Minstrel's Serenade (30 page)

They reached the plateau and Danika gulped in the fresher air. The barren lava rock was no meadow, yet the sulfur-to-oxygen ratio was much lower than inside. Magma dripped from the plateau around them, creating red streaks down the lava rock. Large chunks of flaming rock spewed across the smoky sky. Dead wyverns lay in heaps around them, the lava melting their remains.

Bron scanned the terrain. “Where is my army?”

“I commanded them to leave and regroup by the boats.” Danika searched the lava rock for any sign of silver armor. “There!” She pointed to the far ridge where helmets peeked from the lava rock like silver spoons. “They escape as we speak.”

Bron glanced back at the opening as it filled with black smoke. He froze as if an invisible cord had snagged him and wouldn’t let him go.

Danika put both arms on his shoulders and shook him. “Valorian is dead, Bron. You are not going back for him. I need you with me.”

Bron blinked as if waking from a dream, then bent to find the rope he’d tied to hoist them up was still there. “Grab a hold of me!”

The mountain rumbled beneath them as Danika held on to Bron. Using his upper body strength, he lowered them down the rocky ledge. Lava flowed around them in red, orange and yellow streaks. Danika searched for any dry spot to land. “Over there. I see a clear path to the far ridge.”

Bron kicked against the rock and they dangled past a lava river to the other side.

“The rope will not reach. We’ll have to jump.” Bron maneuvered them closer to the clear area.

Danika steeled herself. If she could confront the She-Beast, she could jump over steaming lava. “I’m ready.”

Bron released the rope and they tumbled onto the rock. Danika skidded when she landed, rolling toward the lava. She flailed her arms and the skin on her fingers tore as she tried to grab a handhold. The molten red-orange came up quickly, burning her face from inches away. Bron reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “That was close.”

Danika breathed with relief. She sat up and scanned his body. His leg bent at a strange angle, making her heart stop. “Are you hurt?”

He unbent the leg, testing the muscles. “No. Are you?”

“Not yet.” Danika scanned the area around them. The lava rose quickly, blocking so many ways to escape. “We have to keep running.”

“I know.” Bron pulled himself up, looking wearier than a plow horse at the end of harvest season.

They leaped over streams of lava, working their way to the far ridge where the army had gone. The muscles in her legs screamed and ash covered the inside of her mouth until she could taste nothing except smoke and blood. Her lungs burned with each breath. She’d lost her sheepskin somewhere in the heart of the volcano, and Bron had nothing besides his sword.

“Just a little ways farther.” Bron must have seen her faltering. “Then we can slow down.”

Slow down? Danika wanted to lie down, curl up and forget the dreadful memory of Valorian’s voice calling to her to help. This time she’d slighted him to the death.

“Princess? Can you make it?”

“Aye.” She trudged ahead. The strength in Bron’s features carried her on. If she couldn’t force her body on for Ebonvale alone, then she’d do it for him.

They reached the ridge and disappeared into the crevice between the lava rocks, working their way to the other side of the island. The atmosphere rumbled with the volcano’s wrath and gray smoke covered the sky. Ash fell like snow around them, and their boots left imprints on the ground along the way.

Danika moved in a blur, feeling as though she wandered in an ashy neverland stretching on eternally. If it wasn’t for Bron, she would have fallen to her knees and collapsed, letting the ash cover her in a dry, heated grave. Hours passed, or maybe days. She couldn’t tell. The gray twilight endured and no sign of the sun or stars came through. The lava rock, the ash and Bron’s steady hand on her back remained constant.

The crashing of waves echoed from the distance, bringing Danika out of her trance. They’d reached the sea separating them from the first island. That meant one thing: the ships would be waiting for them with water and a soft bed. They’d be waiting to take them home.

“Look. The tide is out.” Bron jogged up ahead. “We can make it across.”

Danika stumbled forward, following his footsteps in the ash. This stroke of luck seemed too good to be true. Helena and Horred were on their side.

She reached the shore, wading into the water. The lava rocks protruded from the surface in haphazard steps to the peninsula. Bron offered his hand. “Come, I’ve found the best path.”

