The Lost God, page 8
The two styles of fighting were very different. Guardians were, as their name suggested, protectors of the witches of the kingdom and the royal family. Hunters were spies, trackers, ghosts who haunted the forests of Olney, waiting for their unsuspecting Argarian counterparts. They moved in shadows and acted as the foot soldiers of the army, able to work as a unit or a brutal solo weapon.
It was easy to see the differences in their fighting styles just by watching them. Guardians with their careful strategic battle plans and defensive moves, trained to protect a moving point. Hunters trained to be a weapon of swift death—all attack and little defense.
“Since when is that slumming it? I don’t know what I want. I’m just intrigued,” Cecilia said.
“I’ve intrigued my way up quite a few skirts myself, Cece. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”
“No one is getting up my skirt.” He relaxed a bit, so she added, “Unless I want them to.”
It was worth it to see his relief die a quick death.
“Cecilia!”
“You’re not the only one who deserves some fun, Rain.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Cecilia frowned. “Being your buffer for the last few years has taught me plenty. I have my eyes wide open. Not everything has to mean something. I’m allowed to do something just because it’s fun.”
“You have little experience with men, and I know how they can be,” Rainer said.
Frustration boiled inside of her, stoked by the oppressive heat. Her thirst and exhaustion only made her more impatient with Rainer.
“When we get back from the Gauntlet, you’ll be able to do whatever you want. Sleep around or choose a wife—who becomes your property, by the way. But I’ll be expected to get married right away, and my ownership will pass from my father to my husband. What little freedom and choice I have will end with the Gauntlet. This is my last chance to mess around, to make my own mistakes. I’ve spent the last couple of years helping you have fun—at times, more than you can handle. I’m not even asking for your help. I’m just asking for you not to be such a judgmental ass about it. As my friend, I thought you would want that for me. If I want to kiss some hunter in a dark garden, who are you to say anything about it but ‘Good for you, Cece, you deserve some godsdamn fun!’”
He stared at her in stunned silence. “You’re right. You do deserve some fun. I just worry you’ll get your heart broken.”
She rolled her eyes. “My heart has nothing to do with this.”
Rainer ran a hand through his hair. “I want to meet him.”
“Absolutely not.” She laughed. “Rain, remember last year when I made out with Kyle Brennan, and then you beat the crap out of him at training? None of the guardians would go near me for months afterward. I couldn’t even get anyone to dance with me. You’re way too overprotective. I wanted to make out with Kyle, and you scared him off.”
“He was trouble.”
“Kyle was a perfect gentleman.”
Rainer arched an eyebrow. “I doubt that.”
Cecilia giggled. Kyle hadn’t been a gentleman at all, but she hadn’t wanted him to be. Rainer showed up at her cottage before she could do anything more than kiss him. She suspected that was why Rainer had done such a number on him. Rainer played it off as a frustrating day, but when Kyle came and apologized to her out of the blue, with his face bruised and swollen, she knew.
“I didn’t want you to get a reputation, and Kyle’s not exactly discreet.”
“A reputation for what? Being fun?” Cecilia taunted.
“You know what I mean.”
“Plenty of witches do much worse than I did with him.”
“Yes, but I’m not in charge of them,” Rainer said.
She shook her head. “You’re in charge of keeping me safe.”
“From any and all threats.”
“And should I protect you from the lips of all the ladies at court?” she asked.
“It’s not your job to protect me.”
“Yes, it is. It’s the part of our vows that everyone pretends doesn’t exist. Your job is to keep me alive, but I’m also supposed to protect you. We’re supposed to be a team. All of this to say, I don’t think I want you to meet my hunter.”
“So now he’s yours?” Rainer asked.
“He’s a mystery. I’m going to figure it out when I get back.”
“I could help,” Rainer suggested.
“No. Definitely not,” she said firmly.
Rainer frowned. “Cece, if you’re going to be seeking marriage prospects, you’ll have to be careful about how things look.”
“Why is that a standard only applied to women of the court? Why don’t you have to worry about your reputation?”
“I’m not saying it’s fair, but it’s the reality.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” She sighed.
Rainer looked perplexed. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t encourage her to embrace her last small bit of freedom before being tied to a stranger for life.
“How many women have you been with?” she asked.
Rainer was so surprised by the question he nearly fell off his horse.
“We should stop for the day soon. The horses probably need to rest,” he said.
“Don’t change the subject. You’ve never actually told me.”
“I don’t think we should talk about this.”
She persisted. “How about you just tell me if I’m close? Five?”
“Cece—”
“Ten?” Her eyebrows shot up as she turned to look at him again.
He blushed. “I’m not going to—”
“Twenty! Good gods, Rain. I knew you’ve been busy, but that’s a lot.”
“I will not talk about this with you,” he said.
“Why not?”
Rainer tightened his grip on Zeke’s reins. “Because I… I don’t know. It’s not appropriate.”
“But sleeping in my bed every night is the height of propriety?”
