Page 15 of The Blade in the Ashes
It wasn’t the same dreary, hopeless mood that had come immediately following Lorelai’s death. No, this mood was somehow… darker. It was a mood filled with impatience, irritation, and a general sense of disgust.
Disgust at Clay, at myself, at the whole Gods damned world.
Moods like this had become more common than not lately, and they made it impossible to pretend to be the cheery, enthusiastic girl my friends all expected me to be.
“You’re not a very good riding buddy,” Rankor complained.
I grumbled unintelligibly in his direction.
His hair had lightened during our days riding, the sun pulling out some of the copper hues. He tied it back hours ago, but the wind had pulled out strands that now fluttered about his face.
A face that was grinning wildly at me with waggling eyebrows.
I fought the sudden flash of frustration.
What in all of creation was there to smile about at a time like this?
“Come on, Iris.” He drew out the words, his tone pleading. “I’m bored out of my mind; give me something fun to talk about.”
I lifted my brows, adjusting my grip on the reins in my fingertips. “Like what? Should we discuss how we’re a band of rebels without a home, on our way to beg for allies in a war we stand no chance of winning? Or should we talk about how Lorelai’s murderer has somehow earned a place at the front of this little riding party? No, perhaps we should discuss how our friend is trapped with the God of Death and his evil minions, and we don’t know if they are holding her prisoner or if she is helping them.”
Rankor huffed, his lips pushing forward in a pout. “You used to be more fun.”
Yes, he didn’t need to remind me of that.
We had all been more fun once.
The fun had died out a long time ago, though, and I didn’t think it was going to come back anytime soon. He might as well resign himself to that fact. I certainly had.
A hawk’s call sounded from above, and I tilted backwards, taking in the sun's position in the cloudless sky. We’d likely only have a few more hours of daylight to make it out of these woods to wherever we were traveling.
I had, admittedly, not paid much attention to that part of the plan. Once Camilla had started talking, and Clay had started agreeing with her, it had taken all my strength and dwindling self-control to see past the ring of burning red rage that had clouded my vision.
Fucking Camilla.
Lorelai wouldn’t want me to be holding on to this anger. Good, sweet,pureLorelai would go so far as to even encourage me to forgive my former friend. Lorelai had always been more understanding of others than I was. She would have listened to Camilla’s story quietly, before taking Camilla’s hands and apologizing toherfor the fact that she’d had to live through Pasnia’s manipulations.
But Lorelai was dead.
Good, sweet, pure,innocentLorelai had been killed.
And I couldn’t just forgive her murderer as if it had never happened at all.
I rolled out my neck, eager to release the tension I’d been carrying between my shoulder blades.
Truthfully, it never would have worked between Lorelai and I, anyway.
As much as I had loved her—and I did really love her—I wasn’t sure Lorelai had ever fully seen me for who I was. I don’t think she would have been able to allow herself to see me in the light of all the things I’ve done. Lorelai always saw the best in everyone. When she was alive, I had thought that was an admirable quality.
Now, I thought it was overrated.
She saw the best in me at the expense of even acknowledging the existence of the worst.
And I’d just let her view me that way.
“I’m so hungry I could eat a horse,” Rankor mused, before looking down at his steed with instant regret. “Not literally.”
A small chuckle shook my chest as I tried to force myself back into that teasing, joyful role he wanted me to play. It was an old routine by now. A smile here. A wink there. “When this is all over, I say we go to that bakery down in the village and stuff ourselves.”
