Chapter 16

16

arwen

How can I be of service?” I asked Mari as she put the rest of the site together piece by piece with her magic. We needed to camp out in the jungle to avoid the cities filled with Amber soldiers who wanted our heads. I didn’t mind much, but Mari wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Nothing. Just make yourself comfortable. I’ve got it,” Mari said, folding each tent’s furs and hanging each lantern from the comfort of the tree she leaned against. Two iron pots unpacked themselves and a cluster of metal mugs stacked in midair.

My feet shifted beneath me, and I folded my hands into my blouse. “Are you sure?”

I hadn’t seen Kane in the last few hours. I wasn’t worried about him in war-torn Peridot by himself. I was just antsy. And hot. When would he be back? How long until we hiked for the cavern? How would this blade call to me? We had not even been here a day and already I was sick of my own anxious thoughts.

“What’s Griffin doing?” I motioned to his massive back, hunched over something by the fire.

“He’s actually quite the fisherman.” A slight color had risen to Mari’s cheeks. “He caught some fish wherever he and Kane went. He’s gutting them now. But no cod, of course.”

I tried not to smirk. “Of course. Because you hate cod.”

“Everyone hates cod. It’s bland,” she said, brow furrowed. “Obviously.”

I looked back at Griffin, slowly and methodically slicing the fish into filets. Fish he had caught at Mari’s instruction. I imagined him throwing every cod back in order to please her, and my heart tugged a bit. But he looked as pleasant as he ever did. The meticulous, solitary hobby suited him.

“If you’re looking for a job around camp,” Prince Fedrik said, slipping out from his slightly larger, more stylish tent, his blond hair fluttering in the dappled sunlight, “I was about to gather some firewood. Care to join?”

Mari gave me such a forcefully encouraging expression she might as well have waved a flag overhead that read, Go, you idiot!

“Sure.” I grabbed the axe and followed him into the depths of the rain forest.

After flying past miles and miles of night-drenched, unspoiled, fertile farmland and lush green hills on the back of Kane’s dragon form, I had expected serenity and peace, but this side of Peridot was not nearly as pleasant as Siren’s Cove. It was wild and tangled and verdant. A little overwhelming. I missed that clear blue bay and sparkling pink sand. I wondered if anyone had cleaned up the wreckage that now adorned it. If you could even clean blood from sand. Or if the peaceful waves of Siren’s Bay had taken on the gruesome task, washing away each body, each stain with the restless tide.

“Nervous for tonight?” Fedrik’s words jarred me from the bleak image.

“No,” I admitted, traipsing through roots and vines and little critters that scuttled at our feet. I chose to leave out the truth: that I hadn’t felt much of anything in weeks until my poor choices the other night.

As if reading my thoughts, Fedrik said, “With Crawford . . . That was . . .” He scratched at his bicep. “How often do you end up in situations such as those with your king?”

“Never,” I lied. Fedrik cut a look my way and I cringed before amending, “Occasionally.”

“How did a lovely woman such as yourself end up as the personal healer to a king like that?”

“Dreadful luck?”

When he grinned in response, all his glittering white teeth sparkled in the sunlight. “Your bad luck is my good fortune.”

A smile pricked at my face. It was so easy, talking to the prince. So easy to pretend I really was just a castle healer, my biggest problem the moods of the royalty I served.

“Why not retire from your post? I have some sports injuries; I’ll employ you as my own healer.”

Briefly disarmed, I faltered for a sufficient response. “I wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t abandon him. Personal frustrations or otherwise.”

“Well,” he said after a pause, “it’s brave of you to stand by King Ravenwood. To travel alongside him,” Fedrik continued, stopping at a fallen tree and smoothly taking the axe from my hand. “Especially on a risky journey such as this one.”

How funny. I hadn’t been brave a moment in my life for twenty years—crippled by anxiety and worry—and in the span of just a few months I was facing fears left, right, and sideways without as much as a hair raised on my neck.