He sighed. “We do nothing but tell stories and sleep.”
“It’s still not allowed,” Cecilia said. “Especially for a rule follower like yourself.”
“I don’t like being away from you. How can I keep you safe if I’m not there?”
“Is that all just a convenient way to keep me from bringing anyone else to my bed?”
Rainer smirked.
“Oh my gods! Is it?”
Rainer laughed. “No, it’s not. I just like being there. I like story time. I like falling asleep knowing you’re safe.”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach. She was completely surprised by the words, and even if her brain knew he meant as her friend, her heart didn’t care.
Rainer grinned at her. “Rare that you’re speechless.”
“I like falling asleep knowing you’re safe, too. But it begs the question: If you sleep in my bed every night, when are you finding the time to bed all these other ladies?”
“Gods, Cecilia! You are so stubborn.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“Is it?” he asked with obvious annoyance.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love it. Give me a range at least,” she insisted.
Rainer sighed heavily. No good would come from this, but she wouldn’t drop it. “Probably not as many as you think.”
“You always make it seem like a lot. You make such a point of mentioning who you’re currently pursuing,” she said.
“That doesn’t mean I’m always successful or that I want to be.”
Anxiety buzzed on both sides of their connection, as if they both knew this was dangerous territory.
“Then why am I saving you from awkward interactions with someone new every other week?” Cecilia asked.
“Because most of the ladies of the court want something I can’t give them.”
He shut down the connection between them so she couldn’t read him. She wanted to push, but she’d already led him well outside his comfort zone.
“How do you turn off the caring?”
Rainer smiled knowingly, as if he’d expected that very question. “I just do. I’m not like you. It’s easier for me to shut that down. You feel everything. I know you like to play tough, but I think you would have a hard time having a casual relationship. That’s why I worry about you.”
“You don’t know everything about me, Rain.” Her voice turned sulky.
“The way you feel everything is beautiful. I think it’s actually really grown up, but I worry about you getting your heart broken by someone who doesn’t know how special you are. I know how the other guardians are, and I sure as shit know how the hunters are. You’re beautiful and talented and smart, and I trust your judgment, but I’ll always worry about you.”
She tried not to feel thrilled at the words. “I can handle myself.”
“I know.” He pulled back on the reins, bringing Zeke to a stop.
She drew Little Ghost up next to Zeke. They were in an area more open than they usually camped out in. It was a hillside open to the path below. A copse of birch trees stood at the top of the hill, but rather than tuck themselves in there for cover, they set up on the side of the hill so they could watch the Summer Firestorm meteor shower, an annual tradition.
After dinner, as darkness closed in, Rainer lay down beside Cecilia, looking up into the night sky. Once their eyes adjusted, the sky illuminated with shooting stars. Cecilia couldn’t stop staring at the stunning array of lights. In all their time in the wild, they’d seen so many wondrous things—glorious winter sunrises, gorgeous mountains, sparkling caves, and sandy beaches. But the Summer Firestorm meteor showers were her favorite.
“Do you think we get multiple wishes or just one?” Rainer asked, breaking the silence. He blindly reached for her hand, folding it into his.
“I think just one good one,” Cecilia said.
She kept her eyes on the heavens so she wouldn’t look down to where their hands intertwined or over at his handsome face and want more than he could give her. She wondered what he was feeling from her through their connection at that moment.
“What will you wish for?” he asked, his gaze burning into her.
“You know I won’t tell you, or it won’t come true,” Cecilia said. “I never tell you. Why do you ask every year?”
“I don’t know. I just want to know what goes on in your head. How about this—is it a new wish or an old wish?” Rainer asked.
She thought about it.
A new wish could be for more time, more freedom. She could wish for the power to make her own choices—to choose adventure, or romance, and not feel guilty for putting her own wants above what was expected of her for once.
Or she could go with her old wish. The one she usually settled on. The same one she’d wished every year since she was old enough to know what lived in the quiet of her heart. She could wish for Rainer—to have his heart, to give him hers. It was a silly, foolish wish, but wishes were supposed to make people believe in impossible magic.
“I think maybe a new one,” Cecilia whispered.
Rainer’s thumb ran over the inside of her wrist. She closed her eyes, basking in the sensation. She wasn’t sure if he’d started doing it because he thought it would soothe her, or if she found it soothing because it was something he did all the time. It had become so habitual that she clasped her hands and rubbed her own wrist whenever she was nervous and alone.
“What about you?”
“I think it’s going to be a new one this year,” he said.
She felt his gaze, even with her eyes closed.
A surge of emotion flowed through their bond, and her eyes snapped open, meeting his. She sensed something that usually originated on her side of the connection. She knew it well because it was the same thing she held back every time she looked at him, every time he was close, every time he touched her hand, or brushed hair out of her face, or tucked her in at night.
