“They
were looking for me. They’d found out I’d been assigned as your Guardian and
had come to kill me. They had been looking for days for the village, but the
protection prevented them from finding anything until I ventured across their
path.” He paused again and she drew a hand to his temple, tracing her fingers
through his hair and down his neck. He lifted his hand to cover hers and held
them both still.
“They
saw him before they found me. He ran from them, leading them away from the
village and into the forest. It was there they killed him. They didn’t use
lightning. They used some sort of spell or strangle power and it took minutes
for him to die. I watched him struggle. I watched him fall to the ground. The
Mardróch laughed. Their voices echoed around me until they moved away and I
could no longer see them.
“I
remained frozen where I hid. I waited for my mother to discover I’d escaped my
babysitter. I don’t think it was long, maybe half an hour, but it felt like an
eternity. She organized a search party and they found us both.”
Meaghan
waited to see if he would continue again, but when he did not, she spoke. “Do
you know who the man was?”
“My
father,” Nick answered. “My mother always assumed I’d gone outside with him,
that we’d been ambushed. I’ve never been able to tell her the truth.” He
brought their hands down to his lap and stared at them. “I’ve never told anyone
what happened.”
“Nick,”
she whispered, unsure of what to say.
He
looked at her again. “Death is a regular part of life here. But it hasn’t
always been and it won’t always be. I’m certain of that. My father died because
he believed in that too, and because he believed I could make a difference. So do
I. And so does everyone who fights to free the kingdom.” He raised a palm to
her cheek. Stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, he held her eyes with
intensity. “That’s how we stand it, Meg. We live on hope and we keep trying to
make things better.”
She
nodded in understanding, but did not shift from his touch. She felt more from
him now than she had all week and she did not want to sever the connection.
Though his grief and guilt remained, his conviction that they would succeed in
what they fought to do overshadowed the darker emotions with hope and faith.
She considered his words, painted the image of that dreadful day in her mind,
and felt a new type of empathy that had nothing to do with her power.
“Those
are good reasons,” she said, but then realized how closely the image echoed her
own experience. When the Mardróch had chased her through the field while she
struggled to protect Aldin, Nick had frozen. She had seen it and did not
understand it then, but she did now. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to
ease the pain she had caused him. But she could not figure out how to say the
words, so she did the only thing that seemed right. She leaned toward him and
kissed him.
A
spark ignited. The warmth of fire built within her stomach, consuming her. She
expected him to pull away. She felt the struggle within him, the longing and
fear, but he hesitated for a second. He hesitated, held, and then fed the
longing. He touched her face. She traced her fingers through his hair. They
grew closer. The fire grew stronger. Then the crystals flickered.
Nick
pulled back from her so fast she pitched forward. Panic washed over them both
before he succeeded in shutting her out once more. He jumped up, knocking her
apple over. It bounced down the stairs and rolled into the clearing. He scanned
the trees, the panic disappearing from his eyes as soon as his gaze locked on
the white crystals.
“Don’t
do that again,” he told Meaghan, though he refused to look at her. His voice
came across as brusque, and she did not understand what had happened. He had
enjoyed their brief encounter as much as she had.
“Why
not?” she asked.
“Because
it’s forbidden.” He walked down the steps and retrieved her apple. Returning to
the porch, he handed it to her, never breaking his stride. Then he disappeared
into the cabin, shutting the door behind him.
Several
minutes passed. Meaghan stared after him, stunned by his behavior. A breeze
picked up from the west, chilling the air around her. She clutched her arms to
her sides. The wind grew stronger. Her teeth chattered, her fingers turned to
ice, and still, she waited. Embarrassed and angry, she did not want to face him
yet. But the wind sliced through her clothes and her cloak. The cold bit her
skin, and she could not take it any longer. She picked up the backpack and
followed him inside.
Although
the outside of the cabin had seemed somewhat run down, the inside looked to be well
maintained and clean. Next to the door stood a small table with two chairs. On
the far wall, a fireplace waited to give warmth. Flanking the fireplace, two
cots invited weary travelers into slumber. Though small, it promised relaxation
and safety. They were both too upset to take pleasure in either.
Nick
watched her from the foot of one of the cots as she tossed the backpack on the
table. “What was that about?” she demanded.
He
met her scorching gaze with one of his own. “I told you before. We can’t do
that.”
“I
don’t recall you fighting me off.” She crossed her arms. “It felt more like you
were enjoying it.”
“It
was a mistake,” he said. “A moment of weakness. And it can’t happen again.”
“As
I asked before, why not?”
“Because
it’s forbidden.”
“So
you said.” She pursed her lips. “But you still haven’t answered the question.”
Nick
stood and moved to the fireplace. A wood box to its right held sticks of
kindling, and he crouched down next to it. Retrieving the kindling one at a
time, he broke them in half before tossing them into the fireplace.
“Guardians
are forbidden from falling in love with anyone but another Guardian,” he told
her. “It’s the only way to keep our powers strong.”
“I
see,” she said, her voice as chilly as the air. “So the rest of us aren’t good
enough for you.”
He
paused, half a stick locked in his hand as he turned to look at her.
“I’m
not good enough for you,” she said, dropping her arms. “Is that what you’re
trying to say?”
“Of course not. Meg—”
“What?”
she snapped. “I’m tired of hearing excuses from you. I want the truth.”
“There’s
no point in it,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. We can’t have a
relationship. It’s against the rules.”
“And
there’s no way around that?” she asked. When he shook his head, she turned from
him. Walking to the cot, she sat down before she looked at him again. Tears
burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “This feels right, Nick.
