The Nameless Heir, page 24
But then she wasn’t afraid of what he was, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
Ronen was quite certain he did not like Fallon. She was a little too … fiery. Not the kind of fire that warmed up the room, but the kind that burned your house down if left unattended. It was probably more of the fact she was the first woman to ever give him the time of day. Plus, after seeing her in action, she was the kind of person he wanted on his side. She was doubtlessly crazy and lacked most manners, but you would be a fool to go against her.
Elowen was a completely different story. Once she warmed up to him, she was what Ronen imagined a sister would be. At first it appeared like she preferred to stay in the background, but Ronen learned she just blended with the natural world so seamlessly you forgot she wasn’t a flower. She floated as a breeze through the cave, putting out all the fires Fallon started. He knew there was so much more to her than just a beautiful face. But Fallon protected her so fiercely, Ronen feared she would unintentionally shield her from all the good parts of the world, too.
It actually frightened him how often Elowen just seemed to appear when he was upset. Even this morning, she had walked in on him staring absently into the mirror on his desk. Well, it had been a mirror before Ronen put his fist through it. The ghost servants cleaned up the shards on the ground, but there was no putting it back together. With all the cracks and missing pieces, all that stared back at Ronen was a frown and one blue eye.
Elowen tapped lightly on the wall, making him jump in surprise. “Ronen? Your breakfast is getting cold,” she said gently from the doorway.
“It’s morning already?” he asked, shaking the thoughts from his head.
She timidly entered the room and sat down on the opposite end of his bed, holding her hands in her lap. “Did you have trouble sleeping?” she asked. Her bare feet swung nervously, toes barely grazing the floor.
Ronen did not want to bother her with his thoughts. “I guess so, but that’s normal for me.”
“Is lying normal for you, too?” she asked quietly.
He could not help but chuckle at her bluntness. “It wasn’t always. I think I’ve changed. Or maybe I’ve always felt this way and was just too distracted to notice,” he said.
“I changed too,” she said after a moment. “I get nightmares sometimes. It all started when I woke up after Fallon saved me from shade-poisoning. I think there’s a little black dot still inside of me,” she said, placing a hand over her heart.
When he said nothing, Elowen scooted closer and placed her hand on his heart. “I think you have a little black dot too. Have you ever been poisoned?”
His skin erupted in goosebumps where her hand touched. “Yes.”
She nodded. “It must be a marking of some kind, like a scar on the skin. I’m sorry that happened to you, Ronen. You didn’t deserve it, you don’t belong there,” she said. A single sentence, but it touched his lifelong deprivation of sympathy.
Ronen caught a glimpse of his eye in the mirror. Cold, solid blue. “How do you know?”
“Because it hurt you,” she said simply. “And the sun healed you, just like me and every other Lysserah Faerie. I think you have been spending too much time with that black dot.” she said, jabbing her finger into the center of his chest.
“Alright, you might have a point.” He laughed. “What about you? What are you going to do with your black dot?” he asked in return.
She thought for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration. Elowen must have been around six or seven when the Entrance Tree was locked. How had a young Hulder ended up on the wrong side?
“Fallon says warriors slay their demons,” she said quietly.
“Well, what does Elowen say?”
She finally looked at him. She truly was the most stunning Hulder he had ever seen. “I think … I think I’m going to take care of mine,” she said at last.
Even now as he walked through the trees, Ronen was still thinking of her words. The darkness had left a permanent fingerprint on her soul, and she wanted to keep it safe. Treat it as her own. Perhaps Ronen had done himself a disservice by tossing away and hating every broken part of him. No one wanted to help that little boy at the orphanage; the fangless one with mismatched eyes and round ears. Maybe he could hold his own hand. The older, somewhat-wiser Ronen had plenty of advice for that boy.
He was on his third lap around a small grove of trees, swatting away Anthousai as they flew around his head and through his hair. The pesky flower Faeries giggled like bells, whispering among themselves.
