Bitter Ashes (Bitter Ashes Book 1) (22 page)

James gave me a little salute, then shut the door in my face, leaving me alone in a dark room with a man I once could have loved.

I hugged my arms tightly around my stomach, not wanting to turn around and face Alaric again. Sure, I'd spoken to him in the woods earlier that day, but we hadn't been alone. Being alone made me nervous.

The room was small, and fit with the rest of the cottage-style decor. The single bed stood ominously, lit by the moonlight shining through the room's only small window.

I jumped when a hand landed gently on the side of my arm. Alaric's long fingers gripped my bare skin, turning me to face him. I moved stiffly, not wanting to look at him, but knowing I couldn't avoid it.

“We shouldn't stay here,” Alaric said once he had my full attention. “We need to look for Sophie. She can give us a place to hide and regroup until we decide what to do.”

“There is no
we
,” I said tiredly. “There is only
me
, and I'd like to get some rest, if you don't mind.” I looked at the lower half of his face while I said it, not wanting to feel the full pressure of his gaze.

He put his fingers underneath my chin and raised my eyes up to him. “You're putting yourself in the middle of a war, Maddy. You don't understand what you're doing.”

I took a step back out of his reach. I'd thought my anger was exhausted, but I was wrong. “
You
put me in the middle of a war. I had no choice in the matter.”

Alaric's shoulders slumped as his hand fell to his side. “Nothing would have happened to you if it weren't for Maya.”

“Maya?” I scoffed. “You mean the woman who was being tortured against her will?”

Alaric raised his hands in frustration, but seemed to calm as he closed his fists, then dropped them back down. “Maya's problems weren't your fight, Maddy.”

“Then whose were they?” I countered.

“You're defending a woman who abandoned you!” he shouted. “I didn't see Maya coming back to risk herself when
you
were the one in the cell.”

“Well I didn't see you risking yourself either,” I snapped. “Just because Maya didn't save me in return, doesn't mean I shouldn't have saved her to begin with. I didn't help her because I thought she deserved it. I helped her because that is the type of person I want to be.”

“That type of person does not exist among the Vaettir,” Alaric replied coldly. “Do not risk yourself for others, because they will never risk themselves for you.”

“And yet here you are,” I stated blandly, “
risking
yourself for me.”

“So you believe me?” he asked, jumping on what I'd just said.

“I don't believe anything anymore,” I replied, “not without solid, indisputable proof.”

Alaric took another step toward me, and this time I let him. “I'll prove it to you in time,” he said with an almost smile, “that is, if we live long enough.”

“You think Estus will come after us?” I questioned, though I already knew the answer.

“He will,” Alaric stated. “Especially after you released all of his hearts. He put two and two together, and he would rather die than let you hand the charm to Aislin.”

“And you would let me give her the charm, even though your Doyen forbids it?” I countered.

“I left the Salr against his wishes,” Alaric replied apathetically. “He is no longer my Doyen. The life I had is gone.”

“You didn't need to follow me,” I stated coldly. I'd be damned if he'd make me feel guilty for his loss.

“I was already planning on leaving once I managed to free you,” he explained. “If we would have been more swift, or if
you
had bothered sharing your plan with me, I would have left with you the night Sophie escaped with Maya.”

I shook my head. “I don't believe you. You would have had no reason to make such a sacrifice for me. You barely even know me.”

“You keep insisting that I've made some huge sacrifice,” he replied with his head tilted slightly to one side.

The movement made his now loose, dark hair fall over his shoulder. I didn't know at what point he'd untied it, but I had the overwhelming urge to reach out and run my fingers through the soft tresses. Repressing the impulse, my hands balled into fists at my side.

“You left your home,” I explained. “Leaving home is always a sacrifice.”

Alaric shrugged. “I've had other homes, and I'm sure I'll have more in the future.”

It was my turn to tilt my head in confusion. “It was my impression that you and Sophie grew up in the Salr.”

Alaric laughed, and the abrupt sound was startling in the darkness. “Sophie and I grew up in a very different world from the one we know now.”