It has since the day we were lost in the woods. I was childish. I wanted to
keep hating you, but I found it impossible. I grew to care about you.”
“I
did too,” he confessed. “But the rules have been enacted to protect us. Aunt
Viv died to protect us, and I don’t want to throw away her sacrifice.”
“Why
would you?” Meaghan asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s
complicated.” He turned his attention back to the fireplace. “For now, you’ll
have to take my word for it. We can never be together.”
“Maybe if we—”
“Never,”
he insisted, his voice stiff with the finality of his decision. He stopped
snapping kindling. Waiting for her next protest, she knew, but when she did not
offer one, he returned to his task.
She
wanted to be angry. She wanted to yell and argue with him, but she could not
find the will. Today had been too taxing on her and his rejection tipped her
emotional scale. Though she hated showing the weakness in front of him, she
buried her head in her hands and cried.
She
felt his sorrow join hers and then disappear. He had dropped his guard. It had
only lasted a few seconds, but it had been enough for her to know she was not
the only one suffering. She looked up at him.
“This
isn’t fair to you,” he said. “I know that, and I want to explain everything,
but I don’t know how.”
He
stood, and then placed his hand on the mantel. She began to feel warm. Her eyes
turned to the fireplace and she watched the fire he had built spread.
“If
I could be with you, I would,” he continued. “You’re the most remarkable woman
I’ve ever known. You grow stronger each day. I watch it and I’m proud of you
for it. You’ll be perfect as Ærenden’s Queen.”
The
warmth in her intensified, moving out to her limbs. The fire remained small,
and she wondered where the heat came from. It pulsed down her legs, and along
her fingertips.
“But
your royalty is the reason nothing can happen between us. No matter how much we
care about each other, we can never make it work. It’s not just against the
rules. It’s more than that.”
She
felt feverish. She curled her fingers into her clammy hands and then stretched
them out again, bringing them to the burning in her cheeks.
“Meg,
please say something.”
“I’m
sorry,” she responded, though the fire filling her brain made it difficult to
think, let alone speak. “I’ll do whatever you feel is best.”
“Thank
you,” he said. He turned to stare into the fireplace. “For what it’s worth,” he
whispered. “I’m sorry, too.”
The
warmth she felt boiled, and then it overtook her, searing every fiber of her
body before exploding from her, a volcano of heat and light that turned into
swirling silver.
A
second later, Nick gasped. Blue light poured from him, shooting straight into
the air to collide with the silver stream emanating from her. Where the colors
met, they swirled together, turning into dark red. Once no more blue and silver
existed, the red separated, retreating into Nick and Meaghan in turn. She
stared at her hands, at the glow enlivening her skin, and then closed her eyes,
sensing steady warmth she had never known before. She felt alive. She felt
vibrant. She felt powerful. And for the first time since she had come to this
world, she felt right.
Nick
sank to the floor in front of the fireplace. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that
way,” he said. He turned to stare at her. Fear haunted his eyes, but she did
not need to see it to know. He had stopped hiding his emotions from her again.
“We have to touch,” he continued, though his words made no sense to her.
“That’s how it works. It has to be a kiss.”
“What
do you mean?” she asked. “What happened?”
He
closed his eyes and his fear gave way to despair. “It’s over,” he said. “I have
nothing left.”
“I
don’t understand.”
“It’s
over,” he repeated and pressed his hands into his forehead. “You took my
powers.”
“I
STILL
don’t
understand.”
Instead
of responding to Meaghan’s confusion, Nick stared ahead. At the wall, through
it, or maybe he could not see it at all. She did not know. She only knew his
emotions harbored both fear and a loss she could not comprehend. He remained on
the floor, unmoving for several long minutes that felt like hours before he stood.
“We
should sleep,” he said and walked to the other cot. After pulling back the
rough wool blanket and the crisp white sheet underneath it, he sat down on the
edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.
She
watched him, waiting for him to explain, but when he slid under the covers, she
realized he did not intend to tell her anything.
“Nick,”
she began, stopping when he turned to look at her. He had drawn a curtain over
his emotions, darkening them, and that frightened her more than anything else.
“I
need time,” he told her. “Let me sort this out. We can talk about it after we
sleep.”
She
nodded and when he closed his eyes, she rose to add fuel to the fire. The
kindling he had lit had nearly burned down and she did not want the flames to
go out. Despite the warmth now inhabiting her body, her skin had turned to ice.
The temperature felt like it had dropped ten degrees in the last hour.
“Don’t,”
he said when she lifted a log. She turned to face him. His eyes remained
closed, a forearm stretched over them, but he had heard her.
“It’s
cold,” she argued.
“We’ll
live. The smoke will give away our location.”
“But
we’re protected,” she protested, though his warning gave her pause. Had she
stolen his powers? She looked through the window of the cabin, searching for
the glow of the crystals, but could not find anything. Panic rose within her
and she settled it. He blocked her Empath power again, so he must be mistaken.
He
did not seem to think so. “We’re not protected anymore,” he said, his tone
flat, giving no misinterpretation to his words. “Now go to sleep.”
She
swallowed her dread, her fear, and now a growing sense of frustration, and did
as he asked. She dropped the log back into the wood box before making her way
to her own cot. Taking off her cloak, she snapped it flat over the top of the
wool blanket, and then slid between the sheets. They felt as icy as the air.
Within a few minutes, they insulated her body heat, but not enough. She
shivered, clenching her teeth to control the need to chatter them, and waited,
hoping sleep would find her despite her accelerated heart rate and overwrought
brain.