The flashes of color and the buzzing of their insect-like wings was giving him a headache. Ronen was just about ready to take off his boot and—
A loud scream echoed through the valley, sending the Faeries zipping into the trees.
Elowen.
Ronen ran. Luckily, he had not strayed too far. As he neared, he saw Elowen and Elma standing at the shoreline. They seemed unharmed but when he got closer, he saw one unoccupied pair of brown boots lying in the grass. Of course she was the problem.
“What happened?” he asked, whipping his head in every direction. There were no Centaurs, no Merrows, no Valdyr or any sign of danger. It was actually quite pretty.
Elowen went to her knees, frantically splashing her arms around in the water. “Let her go!” she shrieked.
Ronen had to pull her back so she did not fall in. He turned to Elma, but the old woman was consumed by shock. “Elma! What happened?” he asked again.
But her eyes were transfixed at her feet, where a travel-sized black cauldron had appeared. “I don’t understand, it’s as if they thought she was …” she trailed off, staring at the yellow liquid.
Ronen was officially irritated at the lack of explanation going on. He grabbed Elowen’s shoulders and made her look at him, her pale green eyes were wide with fear. “Where is Fallon?” he asked, taking time to enunciate each word.
Snot dripped down her nose as Elowen gulped down her sobs. “I can’t swim,” she whispered.
He turned back to the cove, his blood running cold. Far out, he could see bubbles erupting on the surface—they took her. Fallon was going to drown. He was going to watch her die. No, Ronen was going to let her die if he didn’t do something.
The water seemed to stare back up at him in challenge. Ronen had no powers, no magic, and no advantage. He wanted to spit in the water and walk away. Walk far, far away from that useless Nøkken inside of him.
I think I’m going to take care of it.
Maybe he was done bullying himself into submission. Maybe he was done shattering the already broken pieces just to feel sorry for himself.
Ronen carefully set down a screaming Elowen. He did not think, care, or consider the consequences before he dived in.
As it turned out, Ronen also did not know how to swim. Luckily it was a lot easier than he thought. In fact, pushing his way through the water was even easier than running as he made his way towards the disturbance in the water.
At first, all he could see was a tornado of bubbles, seaweed, and fins. Merrows were much larger than Fae, mostly because of their long tails. From the waist down was a fish’s tail covered in purple scales, and from the waist up they were somewhat human. They each had different lengths of green hair, but they all had those angular, pure white eyes with no pupils or mercy.
He saw her. She was surrounded with four Merrows pulling her down with their webbed hands. Fallon was putting up an admirable fight, kicking and thrashing with all she had. Ronen rose to take one last breath before diving down.
They were deep enough that the pressure on his body made his eyes start to bulge. Fallon’s movements became slower, as the last bit of air must be leaving her lungs. Ronen mentally called out to her, begging her to look up as he clawed his way through the water toward her.
By some miracle, she did. Strings of blood floated around her from where the Merrows had scratched at her skin and bit her with their mouth full of fangs. The sight angered him, enough to waste at least thirty seconds of air by shouting, “Stop!” into the water.
To everyone’s surprise, the Merrows let go. They turned to him and made a strange hissing noise. He watched the gills on their necks open and close twice before they darted off, waving their long bodies through the water with unnerving speed.
He was almost there. He kicked and kicked, now completely upside down as he dived for her.
Fallon reached her hand up towards him, but her legs stopped kicking. The world around them moved in slow motion. It seemed as if the closer he got, the farther she sank. Her chest began to heave, taking in water.
Fallon’s hair rose around her face like a fiery halo as she locked eyes with him. From above, sunlight broke through the water sending fractals of light across her freckled face. He was only a hand’s length away as a beam caught her eye, illuminating the golden fibers in her iris so they glowed.
The water around him iced over, freezing them in time.
His mind flashed back and forth between the face before him, and the face he had seen weeks ago in the throne room: the queen made of stained glass. That’s why Fallon always seemed so familiar to him—they were practically twins.
