Page 56 of Omen of ice
“Like you were trapped,” she says, almost to herself. “What caused it the first time?”
“It was right after I found Mika.” The memory of finding her on the floor is razor-sharp, like the blood on my hands is still there, slick and warm. I didn’t remember half of what happened by the end of that day—only that those involved paid dearly.
She nods but says nothing. I appreciate the moment of silence.
I maneuver around a large boulder in our path. “Buri can teach me control, but magic like mine hasn’t existed in thousands of years. No one really knows how to deal with it anymore. She even theorized that it came back different—stronger and less controllable as a way of protecting itself from us.”
“And is it just anger that brings it on? Or can fear cause it?” Tania slows for a moment, leaning against the large rock to readjust her pack. She’s tired. I feel it. And even though I want to stop to let her rest, I know it’s not safe. Not yet. We need to go just a bit farther.
“Fear? Why would you say that?”
“If I’d been eaten, you’d probably be dead. No one, human or Fae, wishes to greet death. Not like that.”
“Maybe I do.” My life is less than ideal. The one true joy I have, aside from wine, of course—releasing my wolf and running free—is controlled by my uncle’s suffocating security measures.
She turns back to the path and sighs. “I was seven when I was placed in training. I’m not sure how much you know about the Order, but training ishard. It’s brutal and unforgiving, and some don’t make it past the first year.”
“Why have children, then?” I step over a large, fallen tree, then reach out to help Tania over. To my surprise, she lets me. “Surely your mother knew what was to become of her offspring.”
“It’s an honor to bear an Aphelian. A joyous thing.” A sad laugh slips past her lips. “To know your child will one day live among the Fae. Lavishly clothed, exquisitely fed, and offered every comfort beyond human reach.”
What I know about our ancestors burns the inside of my mouth and begs me to release it. I know what it’s like to have my beliefs destroyed. Do I really want to do that to her? For Tania, the truth would be so much more devastating.
She turns back to me, smiling sadly. “Don’t feel bad for me, Valen. I have no regrets.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to try and get my emotions in check. Surely there won’t be a way to explain the guilt every time it needles me?
“I have three brothers, all older,” she says. “Since Aphelians are female, my mother kept going until she had me.”
“And what do they think of all this? Your brothers…”
“I doubt they know I exist.” Another laugh, this one weaker than the last. “They don’t even know my mother exists. She was forced to surrender them the day they were born, just as she was me. The fact that I know they’re out there somewhere is a small gift. We’re not usually told anything about our families. But Levina always favored me.”
“You’ve never met them?” I feel for her.
“And I never will. The Order doesn’t keep records, and even if they did, I’m sure they wouldn’t disclose the information.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason they ink us with the Heartbreaker, I suppose. They fear the emotional connection might get in the way one day.” She laughs once more, but this one is forced. An almost choked sound that implies she’s trying to cover up bitterness. “The only reason I know of them, know their names, is because Levina told me.”
“You know their names?”
“Only their first names. Duren, Wellan, and Larkin.”
“The whole thing seems cruel.” To have living family out there and be kept from them must be torture.
“I used to dream about meeting them one day. But, as I got older, I understood the reason behind keeping us apart.” She stops walking and spins in a slow circle. An odd emotion pulses through our link—a spike of sadness and a pang of regret. It only lasts a moment before hardened determination takes its place. “Do you think this is far enough to camp for the night?”
The frozen trees at the border of the Winter Lands have long been replaced with thick, reddish trunks and branches scattered with dull gold leaves. The moss has a sickly yellow tint and grows scattered reddish-brown flowers, their small petals ragged and torn, like something has shredded them. It’s warmer here, too. Not uncomfortably so. At least not yet. I’ve never ventured this far from the estate.
I’ve spent innumerable hours reading. Page after page about the other courts and their lands. About their bounties and people…about their downfall. Before my time, this part of the forest was the site of the Stedfel bloodbath. What little remained of Autumn and Summer had waged war here just after the Great Drain, when a rumor spread that Autumn had taken in a mysterious druid who’d somehow retained full power. It’d been nothing more than chatter; otherwise, they would have survived. But countless Fae lost their lives in these woods, chasing that hope. Enough blood soaked the ground to drown this entire continent.
“We should hike to the edge of this forest before settling down for the night.” We’re both tired, but there’s a wrongness to this place that sets me on edge. I know Tania feels it, too. The air is heavy, and the absence of all sound makes it feel as though Death itself is creeping toward us. I don’t care to linger. “This land is drenched in blood, and I doubt the spirits lurking here would welcome either of us tonight.”
…
We agree a fire still isn’t wise. There’s still too great a chance that someone would see—or smell—the smoke. If my uncle’s men are tracking us, they’ll have to give up eventually. Given that I’ve covered our tracks and they have no knowledge of where we’re headed, it’ll be challenging to follow for long. There are too many ways we could have gone by this point. Still…they might get lucky this close to the Winter border. By now they’ll have realized we hadn’t gone north as Liani said.
