are like fire. “You don’t trust
me
enough to listen when I say people need to rest. You don’t trust me even though I jumped into a battle to
save your life
.”

I’m not sure what to say.

“You keep treating me like this bumbling idiot,” he snaps, “but I’m not reckless, and I’m not weak. I held my own in DC before we ever came here, and I can hold my own in Emberfall. I got your ass out of Ironrose after Rhen tore you and Tycho apart. And I didn’t just save you last night. I killed one of Rhen’s guardsmen. I put
my
neck on the line. I’m ready to ride into enemy territory with you. You think this is all on the off chance that you might one day be able to get us home? Are you
kidding me
?”

“Jacob—”

“I’m not done. I know you spent like four billion years trapped in that castle with no one but Rhen, and I won’t even tell you what Noah thinks that must have done to your mental state, but—” He
breaks off and makes a frustrated noise. “He wasn’t your friend, Grey. He had an eternity to be your friend, and he
wasn’t
. Even when you were dragged back to that castle, even after
everything
, he treated you like a criminal.”

“Rhen is protecting his kingdom.”

“You’re not his guardsman anymore. You owe him
nothing.
Stop acting like you do.” I flinch. He takes a swig from the bottle again and sighs. “You saved Noah’s life last night, Grey. You saved
mine
. I might have made you swear an oath to me, but we’ve moved way past that.”

I didn’t realize.

I should have.

“Forgive me—” I begin.

“Oh, shut up. Here.” Jacob holds out the bottle. The amber liquor swirls and glitters in the light from the distant fire.

I inhale to refuse, but I am struck by his words.
You’re not a guardsman anymore.

I seize the bottle and upend it, swallowing fire.

Jake snorts. “Okay, take it easy, tiger.”

I cough and hand it back. “That tastes terrible.”

“I know. It’s fantastic. That Eowen guy said it was the best he had.” Jacob takes a long swallow himself. “More?”

I should refuse.

I don’t. This sip burns as much as the first. My thoughts feel loose and scattered already.

Jacob is watching me. “I’m surprised you and Rhen weren’t lit every day of that curse.”

“He was. On occasion.” On the last night of the final season, Rhen and I shared a bottle of sugared spirits and toasted our failures.
He encouraged me to escape the curse, to find a new life away from Ironrose.

He was trying to protect me.

I have long thought we should have been friends, Grey.
That’s what he said the day I was dragged back to the castle.

He flayed my back open the next day. Out of fear of the unknown.

He had an eternity to be your friend
, Jacob said.

Suddenly I want to drain this whole bottle. For that reason alone, I shove the cork back in. “We will reach Syhl Shallow in a day’s time,” I say, and my voice has gone husky.

“That’s what Iisak said, too.”

“Lia Mara claims she can assure our safety, but I would like to offer the illusion of strength all the same.”

“What does that mean?”

“Perhaps you should ride at my side.”

“Like a servant?”

“No.” I pause. This feels like it might be a bad idea, but my ability to care is quickly vanishing. “Like a second-in-command.”

He pulls the cork free and takes a swallow. “I’m not like you. I can’t be like you were to Rhen.”

No. He can’t. He might not be reckless and weak, but he is headstrong and impulsive.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Jacob is studying me. “Or are you just trying to do the same thing Rhen did?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you trying to fake it?” His expression darkens. “Are you asking me to sit on a horse and look like hired muscle?”

I hesitate.

He rolls his eyes and goes to take another drink from the bottle.

I reach out and pull it away from him. We’re both a bit drunk now, and my words feel fuzzy and a little more honest than I’m ready for. “Would you be able to do it
without
faking it?”

His eyes meet mine, and I think he’s going to be flippant and defiant about this, the way he is about most everything.

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