Fedrik reared back and swung the axe into the supple, mossy wood, splitting the log with one clean stroke. The muscles of his back rippled through his damp white shirt as he struck once more with a grunt and knelt to hand me the split pieces.

“I’m not usually like that,” I said, clearing my throat. “My brother and sister are the brave ones.”

“Really? And you’re the . . .”

I chewed my cheek in thought. “Responsible one?”

Understanding glinted in his eyes. “You and I play similar roles, then. So your siblings, are they actually brave or just reckless?”

“Most of the time Ryder doesn’t understand enough about a situation to realize he should be afraid. And Leigh is too young to know how much there is to fear.” I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them. She had seen now how vicious the world could be.

Sensing the bleak direction my thoughts had taken, Fedrik took my shoulder in his broad hand. His grasp was warm and supportive. Strong and sturdy like the wood cradled in my arms.

“At the risk of sounding rude . . . when I first met you, you seemed, well—you seemed a little sad. I’m sorry. For all you and your family have had to endure. If you ever need to talk, I’m around. Healers are too often forced to witness the carnage of battle.”

I wanted to laugh. I was the carnage of battle.

“Thank you,” I said instead.

“I have a younger sister, too. I think you met her briefly in Azurine. Sera?”

“Yes, are you two close?”

“Very,” he said as we sloshed through a patch of mud. “We fight like cats and dogs . . . or maybe wolves and kittens. But at the end of the day, she’s the most important person in the world to me.”

I offered him a small smile that I hoped conveyed how much I related to his sentiments. “So, who’s the wolf and who’s the kitten?”

“Oh, I’m the kitten without a doubt. She decimates me.”

A rare laugh bubbled out of me, and we both smiled at the sound. Something new was blossoming inside me. More than just appreciation for his chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes or the way his kindness toward me irritated Kane. Fondness, like a warm, brewed cup of tea, seeped into my heart. I liked this sunshine prince. Quite a bit, actually.

“I’m sorry about her betrothal to Kane. I know it ended poorly.”

Fedrik shrugged. “It was a blessing. They wouldn’t have made each other happy.”

I rolled my next words around on my tongue, debating whether I really wanted to know the answer. Curiosity won out. “Was part of your objection to the marriage the fact that Kane is . . .”

“An asshole? Or Fae?”

I gave a shallow nod indicating the latter.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it was strange. I mean, he isn’t human, is he? He would’ve outlived her, outlived their children . . .”

I pursed my lips, nodding again.

“But,” he said evenly, “I’m no bigot. I probably wouldn’t have cared if he had been a decent man.” Fedrik half smiled, though his eyes were forlorn. “But, of course, he wasn’t.”

“Was that why you joined us? To judge him for yourself?”

Fedrik set down the logs in his hands to hack into another fallen trunk. His muscles tensed with each blow and I tried not to ogle the bronze skin of his forearms sparkling with sweat.

“Here,” he huffed, handing me more fresh firewood, and carrying the rest himself. “I wasn’t lying on the beach yesterday. I want Citrine to fight for the side of good, and my parents are more likely to be convinced if we have the blade.”

“You just also don’t know if Kane is good.”

“Good is a general term. Do I think King Ravenwood is a good man? No, not particularly. Do I think his desire to end his father’s reign and halt his conquest of Evendell is honest? Yes. And he’ll need our army to do that.”

I fought the anxiety stirring in my stomach. “But your parents, they refused him.”

“They’re very set in their ways.”

“And that bothers you?”

“I’m not afraid of change, like they are. But I am afraid of them.”

“So what can be done?”

“If we have the blade, it’ll be hard for them to ignore the fact that King Ravenwood and the Fae from the prophecy stand a real chance. And if we can’t get it, I hope to convince them to change their minds about him as a person.”

A slow breath sailed out from my lips. “I don’t feel Kane has showed you his best side quite yet.”

Fedrik’s lips curled up. “Does he have a good side?”

I tried to answer honestly. “He has a better one, but I don’t expect you’ll see it on this trip.”

“King Ravenwood doesn’t frighten me.”

