Page 57 of Omen of ice
I pray she’s all right.
Sleep comes fitfully, and when I open my eyes the next morning, I know right away that I’m alone. Whatever this thing linking us together is, it’s growing. Tania’s presence is like a familiar itch I can’t quite scratch. It grows worse the farther away she is.
Scanning the area, I climb to my feet. “Tania?”
“Worried I left you out here to fend for yourself?” Her voice drifts from the trees. She appears a moment later, tunic untucked and pulled up with the ends gathered in her hands. In the well of the material is a small pile of slightly shriveled apples and peaches. “I thought we could conserve the dried food we brought. There’s only so much to scavenge from the land these days.”
Without the Fae magic, the lands are sick and nearly fruitless. Liani said druid magic was harder for Orbik to manipulate than Fae. The rumors are that he’s stronger than even Servis himself. So why had my great-grandfather taken the magic if he couldn’t use it? Was it spite? Had something gone wrong between him and Aphelian that history has forgotten?
“What happened to Aphelian?” I pick up a small apple and clean it against my tunic. It’s bruised and soft—completely unappetizing—but I’m starving. I take a bite. It’s bitter, so I pull out the flask of wine I brought and take a long pull. “Our history tells us that she died protecting Servis, but the details are fuzzy.”
I’m no better than the rest of them. I’ve had multiple opportunities to tell her the truth, yet I keep the secret hidden out of fear of losing her. Do I really want to be responsible for upending the balance between Fae and the last of the humans?
What I need to do is find a way to return what Servis stole so long ago without destroying all that we both know. Fae magic has started to return. I’m the first, but Orbik is sure more will come. It might take decades—centuries, even—but our birthright will return. We simply have to wait. Knowing that, possessing the power I do, should be enough. I’m already giving the court infusions. What if I just give a little more… I might be able to return the druid power without damning my own people.
Tania dumps the fruit onto the blanket between us, then kneels and begins separating the pieces. “Death to protect the one you love. It’s the oldest fairy tale around.” Her lips twist into a sad smile. She takes a bite of one of the peaches, grimaces, then tosses it into the woods. “We tell our people the same tale, but the truth is—from what we can tell—Aphelian took her own life.”
“Really?” The guilt threatens to swallow me whole, but I tamp it down. “Why would she do that? Did something happen between her and Servis?”
Servis died almost three hundred years after stealing Aphelian’s power. Murdered by a jealous courtesan. Envrill, his son, had taken over for him. When he died—also a victim of foul play—his own son, Orbik, took the throne. Servis, Envrill, Orbik… It didn’t matter. Aphelian’s death, the druids’ squalor and suffering… My entire bloodline is responsible for so many reprehensible actions. Any one of them could have done the right thing.
She shrugs and tries an apple. “No one really knows. Like I said, the Order doesn’t like to keep written records. All we have are our stories passed down from person to person. As I’m sure you know, things like that can warp with time.” She deems the apple distasteful and sends it into the woods to join the peach. “For all we know, she died of old age, tucked away in one of Servis’s many estates.”
The apple in my hands frosts over, and I let it fall to the ground. I can’t do it anymore. Maybe it would be easier if we weren’t linked, or maybe I’ve just grown too fond of her to lie. Whatever the reason, the idea of standing in front of her spitting these lies for another instant makes me sick. Not telling her out of fear of losing her is selfish. Normally, something like that wouldn’t bother me, but with Tania… “I have something to confess to you.”
“Valen, if you’re going to attempt flattering me into kissing you, I’ll stop you right there.” She grabs another apple and waves it at me. “Goddess knows you must be starving for attention out here in the woods with no one to fawn all over you.”
For the briefest moment, an image of kissing her is all I can see. Threading my hands through her wild hair, pressing her close and pushing her back against one of the trees… I shake it off and force my breathing to even out. “It’s not that.”
“Whatever it is, don’t hurt yourself. I’m not a fan of unnecessary pain.” She tosses the apple, plucks another peach from the pile, and stands. “Do you think—”
“Your people are wrong.” The link between us flares, warm and electric. She stops, brow quirked as the second peach hovers in front of her lips.
“Wrong about what?”
“About Servis. He wasn’t who you think he was.”
She’s absolutely still, watching me with confusion but also something darker. Deep inside her, there’s a black thing brewing. It should scare me, but for some reason, I find it comforting. It’s everything and nothing all churning at breakneck speed.
“He was…” I take a single step toward her. She remains where she is, but the way she watches me makes my breath catch. My head clouds, the words on the tip of my tongue slipping away.
“He was what?” Her gaze meets mine, and she’s quiet. So deathly quiet. If a feather were to fall, the entire forest would hear it in this moment.
“Beautiful.”
“Servis was beautiful?”
“You.” I swallow back a lump that’s formed in my throat. My heart is pounding, and I can hear it beating,thumpthumpthumpthump… “You’re beautiful.”
“Will you stop playing games?” She rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, but I touch her arm.
I can’t do it. Looking in her eyes, seeing the trust she has for me, the loyalty, I can’t destroy that. I can’t lose it. No one has ever looked at me with such adoration, such favor. It’s not physical, and it’s not greed. It’s…pure. I’m far too weak to let go of it. In the short time she’s been here, I’ve come to rely on her. If I tell her the truth, what’s to stop her from leaving? Certainly not me.
I blink and shake away the haze. “I just mean, I value you. For all that you are and all that you have to offer.”
“All that I have to offer?” She gives up on the fruit entirely and tosses the last of it into the woods. “Can you really not go a day without—”
“No!”