“James informed me that the Vaettir do not always look their age,” I said as an idea formed in my mind. “How old are you, exactly?”

Alaric shrugged. “Old enough.”

I shook my head. “No. No more lies. I'll need two forms of I.D. before I'll believe anything you say.”

Alaric sighed and started wandering around the room. He ran his fingers along the quilted bedspread, then went to fiddle around with the bedside lamp like it actually interested him.

“I've lost track of the exact time,” he said finally, “but I was born around 1500, give or take a few years.”

“You're trying to tell me that you're over five-hundred years old?” I scoffed.

Alaric flicked the lamp on and off absentmindedly. “Don't believe it, if you wish. I wouldn't have told you if you would have let the subject go.”

I went to stand in front of him with my hands on my hips. “And why wouldn't you have told me?”

Alaric smiled. “You don't seem like a woman who'd be interested in a much older man.”

I laughed, and it felt strange after the past few days I'd had. “It
is
a little creepy, now that you mention it.”

He held a hand to his chest dramatically. “Oh Madeline, you wound me.”

I laughed again, and it felt a little more natural. “We should get some rest,” I said finally. “I hope you find the floor comfortable.”

Alaric let out a dramatic sigh. “I suppose arguing tonight would be a moot point?”

I nodded, “Just in case you're lying, I'd rather not revert to snuggle buddy status.”

Alaric cringed. “I suppose I deserve that.”

I nodded again, then stood on my tippy-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“And what was that for?” he asked in surprise as I took a step back.

I shrugged and climbed into bed. “It was for the possibility that you're telling the truth.”

“Would another truth earn me a pillow?” he asked hopefully.

I tried to look as disinterested as possible when I said, “It might.”

Alaric was standing far enough back that all I could see was his silhouette as he said, “In all of my five-hundred years, letting James stab you was the most difficult thing I've ever done.”

Tears started to well up in my eyes, and they were tears that I didn't want to share with anyone. I grabbed the extra pillow off the bed and tossed it to Alaric, then I laid my head on the other pillow with my back turned toward him.

I listened as Alaric lowered himself to the floor. A long while later, his breathing slowed to the even rhythms of sleep. Finally I let a few, silent tears slip out. They weren't tears for Alaric, or for anyone else but me. They were tears for the life I'd lived thus far, and for what might lay ahead. Sometimes you just have to cry for yourself, because no one else will.

Moments later, loud snoring that could only belong to James began echoing through the wall, and I wished I  had the extra pillow to sandwich my face. Instead I pulled the quilt over my head in futile effort to muffle the noise. Here I thought there wasn't supposed to be any rest for the wicked.

I
woke up early to find Alaric already wide awake, sitting at the foot of my bed watching me with a distant sort of look. He perked up as I struggled my way out of the tangled mess I'd made of the bedding.

“How long have you been sitting there?” I groaned.

He shrugged. “A few hours. I couldn't sleep.”

“You know, a normal person would have found a book or something else to occupy their time,” I chided.

Alaric shrugged again, then stood and offered me a hand to get up. I ignored his extended hand and stretched my arms over my head. I had to put them back down quickly though, as it dawned on me that I hadn't showered in a while.

“I'm going to find the bathroom,” I announced, hoping that Alaric hadn't caught a whiff of me, but knowing that he had.

“Would you care for some company?” he asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Absolutely not,” I mumbled as I made a beeline for the door.

The bathroom was just across the hall from the room we'd been given, so I was able to make a quick escape. I locked the bathroom door behind me, thinking that I should have asked Diana before I went to take a shower. Oh well, I wasn't about to go back into the hall in my state of stench, so I found a spare towel rolled in one of those little towel holders and started the water.

I stripped out of the black dress, immensely displeased that I'd have to put the tattered thing back on after my shower. At least the river had washed away the blood from my stab wounds.

I looked at my naked side to find two small scars where the knife had punctured my flesh. In that moment I realized how someone with my particular gifts could abuse such a power. The ability to take lives in order to heal others should never have existed.