I almost said he should, but chose only to nod. Better for Fedrik not to know what being Fae truly meant. Not to know exactly what Kane could do to him if he felt so inclined.

“If I may be so bold,” Fedrik said, as if he were mustering some kind of courage, “what is the nature of your relationship with him? I know you are his healer, but . . . he seems a bit possessive of you.”

Oh, Stones.

“He and I . . .” A searing image of Kane’s hand around my waist, pressing me against him in a moonlit alley, jumped into my mind. Maybe partial honesty was the path of least resistance here. “We kissed.”

Fedrik raised his brows. “And now?”

I wanted to tell him I had been asking myself the same question. Partial honesty won out again. “We are working through some of the discomfort. We probably shouldn’t have acted on our mutual attraction.”

“I can’t say I blame him,” Fedrik said, though he kept his eyes on the glossy leaves around us. I still felt heat rise in my cheeks. “And Griffin and Mari?”

“That’s an even more fraught entanglement,” I said, relieved to move on from Kane and me. “Feelings seem to be blossoming right under Mari’s own nose, but I don’t know if she can see them for what they are quite yet.”

“You should tell her as much.”

“I’ve tried. I’m not exactly the pinnacle of romantic success these days. I probably wouldn’t take advice from me, either.”

“And for Griffin?”

“Oh, he’s completely gone for her. Every time she’s nearby he rubs at his chest with a baffled expression. Like, What is this feeling I only get when the witch is around?”

Fedrik laughed like I was an absolute delight, and I beamed at him. “He won’t even refer to her by her name.”

Still smiling, we rounded a tree and stumbled right into Griffin with his fishing gear and a shirtless, sweat-slicked Kane. Griffin’s face was steel. He had clearly heard every word. Kane chuckled low and soft as he leaned over to remove his boots, a small yet shimmering lagoon rippling behind them.

I tried to think of anything but Kane’s body, sweaty, glistening, and soon to be submerged in cool water.

“Oh—Griffin.” I blanched, guilty. “We were only teasing.”

“It’s fine.” But he stalked off like it was very much not fine.

Kane tutted at me. “Bird, you have such talons today.”

I rolled my eyes. “Me? You torment him more than anyone.”

“I challenge him. You’re no better than a bully.”

But I was only half listening. I couldn’t take my eyes off his flexed, shiny, defined abdomen. The deep rumble of his voice . . .

When I finally looked up, Kane was grinning like a wolf.

I wanted to say something rude, but my traitorous mind was still trying to pull its jaw off the floor.

Fedrik responded instead. “Where’s your shirt?”

Kane gestured to the green pond behind him and began to unlace his leathers. “Care to stay for the show?”

“We’ll pass.” Finally, speech had returned to me. “The reviews were terrible.”

“Witty and beautiful.” Fedrik regarded me with a lifted brow. “You might be dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased. “I’ll spare you.”

“And merciful? We’re all doomed.”

“No.” Kane’s eyes narrowed at Fedrik, all humor gone. “Only you.”

That voice carried such lethal promise it sucked all the floral Peridot air out of the jungle and left the lot of us silent.

Fedrik only frowned. “Here, Wen, let me take those logs back to camp.”

I smiled primly to hide my grimace as I handed the logs to Fedrik.

“Wen?”Kane asked, voice dripping with distaste once Fedrik was out of earshot.

I bristled. “So?”

“So it sounds like a name for a horse.”

I stared at him dryly. “Bird is a literal animal.”

“Fair point.” A grin curled his lips.

“He’s nice,” I admitted. “He doesn’t look at me with pity.”

Kane’s face fell as he brushed one hand absently across his chest. He needed to put his shirt back on immediately. I turned from his broad shoulders—that muscled, tanned chest gleaming—and walked stiffly until I sat myself beside the crackling hearth.

I could have used a cold plunge myself.

---

We hadn’t needed the fire for warmth given the balmy heat of the jungle even once the sun had set, but Griffin roasted his fish over the open flame, and after, we washed supper down with tea and ale. Mari made sure the protective ward was twice as strong before we let the fire build. Its brightness within the dark jungle would have been a dead giveaway to unwanted guests.