Rainer felt a longing so strong Cecilia nearly mistook it for her own. There was no way to know what it was for. Maybe for the open road. Maybe for a bigger life. In the back of her mind, the tiny nagging voice of hope wouldn’t let her let go of the thought that it might be longing for her.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Cecilia felt as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff, about to step off into free fall. Her stomach dipped. Look away, Cece, just look away. She tried to make herself break eye contact first, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to stop looking at her like he’d rather see her than a stunning meteor shower.
The buzz of crickets chirping around them grew louder. Rainer abruptly looked back at the stars.
“I win,” Cecilia whispered.
“What do you win?” Rainer laughed breathlessly.
“The staring contest you sprung on me.”
She hated herself for making light of the moment. She was quick to dispel any awkwardness between them, never forcing him to explain. Cecilia was constantly tending to their friendship like it was hers alone to care for.
Another swipe of Rainer’s thumb on her wrist settled her mind. They lay in silence for a while.
“I have a different wish I’ll share with you,” Cecilia whispered. Rainer looked over at her again, but she kept her eyes on the sky. “I wish I could remember all the stories we’ve made up over the years. They aren’t all winners, but I fall asleep in the middle of them a lot, so they aren’t all locked in my mind. I wish I had them to go back to.”
Rainer’s grin grew wide. “I was going to wait until your birthday to tell you, but I may as well just tell you now. I’ve been writing them down. Not all of them, but just over the last few years. When I got up at dawn every day, I went back to my place and wrote. On nights when we were on the road, I wrote it down while I was awake on watch.”
She turned to look at him. “Are you serious?”
Rainer looked suddenly self-conscious. “Yes. Is that stupid? I thought maybe it would be a good gift—that you might want to remember some of the stories or that maybe someday you would want to read them to your kids.”
She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.
“Okay, it’s stupid. I should’ve thought of something else—”
“No, it’s not stupid,” Cecilia whispered. “I just can’t believe you wrote them all down. That’s such a sweet gift.”
He blew out a breath. “You like it?”
“I love it. It’s perfect.”
“Happy early birthday, Cece. I’ll give it to you when we’re back home.”
She looked back up at the stars. “I want to keep this memory. Will you share yours with me?”
It had been a while since she’d asked to keep one.
“When you copy one of my memories, does it come with my thoughts? I never thought to ask before,” he mumbled. A hint of nervousness buzzed through their connection.
“No, they don’t come with thoughts, just feelings and smells and sounds and vision. Think about when I share a memory with you,” she whispered.
She practiced a lot with Rainer when she first learned how to use her power, but now her sharing was fewer and farther between. He knew she liked to capture her favorite things from him so they would have a complete memory with his side and hers.
“Okay,” he said.
She took his hand. She pressed against his mind, and he let her in. They watched the memory play out, and when it finished, she squeezed his hand.
“Thank you.”
They looked at each other for a long moment.
“It’s your turn to start the story tonight,” she finally whispered.
Rainer launched into a story about a village where it rained stars for one night every year, and all who lived there collected them in jars so they would have them anytime they needed to make a wish.
As she listened, Cecilia wondered what it would be like to feel that full of hope and promise. She imagined having a jar full of wishes she could count on coming true and what she would ask for if she did.
7
Three caves and one week later, Cecilia stood in front of yet another Gauntlet cave, staring into a whole different darkness. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes on the wildflowers that framed the cave mouth, bending away from the abyss within.
“What’s wrong?” Rainer asked.
She wordlessly filed through her grimoire of memories. Though nothing appeared wrong with the cave, the magic that pulsed from within felt strangely stagnant. Most of the cave magic felt like it was reaching for her, like it was something that belonged to her. This cave just felt sluggish and heavy.
Finally, her magic snagged on a suspension spell.
Cecilia gasped and took a step back. “It’s a trap.”
Rainer was so eager to stand between her and danger that he stepped right into it. His eyes went wide as he tried to move and found himself frozen.
“Don’t panic. I’ll pull down the enchantment in a moment and you’ll be able to move again,” she whispered.
Spellwork differed from summoning in that any witch with any affinity could practice it. It simply required knowing the words to the enchantment and making a worthy exchange for the cost of it.
Cecilia’s natural affinity benefitted her in that she could easily sort through memories of spells she’d learned and find the right one with ease rather than needing to carry a physical grimoire. As long as she had the memory of reading or learning a spell, she could undo it as well. She focused on the memory in her mind and watched the spell play out, then she opened her eyes and set about doing the spell in reverse to pull it down.
Though blood was her exchange of choice for the Gauntlet since her memory magic felt more like something that channeled through her body, spellwork felt more external, so she preferred to exchange herbs or her hair since she had such a wealth of it. She unbound her hair and cut off a lock in offering, closing it in her fist as she recited the words to the spell in reverse. After several painstaking moments, the enchantment released, and she felt the familiar surge of normal Gauntlet magic from within the cave. Rainer sagged in relief, finally able to move again. Cecilia opened her palm and found nothing but ash, which she shook into the dirt at her feet.
