Citadel of Fire (The Ronin Saga Book 2) (12 page)

“I’m not sure…” Darius
answered, squirming in
his black vest. “For a flickering moment, I just saw this thing floating in my mind, and I told it what to do.”

“…What sort of image do you see?” he asked cautiously.

He saw a haunted look in the rogue’s eyes. “I see a leaf.”

Gray felt his heart stop for a moment. Life, curiosity, and excitement pounded in his veins. “A leaf?”

Darius shivered, looking away. “Perhaps I should leave you to get some rest.” he said and rose. “You’ve been out for a bit, but I’m sure you’re tired and you don’t need me jabbering in your ear about leaves and vines and—”

“—Darius,” he said, interrupting the rogue.

Darius paused. He looked at Gray curiously. Gray opened his mouth, and then hesitated. Using the ki, he delved into Darius. He felt guilty, like he was invading the rogue’s personal space, but he needed to know. What he felt surprised him, taking his breath. He felt strength and confidence, but beneath that—
terror
. It wasn’t just fear, but unadulterated dread and doubt, like a pool of boiling water beneath a thin layer of ice just waiting to crack. How was the rogue not shaking visibly? That, at the very least, took strength of will. Pulling away, he returned to his own body.
Why is he so afraid?
Gray wondered, and then he realized… Darius was terrified of what was inside of him.
Wasn’t that how I was?
The unknown. He’s scared of what he is and might be.
How can I possibly tell him?
No, maybe now wasn’t the time…

“I…”

“What is it, Gray?” Darius asked with a pale face, but his voice still remarkably strong.

He shook his head, “Nothing. Don’t go is all. I don’t need any more rest, and well… I could use your company.”

The rogue smiled. He didn’t need to use the ki to sense some of the fear and tension flee from Darius as he sighed, settling back down. And Gray understood. Already feeling confused and strange because of his new power, he didn’t want to be alone as well. Gray noticed that Darius was whittling something. “A new pipe?”

“My last one was stolen,” he declared.

Gray looked around. “Where’s Ayva?”

“Your girl went looking for more wood, at my request,” a calm, collected voice said.

Gray groaned, sitting up to see Faye approach. She no longer wore her dust cloak, he noticed. It was warm here—though a steady breeze rolled off of the nearby pond, cooling him.

Red hair like spun fire shook around her face as the woman laughed. It was feminine, but strong. “Funny girl, that one. She wouldn’t leave your side—not until I ordered her to, and she made me promise to burn this cursed arm, as well. Guess they both are like that,” she said, eyeing Darius. “What did you do to earn such loyalty?”

“Dice,” the rogue said. “We’re called
friends
. Don’t you have any?”

“Not really, no,” she said matter-of-factly.

Darius cleared his throat. “Well then…”

Gray drew their attention with a word. “Faye. About those questions.”

“Already, eh? You’re a man of business, I see.” She shrugged. “It’s no matter to me. I hold my word, and I promised peace, at least until I answered your burning questions. After that, however, I promise nothing. If I so desire, I can kill you and steal your friend to claim his Untamed bounty. Deal?”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

Darius snorted. “So much for friends.”

“You have too little faith in me, Darius,” said Gray.

The rogue guffawed, gesturing with his half-finished pipe. “Do I now? It doesn’t take a blademaster to see you’re exhausted, having spent every bit of your power and more. Besides, I already saw what happened to you when you
had
energy and fought her. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I’d have to agree with your friend’s assessment. It’s not too late to back out,” she said. “I’ll keep my word, either way.”

“It’s more a matter of my faith in you, Faye.”

“Equally foolish,” she replied.

“I’ve seen your heart,” he answered. “It’s not all bad.”

“But it’s not all good. How can you trust a speck of light amidst the darkness?”

He laughed, but it hurt his ribs.
Did I break something?
Gray wondered. No, but every bone and muscle hurt. Breathing alone was agony. “Don’t you see? The very fact that you’re arguing with me proves that you have at least some good in you.”

“Or I’m just argumentative and don’t like to be wrong. Besides, ‘some good’ means ‘a lot bad’,” she said, flipping her dagger in the air casually and catching it by the blade repeatedly.
Terus?
A memory whispered, showing a brief glimpse of clay streets and a dark game. He shook it off as Faye shrugged at last. “I’m done talking you out of it. It’s your choice either way. I care not. Questions are an easy price to pay for my life.”

“Then the bargain is struck,” he said.

“What bargain?”

Gray twisted and saw Ayva. He winced, knowing she would give him an earful or more if she knew what had just happened. Already, he saw the fire and anger that passed between the two women though they stood thirty paces apart.

“Oh, nothing. Gray just bargained our lives for a few measly questions,” Darius said, and then leaned back upon his elbows, a grin spreading.

Gray growled at Darius.
Great. Throw logs onto the fire then back away.

Ayva whispered, “You…
what?”

“You two are making too big a deal out of it, honestly. The deal was already set. We have a truce.”

“For now,” Faye said with emphasis, and then flipped her dagger and stuck it into a nearby Silveroot.

Ayva smoothed her riding skirts, tucking her dagger away in her leather belt, and then sat on a nearby log. “You’re a fool, Gray. But at least you’re a living fool. I don’t know how you moved us all out of that predicament, but it was truly something…”

Gray was listening, but only barely. He watched as Faye dug her dagger deeper until it found the tree’s vein. Suddenly sap poured out, flowing over her dagger, and then dripping into her cupped hands. When it was full, she neared him, and spoke in a gruff tone, “Sit up and drink this.”

He looked at her skeptically. “That… can’t be good for me.”

