The Wizard's Heir (13 page)

“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

Auriella took a deep breath. “I…I want to trust you, but…” She turned to look at him, and the sight of her face made Tybolt’s heart constrict. Her eye was black and swollen, and there was a red lump on her temple. She was splattered with blood, and Tybolt wasn’t sure if it was hers or not.

“What happened?” He wanted to take her face between his hands but knew better.

“Tybolt, I’m so confused.”

“Trust me, talk to me,” he pleaded.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Then…” He hesitated. “Trust yourself and follow what your heart tells you.”

She was silent for a while, staring at the house in the clearing. “What does my heart tell me?”

She’d murmured the question to herself, that much was obvious, but he answered anyway. “I was hoping it said I was worth trusting.”

Auriella closed her eyes and pulled the cloak tighter. “I swore I would keep him safe. I never come here,
never
. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to leave a trail for you to follow. I shouldn’t have come. I just…I didn’t know where else…I haven’t been here in so many years. I miss him.”

Tybolt understood. “Your father?”

“Yes.”

“You told me your father lived just outside the wall.”

“I lied.” She jerked to her feet like she’d been bitten. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Tybolt looked up at her. “Where are you going?”

Her face went slack as she turned back to look at the darkened windows of the cabin. She looked so lost, her face half lit in the moonlight. “I don’t know.”

“Then—” Tybolt pushed to his feet and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Auriella slowly put her hand in his. “Where?”

“Maybe it’s time I trust you too, Auriella Doshire.”

The King sat on his throne, waiting. Terric finally jerked the door open and walked in.

“Did you take a nap before you answered my summons?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me dripping blood on your royal rugs.” Terric turned his head and motioned to his cheek.

The servant had stitched it up as well as could be expected, but it still looked dreadful. It would scar, and horribly. That was certain.

“Auriella dealt with your dark intentions quite thoroughly, I see.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t bother with your pathetic denials, Terric, you weren’t exactly subtle. There were several witnesses. One of which felt obligated to inform me that my future bride was being assaulted in an alleyway. ”

Terric had the decency to drop into a bow. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

“My bride seems to have left the city as a result of your actions. I need you to bring her back.”

“My king.” Terric looked up, startled. “Auriella knows the woods better than anyone.”

“So I’m told.” Rowan leaned back in his throne. “Before we continue, I’m sure that it goes without saying that she’s not to be harmed. If you were to decide that retribution was in order, there will be consequences.”

“Auriella attacked me on—”

“Let me make myself exceptionally clear—I don’t care.”

Anger flared in Terric’s eyes, replaced quickly by suspicion. “Why me?”

“You mean, why would I trust you after your recent trespasses?” Rowan smiled. “I’m in need of a bride, Terric. Although I’d hoped specifics would be unnecessary, I’ll remind you that your sister is of age if Auriella were to be presented in an
unsuitable
manner.

Terric’s jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

“Despite all that I give them, my queens fail so quickly.” Rowan
tskd
in mock sorrow. “It is a curse.” He leaned forward. Tenting his fingers, he peered over them. “All things considered, I believe I can trust you to keep your hands, and anything else you might consider extending, to yourself.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps bringing the object of your desire home to hand over to your king will begin to pay your recompense.”

“How am I supposed to find her, Your Majesty?”

Rowan laughed. “You honestly believe she can’t be found? You’re
that
incapable?”

Terric was silent. His jaw worked as if trying to mash together an acceptable answer.

"Really.” Rowan pursed his lips and tapped his finger against the arm of the throne. “Well then, another route. Something will need to be done to encourage our little bird back to the nest. This
encouragement
will not be gentle, and frankly, Terric, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Your Highness?”

“Auriella hid her father in the thieves’ forest in an attempt to keep me from learning of his existence. Unfortunately, the foolish old man wandered into the village a few years back, trying to convince one of my best Hunters to leave. I had him followed but allowed him to stay hidden, just in case I was ever in need of a little persuasion.”

A smile stretched across Terric’s stitched face, pulling at the skin and making him look even more maniacal than usual.

“I need him brought to me. Can you do it?

“Oh, I can do it.”

“I need him alive.”

Auriella was silent as Tybolt led them through the thieves’ forest and towards the coast. He glanced back repeatedly, concerned at how she slouched in the saddle, clutching her cloak around her. Widow Maker snorted loudly, and Tybolt smelled the salt in the air. They were close.

The horses stepped through the last of the trees, and Tybolt’s conflicting emotions bubbled up. He hadn’t been here since that day—the day the sea swallowed everything he loved.  The ground had healed, hiding the fractures that had almost swallowed him with dry brown grass. Out past the cliff, the world seemed to go on forever in an expanse of black. The gentle lapping of the water brought back a rush of memories, and Tybolt could almost smell the fish stew that so frequently had graced their dinner table.

He pulled Widow Maker to a stop and dismounted, letting the reins hang loose so the horse could graze.