Feeling more cold than the temperature of the room could account for, I stepped under the hot stream of water. I used the shampoo and soap that had been left in the shower, but couldn't find any conditioner. I scowled. Long, moderately curly hair needs conditioner. I'd be a total poofball by noon.

By the time I finished my shower and emerged from the bathroom in my shabby dress, coffee and breakfast had been made. We all sat at a small, kitchen table like a nice, dysfunctional little family. James and Alaric sat to either side of me, leaving me to look directly at Diana as I sipped my coffee.

Diana was dressed more normally today, in khaki slacks and a pale green, floral blouse. The green of the blouse made her leaf-green eyes stand out vibrantly in her pale face. She watched me carefully as I ate my french toast.

I had been mildly surprised the night before when James made sandwiches. When I'd found out that he'd also made the french toast, I was shocked. It was perfectly cooked, the outside crispy, and the inside sog-free. I was also pretty sure that I detected a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. Maybe torture was just James' day job, and he secretly moonlighted as a chef. Then again, maybe not.

“The place you seek is not on this continent,” Diana said suddenly.

It took me a moment to figure out what she was talking about, then I realized that James had probably filled her in on what I'd told him.

“Please tell me you're joking,” I replied with my mouth full of french toast. I looked to James for confirmation.

He shrugged, like it didn't really matter. “It looks like we'll be taking a trip. Passports and IDs are all taken care of in case Estus tries to track us by more mundane means. Your new name is Nicole, FYI.”

I was so shocked by sudden information overload that I couldn't reply right away.

“But we'll need to find Sophie first,” Alaric chimed in, adding to the deluge of surprising information.

I turned to glare at him. “Why do we need Sophie?”

“Strength in numbers,” James replied plainly. “Plus, I already had a passport made for her. I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

I let out an annoyed breath. “And you two just planned this whole thing out while I was in the shower?”

“You should not be so remiss to visit your homeland,” Diana interrupted.

“I was born in California,” I countered. “I've visited my homeland plenty.”

“The Vaettir originated in Scandinavia,” Alaric explained. “She's not referring to where you were born.”

“Scandinavia?” I asked incredulously. “Why did Estus ever believe that the charm was in the Salr?”

“The Salr is not in any one place,” Alaric explained. “The entrances are stationary, but the actual structure resides on its own plane of reality.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” I replied slowly. I knew that the Salr was a place of magic, but it had to
exist
somewhere real.

Alaric shrugged. “The Salr were created long before my time. I cannot explain anymore than I know.”

“You said were, instead of was, does that mean there are multiple Salr?” I questioned.

“Yes,” Alaric replied. “Originally the Salr were meant as places of sanctuary, but clans began moving into them permanently as our numbers dwindled. Those who did not have a clan were left out in the world alone. Leaders stepped forward to rule over those who resided within each Salr. Those rulers became Doyen, like Estus.”

I shook my head. I understood the theory of what I was being told, but the mechanics didn't make sense at all. “So back to why Estus thought the charm was in the Salr,” I began.

“The Salr were created long before the Vaettir became divided. It could have very easily been there. Estus somehow garnered the information that an executioner could help him find it, so he just assumed that the charm was nearby,” Alaric explained.

“Enough of the history lesson,” James interrupted irritably. “We need to get moving.”

“So say we hop on a plane, and end up in Finland or wherever,” I began, ignoring James. “How will we find the charm once we get there, and how can we be sure that it is even there?”

“Because I know the place that you were shown in your vision,” Diana replied, “and I will be going with you.”

“Couldn't you just draw us a map?” I asked hopefully.

Diana smiled slowly. “Do you not desire my company?” she asked.

“It's not that,” I corrected quickly, though really it was. “I just don't see the need for everyone to drop what they're doing to fly to Scandinavia.”

Diana stared at me until I finally looked down. Strangely, I was much more nervous about the idea of traveling with one little old woman than I was about traveling with my almost sort-of ex boyfriend and a man who might very well be a psychopath.