“When we arrive at Reaper’s Cavern,” Kane continued as we ate, “I think Arwen should stand guard outside.”

The fish soured on my tongue. “What? Why?”

Kane didn’t look at me as he addressed the others. “Just while we ensure some precautionary measures are in place.”

“Why?” I asked again pointedly.

“The cave is said to be inescapable.” His voice was cool, but his eyes gave away the gravity of his words.

“Lore says you’ll go mad before you find your way out,” Mari added.

A cold sweat broke out across my neck. When Kane snarled softly at her, she shot me an apologetic look.

“I intend to mark our trail as we go, as to never lose our way,” he continued. “I’d just like to make sure the cave will let me do so.”

“Let you?”

“It’s said to . . . have a mind of its own.”

Fantastic. Fantastic news. “What about everyone else?”

“I’m not too worried about a mortal legend affecting two Fae and a witch. And what happens to Fedrik is unimportant.”

Fedrik almost laughed at that one. I might have, too, if my heart wasn’t in my throat.

“But I am worried about you,” Kane continued. “And your aversion to enclosed spaces.” He wasn’t mocking. The warmth in his tone told me as much.

I knew he meant it. That he was worried about me, but—

It wasn’t just my fear. It was what he couldn’t say in front of Fedrik.

It was my value.

He couldn’t risk losing the prophesied full-blooded Fae before she could enact her destiny. Before she could die.

“No.”

“Arwen, it’s not—”

“No. I came with you to help.”

“Arwen,” Mari tried. “Even I don’t like the sound of a cave that traps all who enter. Let us just get inside and make sure we can get back out.”

“Does she have to go in at all? Could she stay at camp?” Fedrik asked.

“No, we’re just bringing her along with us for our own amusement,” Kane said. “Good one, right?”

Fedrik’s expression was humorless. Kane looked as though he felt similarly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I inhaled. “I spent my entire life being afraid. Sitting outside while the rest of you risk your lives . . . I’m not going to do that again.”

The loud hoot of an owl echoed through the trees to my right and Kane sipped from his mug. “Fine. Your coffin.”

All the air suctioned from my lungs and Mari squeezed my shoulder.

Prick.

“What will we use to mark our path?” Griffin asked.

“How about petals?” Fedrik offered, gesturing to a tangle of plumerias behind him.

Kane narrowed his eyes at the prince with such vitriol, it was almost awe.

“My magic,” Mari supplied. “I can leave a trail of light to guide us back.”

I felt my lungs expand. That was reassuring—a light to lead us out of the darkness. I no longer wished to imagine all the ways tomorrow might result in my demise. I had a perfectly well-cooked fish on my plate and people beside me I enjoyed spending time with. As Dagan instructed, I would try to appreciate it while I had the chance.

I leaned back, rubbing my stomach. “This is surprisingly good.”

“I’m touched.” Griffin took a final bite before tossing his plate toward our packs. The resonant clang sent a frog hopping into the leaves beyond our camp.

“Was probably the lack of cod,” Fedrik added, shooting me a conspiratorial look. Clearly, he had heard my earlier conversation with Mari.

Mari grinned. “Exactly! Who likes cod?”

“Actually, I do,” Griffin said.

Mari rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

The firelight gleamed in Kane’s eyes. “Why didn’t you catch us any, then, Commander?”

I tried not to smile.

But Mari saved Griffin a response. “Why couldn’t we have stayed in Frog Eye?” She tried to nestle into a wide tree’s roots, curling her feet up underneath her, but couldn’t seem to get comfortable. “At an inn? With a mattress?”

“We’re enemies of the kingdom, witch,” Griffin said, kicking over an empty linen pack, which Mari slid between her back and the gnarled tree. “We can’t risk being seen by Amber soldiers.”