“What are we doing here?” Auriella asked.

“I wanted to show you something.” Tybolt reached up and gently pulled her from the horse. He slid his hand through hers and led her towards the edge of the cliff.  “Look.”

Auriella looked out to sea and squinted. “What is that?”

It was hard to distinguish in the moonlight, but the rounded skeleton of a lighthouse jutted up from the ocean. “That was my home.”

Tybolt sat and patted the ground next to him. “This cliff used to extend much further out into the bay, and our lighthouse sat right at the edge. Sometimes I still wake in the middle of the night, hearing the crack as the cliff peeled away.” He paused. “I see it too, in my dreams…the lighthouse disappearing from view, my sister still standing in the door. I lost everything that day—my mother, my sister, my home—swallowed by the angriest sea I’ve ever seen.”

“You lived out here until the Fracture.” Auriella’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “I never understood how you could be one of us yet not understand so many things. But you were here the whole time, sheltered from everything.” She looked over at him, her face a play in light and shadows beneath the moon. “Tell me about your childhood,” she whispered.

“I’ll make you a deal—my childhood for yours.”

She shuddered. “You don’t want to hear about mine.”

“I do.” He gently touched her cheek. She flinched away.

Tybolt lay back and looked up at the night sky speckled with brilliant dots of white and silver. The stars winked at him, just as they had when he was child. “We ran the lighthouse. My mother and my older sister made sure the light was always burning. I carried the wood to keep the fire going. When I wasn’t doing that, I was usually on the beach, running in the waves and playing with the crabs.”

Auriella laughed. “Playing with the crabs?”

Tybolt grinned. “Oh, I loved it, it was like a hunt. They hide beneath the wet sand so you can’t see them. If you wait until the tide goes out, you’ll see tiny bubbles appear above where they’re buried. My sister and I would shove our hands in the wet sand as fast as we could and yank them out. Myla would drop them as soon as she found them, worried one would pinch her. But I would hold my palm out flat with that little crab on it to torture our dog. It would dance around me, barking and snarling, and the crab would hold up its claws and snap them at the dog.” He smiled. “I’d laugh until my sister would make me release the poor thing.”

“You had a dog?”

“We did. Dumb thing. It always escaped and ran down the beach, then I would have to go after him.” Tybolt went silent and his smile faded. “That’s where I was the night of the Fracture.”

Auriella looked down at her clasped fingers. “Your childhood sounds wonderful.”

“It was, mostly. My mother was a great cook, but I always complained about her fish stew. We had it so often. What I wouldn’t give for a bowl now.”

“Who caught the fish?”

“My sister or me.”

“What about your father?”

“Never knew him.”

“Your sister and mother, how often did they go into the village?”

“They didn’t.”

She looked over at him. “Never?”

“No, we had to stay at the lighthouse to make sure the fire didn’t go out.”

“But how did you get things you needed, like flour?”

Tybolt opened his mouth, then shut it again. “I…I don’t know.” He hadn’t ever thought about things like that as a child. Food and clothes and anything else they needed were always just…there.

Auriella wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the ocean. “Your family was blessed to be able to stay here. The village wasn’t safe for a female Hunter.”

“But that’s where you were.”

Auriella’s expression closed and she turned away.

Tybolt sat up, wanting to turn her around. “Auriella, please. You can’t keep shutting me out like this. I like you. You must see that, but you won’t let me in.”

She snorted. “You don’t
like
me, Tybolt. It’s called lust.”

Tybolt didn’t know if it was what she said, or the disgust in her voice as she said it, but it sliced through him with a fury. “Don’t tell me what I feel,” he said.

“It’s what everyone feels for me. They feel something because of the way I look. They don’t know me at all.”

“You won’t
let
anyone know you. Do you want the truth? When I first met you, I thought you were cold, aloof, and every bit the wench everyone said you were.”

She finally turned, her face awash in shock. “You never thought that I was…was—”

“Beautiful? Of course I did. I’m not blind. But the first time the king paired us for a hunt, I wasn’t happy. I had no desire to spend three days with the “Ice Queen”. Once we were away from the castle, I started to see who you were. I would watch you when you didn’t think I was, and I gained a little respect for you. Every hunt after that I liked you more. You, Auriella. Not your eyes, not your body,
you
. I would’ve fallen in love with you a long time ago if you would just give me something to hold onto.” As he said the word
love
, something within him lurched. “Wizard’s spawn,” he swore, “I would move mountains for you, Auriella.”

She looked at him with wonder, her eyes searching his. “What do you want to know?”

Tybolt sagged with relief. “Anything, everything.” He moved to his knees and took her hands in his. “I want to see you,” he whispered.

Tears glistened in the moonlight, pooling in the corners of her eyes. “It’s not pretty.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He cautiously touched the underside of her jaw. Her skin was so soft, like velvet beneath his fingers. “I can see the pain—I’ve always seen it. Help me understand it.”