She followed him, allowing him to pull her up to the higher inclines. It took all her energy to hurl her weary body forward. The gray twilight darkened as they crossed. Night had come.

Panic rose inside Danika. Had the ships already left?

She grabbed Bron’s arm. “How many days?”

His shoulders slumped. Even the great warrior’s strength was failing. “What do you speak of?”

“How many days have we been gone?”

“Tomorrow will be the third day.”

“Is that all?” It seemed like forever ago they’d disembarked on their quest.

“Aye.”

“That means we have two more days to get back to the ship.”

“An easy task, Princess.” Bron reached the shore and sat on an outcropping of lava rock. He pulled off his boot and emptied the water from the heel. “It will take another day, if not less, to cross this island. Two people travel faster than an army.”

“Even without food and water?”

“That I can remedy.” Bron pulled off his helmet and set it down by the rock. Next, he unlatched his breastplate.

Danika blinked in shock. What was he doing? Had he lost his mind? This was not the time for romance. She’d said “water,” not his naked, hard body.

The metal clanged as the breastplate hit the ground. He pulled out a flask no bigger than his palm from the folds of his undershirt. He must have stuck it to his chest before he put the armor on.

Danika frowned in repulsion. “That’s for liquor.”

Bron smiled as though he knew she’d react in disgust. “Aye, but there’s none of that in mine. Many a battle I’ve fought when I’ve lost my sheepskin.”

He offered her the flask. “Try a sip.”

Danika took the smooth, silver flask in her hand. In a world where everything was covered in ash, soot and blood, the silver shone perfectly. She brought the rim to her lips and sipped. Water. Pure, fresh, untainted water. Her mouth reveled as the water flowed down her throat. Remembering to save some for him, she passed the flask back to him. Only then did she think she’d just put her mouth where he must have put his a hundred times.

It’s not like they’d never kissed.

Bron took the flask and brought the edge to his lips. After he drank, he closed the lid and slipped it back into his shirt. “We’ll rest here for a bit then walk throughout the night. We can reach the ship by dawn on the third day, just to be safe. That is, if you’re up to it?”

A ship with food, water and a soft bed? Did he have to ask? She nodded and sat across from him, stretching out her aching legs. “Aye.”

They sat in silence. After what had happened to Valorian, talking about anything else seemed trivial and disrespectful. She didn’t want to bring up the cave-in and, from the looks of it, neither did Bron. A heavy weight had fallen on his shoulders since he’d left that cave. Would Valorian’s death always be a thorn between them? Would it drive them apart?

The desire for comfort from his gentle touch came over her. She leaned against his arm. If she could borrow his strength just for a moment…

Bron pulled away, shifting on the rock to leave a hand’s width between them. “Use the ridge for your support.” A cold, unyielding resistance turned his voice to stone.

What had she done? By saving his life, she’d lost his love forever. Tears burned in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Valorian is dead.” Bron rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ve failed in my life debt to him.”

She turned toward him, but he avoided her gaze “You have not failed me.”

“I’ve failed Ebonvale. I’ve failed your father. And worst of all, I’ve failed you. If I hadn’t said how I felt on the ship, then you wouldn’t have sacrificed Valorian for me.”

A growling rumble like underground thunder came from behind them, followed by a series of loud explosions. Bron jumped to his feet and grabbed his helmet and breastplate. “We should start moving.”

Danika followed, though her whole body protested and their conversation was not over. She had to convince him Valorian’s death was not his fault. It was hers. She’d made the choice to save Bron and sacrifice Valorian. Somehow he had to believe it. Weariness and shock had stolen her reason, and the words to express herself could not come.

As night fell, the volcano’s wrath lit the sky with red fury. They used the bloodshot haze to find their path. Empty sheepskins, scorched travel bags and damaged weapons cluttered their path. They passed in the army’s footsteps. Some men had survived and waited for them at the ships.

Thoughts of the survivors comforted Danika in her grief for Valorian and the other men who’d lost their lives. Monks would utter their names for centuries to come and etch their likeness in the great temples. They were heroes of war, much like Helena and Horred, and now they stood with them in the place where time had no meaning.

Was Valorian at peace? Would he forgive her? She could only hope.