She raised a brow. “Oh, do you know more about Farhaven than I do? How long have you lived here exactly?” She smiled thinly when his words failed him. “That’s what I thought. I’m guessing you somehow crossed the Gates and, up until now, have only managed to survive by sheer dumb luck and the faintest bit of knowledge.”

“Don’t drink it,” Ayva said. “If that’s a silveroot tree, then that’s silver.”

Faye sighed. “It’s not silver. Well, not exactly. It’s a type of silver essence and—look, just drink it or don’t.”

He held Faye’s gaze, searching the truth in her eyes. There was no hint of deception. He debated asking her again and threading the spell of truth he’d done on the Gates—though the memory of how he’d done it was hazy—but everything told him she was telling the truth. At last, he nodded. She casually put her fingers to his lips, and he drank. She was cautious not to let a drop spill, and he gulped the cool liquid down. Over her shoulder, he saw Ayva flash him a curious glance, and he nearly let the sap spill. It was surprisingly sweet with a tart note, if a tad viscous. “That’s not half bad,” he said at last. As he said the words, he felt a strange vitality flow over him. His ribs that only a second before stung in agony with every small breath now only smarted. He took a huge lungful of air and felt almost no pain. “That’s… that’s a miracle.”

“No, it’s magic,” Faye said.

“It’s trickery is what it is—that’s a Silver—”

“Look, girl. I can put up with that fool walking into my trap and ruining my carefully laid plans, and even your friend presuming to understand my true intentions when he doesn’t, but I will not stand idly by as you attempt to lecture me on the natures of this world when you know nothing.” She ripped her dagger from the tree and rammed it back into its sheath.

Ayva’s lips drew into a tight line. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Faye repeated flatly.

“Try me,” Ayva said, standing straight, lifting her chin and looking down her freckled nose.

Faye snorted. “Fine. Have you all been getting a good night’s rest?”

“Not really,” Gray admitted.

“More or less,” Ayva said evasively.

“Not a wink. Like my bed is full of burs,” Darius chimed.

Ayva shot him a venomous look.

“And do you know why?” she asked.

“Because we are strained and stressed, traveling from sunup to sundown, that’s why,” Ayva answered. “It’s a wonder we sleep at all.”

“You’re a foolish girl indeed. And wrong. It’s because Farhaven is full of magic. We live longer and have fewer diseases. In the same way, we require less sleep. Your bodies have no idea how to adjust to it. You will acclimate hopefully with time. However, initially, most people sleep less and less, their bodies getting restless because they are overly sensitive. Others sleep more. So much so that they become addicted to the sleep and its satisfying effects. You can die by sleep in Farhaven.”

The notion was mind-boggling. He realized they had experienced the exact pattern that she had just described, and part of him wanted to stay awake forever.

“And
that
is one of the simplest symptoms in this land. If you thought you knew Farhaven, please realize that you
don’t
. They are just the foolish and likely misguided fancies of a little girl who reads too much and knows too little. Now move aside and let your friend ask his questions so he can be done with me, and I can be done with you,” Faye said sternly, pressing past Ayva, knocking her shoulder roughly. Ayva looked as if she’d been slapped, and hard. He couldn’t see her face, but her entire body practically quivered.

Gray swallowed, and he felt Darius’ tension beside him.

Ayva hesitated, but turned around. Her face was surprisingly smooth. She spoke, addressing him as if the woman at his side did not exist. “Gray, this woman seeks something… I promise you it is not to leave. She will be a thorn in our sides as long as she stays. So please ask your questions quickly so we can be rid of her.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

“Ayva!” he called, but she didn’t slow. He thought he saw her body shaking as she disappeared behind a tree.

Cursing, Darius rose and followed her.

“Did you really have to do that?” Gray asked.

Faye rolled her eyes heavily. “Was I wrong?”

“No, but you didn’t have to beat her down for her lack of knowledge.”

“That girl needed a dose of reality. You all do. I might have been a tad rough around the edges, but the truth is the truth. If she kept sauntering on with her eyes closed, she was destined to run straight off a cliff.”

He saw wisdom in almost everything Faye said, yet it was veiled in a kind of half-truth that ignored the feelings involved in the situation. “Ayva was right. You’re obviously shrewd, at least about this world, and so far, you’ve been true to your word, but you have no idea what empathy is.”

“And I have no need for it.”

“I believe that will cost you one day.”

She flicked a hand. “You presume too much
and
talk too much. Now ask your questions.”

Gray rose higher from his seated posture but grunted in pain
. I guess Silveroot isn’t a cure-all.
“What were you doing in the woods when we ran into you?” he asked.

“Hunting,” she replied, thinly.

“But what were you hunting?”

“Ah, a much better question. I was hunting a rare creature that resides only in Nodes. That darkness you saved us from, those creatures are called Darkwalkers. They require the spark to kill, a lot of it—”

He interrupted her, “But Darius said you killed one.”

“Or,” she continued, “Someone who knows exactly where to hit it. All creatures have a weak spot, even Darkwalkers. A quick cut or two to the area near where their heart should be sends them up in flames.”

“That doesn’t sound so hard.”

“One touch from a Darkwalker is death. They don’t even need to be strong or brutally savage, though they are. They hold a plague that feeds off the spark inside of us all.”

“But what if we don’t have the spark?”

She sniffed. “All beings have the spark. The only difference between someone like me and a Reaver is one can more easily manifest the spark, and some are simply stronger than others.”

Absently, Gray scratched his arm realizing it was healing
already.
As he listened to the nearby gurgling brook, he remembered something and looked at his bandaged arm. “That thing… it touched me, so how am I not dead?”