Finally, his hand closed on hers and time started again. Ronen’s body was on autopilot as he pulled them up. His heart pushed against his chest so powerfully he thought it might burst.
They broke the surface. Ronen pulled her in and used his arm to squeeze Fallon until she started to cough. She was a useless lump of soggy hair and muscle as he paddled them towards the sound of Elowen’s shouts.
The Hulder was waist-deep in the water waiting for them. She let out a sob as she helped him drag Fallon onto the shore. They were both gasping for air as they flopped onto the grass. Elowen held back Fallon’s hair as she spent a good minute hacking up water, but Ronen was motionless. He just stared at her. How had he not seen it earlier? And more importantly, what on Ondorr did it mean?
Fallon wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to Elma, seething with rage. “Is that what you call curiosity, witch?” she screamed, her voice raw. Ronen swore he saw steam rising from her head.
Elma smiled nervously. “Did you get the lemons?”
Fallon made a face of disbelief. She rummaged through her pockets, angrily tossing one at the ground with each word: “Damn. You. All.”
She took a few full breaths, and some of the color returned to her lips. Fallon turned towards him, giving him a low nod.
“But not you,” she corrected.
Every time she looked at him, all Ronen could see was those glowing eyes …
“Ronen?” Fallon slowly got to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
She took a few steps forward, but Ronen crawled backwards in fright. It didn’t make any sense. It was impossible.
“Fal … Fallon, you look exactly like the dead queen: Asta Alfrothul.”
One name, and Fallon was drowning again.
Her chest collapsed at the sound of the name she thought only existed in her mind. Fallon felt like they were all moving impossibly slow, each breath lasting an eternity longer than the last.
Ronen just stared at her. His face was slack with fear and surprise—fear of her. Little did he know, she was just as terrified of him in this moment. Elowen and Elma went quiet, why was everyone so quiet? It left room for the word to echo through her soul: Asta, Asta, Asta.
Fallon approached him tentatively, and thankfully Ronen did not run away this time. He only flinched as Fallon reached forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, ignoring their soggy clothes slapping together and the smell of fish.
“I cannot remember the last time I heard another person say my mother’s name,” she whispered. Then, she laughed. She laughed as her body quivered with emotion. Asta had truly existed.
“Uh, Elma …” he patted her back gently. “I think I broke Fallon.”
Everyone laughed as the tension drained from around them. Ronen turned pink as a radish as she pulled away. She used her thumb to move the brown hair sticking to his face so she could see his eyes: striking blue and chestnut brown.
Yes, it should be impossible for Ronen to know her name. She should be questioning why he put queen in front of it. But Fallon did not want to worry about that right now. For just one, ephemeral breath, she wanted to savor the fact that she was not the sole carrier of her mother’s memory.
But Ronen did not share her endearment. “Your mother? The one you told me was dead? But that … that means you—you’re Elphyne’s lost princess,” he whispered in awe. Then, his face iced over. “That means you’re Fae.”
A month ago, when Jaeger had told her just about the same thing, Fallon denied it. A part of her still wanted to. Fallon always knew her mother had been special, so hearing she was Fae made sense. But a queen of an entire realm …
Fallon felt all her blood pool at her feet. “But that can’t be true.” She shook her head. Fallon turned to Elma. “It must be a coincidence. My mother would have told me if she were a bloody queen! She would have taken me here. She—Asta would never leave me with Beowulf all this time! Her name was Asta Solveij, and I was Fallon Solveij. Not Alfrothul,” she insisted, struggling to even say the strange surname.
Fallon refused to believe it, but her heart broke with every word. All the comfort and glee she felt only moments ago melted off of her, exposing her raw, untreated wounds.
The grim expression Elma gave her only made Fallon feel worse. “Alfrothul was her maiden name, child. Before she married your father.”