They passed the night, following the tracks of the soldiers to the other side of the island. As dawn broke, and the sun peeked from a smoky horizon, the masts of the
Destiny
and the
Fortune
claimed the coastline.

The crew, the soldiers and the minstrels clapped and cheered as Danika and Bron emerged from the ridge. Many had made it back to the ship. The sight brought tears to Danika’s eyes.

“Long live the Princess,” they chanted as Danika made her way to the ships. The chant grew until Bron joined in. He knelt by her feet and bowed to her. His gaze would not meet hers, and his voice fell lifeless from his lips. “My lady, you have triumphed over all.”

For Danika, it was a melancholy victory. They’d defeated the She-Beast and reduced the wyvern brood, but they’d lost so much. She’d lost so much. How could she return and tell Valorian’s father she’d sacrificed his son to save her bodyguard? How could she live without Bron’s love?

One of the minstrels broke from the crowd. He bowed before her with fear in his eyes. “Any word of Valorian?”

Danika shook her head and the crowd grew silent around her. She’d prepared a speech on the long trek back, smoothing over each word like a pirate held a treasured jewel. She’d speak of Valorian’s courage, his compassion, his determination to make Ebonvale and the House of Song safe. Lastly, she’d speak of his wish to unite both kingdoms. Collecting her thoughts, she cleared her parched throat to begin.

“Look! Over there!”

Danika whirled around, following everyone’s gaze.

A single soldier climbed down the ridge. With armor as black as soot, slumped shoulders and a noticeable limp, he looked as though he’d barely survived.

“Who is it?” someone else called out.

They stared, mumbling their fallen comrade’s names, each one hoping the returning soldier was their friend.

The figure brought his hand up and took off his helmet. A long stream of nut-brown hair fanned out in the breeze of the sea.

“That’s no soldier.” Danika’s heart sped. “It’s Valorian.”

Pleasure and Pain

“It’s the Prince!” a man shouted as the soldiers and minstrels ran to Valorian with sheepskins, bandages and food.

“Long live the prince!”

As the people chanted around her, Danika couldn’t believe her eyes. A mix of relief, joy, guilt and regret threatened to bring her to her knees. She’d had a chance to help Valorian, and she chose Bron instead. The Prince of Song had seen her choice. He knew the true nature of her heart.

Bron rose from beside her with stoic acceptance. “You should go to him.”

“I cannot.” She could no longer hold together her façade. Not if he knew she loved Bron. “To go to him would reek of a lie.”

“Go for Ebonvale’s sake, Princess.” Bron’s voice came out hoarse and pained.

“No.” She turned to Bron. She was her mother’s daughter after all, but this time it didn’t shame her. She followed her heart. Placing her hand on his breastplate, Danika whispered, “I’ve made my choice.”

Bron gazed at her hand with a mix of guilt and pain. “And so it may undo us all.”

They watched together as Valorian approached. Minstrels surrounded him, tending to his wounds and giving him water. Despite all of the commotion, his gaze found Danika’s.

She bit into her already dry and torn lip. How could she ever face him alone again?

As he grew closer, she mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

He nodded once. His features tightened, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the strain of the trek or her betrayal. “I’m relieved to see you are safe, Princess,” he whispered.

“My thanks to you and your minstrel army. Without them, we would not have achieved victory.” She bowed, hoping her one action wouldn’t tear their kingdoms apart. When she gazed up again, she didn’t get her answer. Valorian had already left for his ship, without extending an invitation to her.

Danika’s knees weakened and she swayed.

“Come.” Bron placed his arm around her as if he took full responsibility for her actions. “Today you must sail with Ebonvale. The soldiers need you.”

They both knew he spoke a lie.

They sailed onto the deep blue sea as the volcanos erupted behind them. The healers helped Danika to her cabin and attended to her wounds. After they’d bandaged every cut and soothed her burned skin, she stayed to rest out of respect for Valorian, despite her urge to talk sense into Bron. She didn’t want to be seen tramping about with her bodyguard. The time to unite her kingdom with the House of Song had come and gone, and now all she could do was ensure no further damage between their relations. Besides, Bron avoided her like the plague of the undead, staying below to comfort the wounded soldiers.