And the entire town, if not the whole kingdom, is likely peppered with sketches of my face that sayTraitor. I focused on Fedrik, examining the condensation on his metal mug. While I relished the fact that he had no idea who I was, he also had no idea how dicey this excursion was. Guilt and envy fought for dominance.

“Arwen could slice them to bits in a heartbeat,” Mari huffed to no one in particular.

“You know how to wield a sword?” Fedrik asked, impressed.

I blushed a bit. “Just the basics.”

“Don’t be modest, Arwen, your skills even impressed Griffin.” Mari dipped her head toward the commander in question.

Kane’s brows quirked up beside me. “When did you two train?”

“In Serpent Spring,” I said. “On the way to Peridot, the first time we came here.”

“She was better than I expected,” Griffin added, eyes dancing. “But I was faster.”

“Griffin said the same thing about the woman he tossed from his bed this morning,” Mari quipped.

I spun to face her. No way he had revealed anything so intimate, and to Mari, nonetheless.

“I’m kidding.” She smirked. “We all know Griffin’s never touched a woman.”

Laughs erupted around the campfire. Even a wisp of a smile cracked at the corner of Griffin’s mouth.

“The witch is welcome on every one of my doomed adventures,” Kane said, wiping a hand down his face to quell his laughter. Mari gave him a look that said, Lucky me.

My heart stirred with warmth. Maybe their friendship didn’t bother me as much as I had previously thought.

“You know,” Kane said to me, under his breath. “If you ever wanted, I could show you how to beat him at his own game.”

“Who, Griffin?”

“Or anyone who has a bit of experience on you.” His quicksilver eyes gleamed in filtered moonlight, as if it was drawn solely to him, like the rest of us were. “I’m not as good as Dagan, but I’m here, if you’d like the help.”

“Thank you.” I swallowed, our détente feeling slippery and new. “Maybe another time.”

Kane gave me a subtle nod of his head, but his eyes were solemn.

“I never thanked you for letting Trevyn live,” I added, the words serving as my own olive branch. “For letting me let Trevyn live.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” he admitted, eyes focused on the rim of his tin cup. “He was harmless, we weren’t going to be in Citrine long . . . I didn’t think I’d stay up nights worrying that Trevyn would be the one to get you.”

“Do you do that? Stay up nights worrying about who will get me?”

His silence was like a knife to the heart.

“You brought a lute?” Griffin said to Fedrik. My eyes cut up to see the prince rooting through his pack.

“I thought it might help to pass the time,” Fedrik said, pulling the instrument out. “But I’m not very good.”

“Kane is,” I announced. “He’s exceptional.” I thought back to the night in his quarters when I was sick with fever and he strummed me a melancholy lullaby.

Mari whirled to face him. “No . . . You? Have a hobby?”

A dark rumble of a laugh spasmed out of Kane. “Yes, but it’s been a long time.”

“Play a song for us, please,” I asked him. I had meant it to be bratty, playful, but it came out so sincere I was almost embarrassed.

Kane’s gaze was like liquid heat, and he stood without another word and strolled over to Fedrik.

“May I?”

Fedrik handed him the wooden instrument and Kane sat back down next to me.

He strummed tentatively at first, his large hands still finding purchase on the strings. His rings were near luminous in the firelight, especially the silver and onyx signet that always graced his left pinky. Those hands continued to move and then halt, testing chords and tuning strings, until finally the music took on a rhythmic cadence. A gentle, melodic song weaved through the balmy night, a symphony among the crickets and bats and croaks of frogs. I could feel Kane’s notes in my bones, like a story I knew word for word.

I studied Kane’s concentrated face, his soft yet focused brow, as his deft fingers played a tune I thought might have been about rolling hills and birdsong the day after a horrible storm. About forgiveness and rebirth.

I had probably just had too much ale.

But nobody spoke while he played. And when the song ended, and none of us uttered a word, he played another. This one more of a bright and joyful jaunt that conjured images of dancing and clinking glasses and spilled liquor. And after that another, and another. I fell asleep to the sound of Kane’s lute, my head against the indulgent moss of the forest floor.