“No!” Fallon shouted, loud enough to make Elowen jump. “I don’t believe you.”
Fallon had to sit down. She rubbed her eyes and chewed on her knuckles as it all came together. Fallon might have finally found the missing part of the puzzle; the reason behind all of Asta’s strange behaviors.
Elma’s bottom lip wobbled. “I must finish my work here, then we will go back to the cave and speak. I didn’t wish it to happen this way,” she said in a distressed tone.
“You knew?” Fallon asked dangerously. She began to tremble so violently the water was shaken from her hair. “Since the Entrance Tree you knew, didn’t you? That’s why you’ve always treated me differently?”
The old woman with heartbroken eyes nodded slowly. She turned to Ronen, who had been standing back quietly. “Please, help me pour this so we can go,” Elma asked.
He was staring daggers at Fallon. He needed to be careful, she was really in the mood to hit something. Ronen walked past her with a cold shoulder as he and Elma lifted the cauldron and poured the contents into the water.
Elowen sat down in front of Fallon and grabbed her hands. “You can talk to me,” she said.
She did not know where to start. She rocked back and forth, blinking away every tear that came, never letting one touch her cheek. “I only saw my mother for weeks at a time. Then, she would leave for a month or two. She said she was taking care of foreign business, as was her duty. But if she was here … if she truly came to Elphyne during that time, that means she chose to leave me behind.”
After an entire winter came and went when Fallon was nearing the age of five, she knew something was wrong. Her mother missed many parts of her life, but she never missed one of her birthdays. Yet she did that time and every year after.
Fallon came to accept that Asta had died. Maybe in an enemy clan ambush or a tragedy in travel. Asta must have died, because Fallon refused to believe her mother would just leave her with Beowulf when she knew damn well how he treated her.
But she did. “If my own mother left me to die when she could have saved me, how am I supposed to live with that?” she muttered. Fallon squeezed her legs and pulled her hair. She was too aware of the grass under her, too aware of the drop of water sliding down her calf and the saliva in her mouth. Fallon needed to leave. She wanted to turn all her senses off and just take a break from existing.
Elowen scooted closer and shook her head. “There’s always more to the story, Fallon.”
“No.” Fallon stood up. “No. She didn’t want me here. If she left me with Beowulf, then that was her final wish,” she said coldly. Fallon started off towards the cave. She needed to grab what little things she had and pack a bag for her trip back to the Entrance Tree.
Luckily, no one bothered to stop her. The path they took here was simple enough to trace back, and soon the Longback Knolls came into view. Her fingers cramped from being clenched into fists for so long, and her skin was raw and sensitive from being rubbed against her damp clothes. But the pain and discomfort were the only thing keeping her present in the moment, otherwise Fallon would be spiraling down, down, down. Towards all the ruins inside of her. Where she would find nothing but ashes, rust, and a forbidden power chained inside a box.
The harder she tried to run away from the truth, the closer it became. But why Beowulf? Why Barwyn? It was as if she was trying to escape everything Elphyne was. Escape being queen …
Fallon felt so trapped in her own mind and body, she might have walked straight into the ocean and never noticed. But something caught her attention. Something that tugged on her instincts, making her stop at the base of the mountain.
“Fallon?” Elowen asked as they caught up with her. “What’s the matter?”
She turned to Elma. “Someone else is here.” She didn’t know how she knew it, but she could smell the past. Someone had walked right here, not that long ago.
Surprisingly, a long smile spread on the woman’s face. She hiked up her robes and hurried up the trail like a giddy young girl.
Fallon held her arm up to her friends. “Stay here, I’m going to check—”
Ronen forcefully shoved past her. “You’re not in charge of me.”
She reached out and grabbed the back of his collar, pulling him back behind her. He tried to fight, but she kept her grip and pressed her forearm into his neck. “But I’m in charge of her. You stay behind me, Nøkken, so at least she can run while they’re busy breaking your bones,” she hissed.
