Forbidden Forest (The Legends of Regia) (17 page)

Forest heaved a great sigh and let go of Syrus. He followed her back to their messed-up campsite. She shook the dirt out of her sleeping bag and climbed back inside. Syrus fumbled around with his bedroll until he had it laid out neatly next to hers. “Are you sleepy?” he asked climbing inside his sleeping bag.

“I was before that little incident we just had.” Forest lay on her back looking up into the sky. The aquamarine moon was covered over with thick clouds. The only light that existed now was the dim glow that emanated from Kyhael far below them.

“Can we talk?” Syrus asked tentatively.

“Of course. Why do you feel the need to ask?”

“Well, you weren’t so nice about it earlier today. Minus the time I was being a, what did you call me, a jackass?”

Forest snorted. “That’s it. I’m sorry I was rude, minus the time you were being a jackass.”

“Obviously.”

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.

“Asking questions was what got me into trouble last time. Why don’t you start?”

Forest turned her head to the side and looked at him. He was on his back as well, his face turned to the sky, his useless eyes open. Forest’s fractured heart pulled inward like a fist. More than anything, she wanted to give him back his sight. Even if she never looked into his black pearl eyes once they were healed. Just to know that he was whole, with his power fully restored, that would be enough. She hoped.

Okay
, she thought seriously. He was always asking her questions about herself because she never told him much of anything. Maybe it was time to let something loose. Because they would never really be together, she wanted to share some of herself with him, just little tokens, like pieces of broken shells.

Forest sighed, thinking about where they were and decided what she would start with.

“I have never set foot in Kyhael, even though I have all the rights and privileges of citizenship passed down to me from my father. I have often had the desire to see it because of the way people rave about it, but I can never seem to bring myself to go. My mother never understood why I didn’t use my elf background to my advantage. She thought it was because I hated my father for abandoning us, but that wasn’t it.”

“Was it because you thought it would hurt her feelings?” Syrus asked.

“No. I
didn’t
want to hurt her feelings, but my real reason was because I felt it was too big of a risk for me. I don’t know who my father is. All I know is that he has some rank and power. It was my greatest fear that he may be a priest of the
Rune-dy
. I mean what if they wanted to study me? The
Rune-dy
commit unspeakable acts in the name of science. I have always been afraid to go to Kyhael and have my father take notice of me. Through the course of my life, the only thing he has ever done for me caused me more harm and pain than anything else I have had to endure.”

“Sending you to Academy,” Syrus stated in a low voice.

“Yes…I don’t hate the fact that I’m half elf, but I chose to hold more closely to my shifter roots out of love for my mother, and also because I was raised in the shifter community. As I grew up and my social circle widened, I began to realize that the shifters were more accepting of me than the elves ever would have been. The shifters have suffered persecution at the hands of every Regian race with the exception of the Ogres. Ogres don’t persecute anyone.”

Syrus chuckled lightly. “No they don’t,” he agreed.

They were both quiet for a few minutes. Forest could feel her weariness falling back onto her. Syrus rolled onto his side, facing her, and propped his head up on his arm. “So what is it like, being a Halfling? I say
Halfling
with no disrespect.” He added quickly.

“What do you mean, what is it like?”

“Well, you have gifts from both sides right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do your gifts clash or compliment?”

“Well, there are drawbacks to not being a full blood shifter, because I cannot ever shift completely. My eyes are always the same, no matter how hard I try to alter them, so I’m always recognizable to those who look close enough. My ears too. I can shift my ears, but they give me trouble and are constantly changing back to their natural shape without my realizing it. I’m not hindered in regard to my inherited elfish ability to become invisible, but sometimes when I’m in battle, I’ll shift when I mean to vanish, or vanish when I mean to shift. If I am afraid or stressed, it takes more effort to control what I’m doing. I never slip up when I’m calm.”

Forest yawned deeply.

“Get some sleep, Forest,” Syrus said warmly. “I’ll stay awake and keep watch over you.”

Forest was about to thank him when Syrus reached out and gently stroked the side of her face. She bit down on her quivering bottom lip and rolled onto her side, facing away from him. After a few minutes, she fell into the restless sleep of the aggrieved.

Syrus lay still as a stone listening to the faint beating of Forest’s heart. His own heart and mind twisted into various knots as he thought about the things Forest had told him. It was the first time she had been truly open with him and it both thrilled and saddened him. His mind replayed every conversation they had ever had, and that amazing core-jolting kiss they shared after sparring, and lastly, the momentary passion a few minutes ago. She would give him mere seconds of vulnerability and then strike out at him violently or run away. The gravitational pull between them was making him demented. Not only did he want to touch her, knowing it would hurt if he did, it hurt not to.

There was no noise in the forest around them. Syrus didn’t have to think about listening for danger; it was as natural as breathing since he’d lost his sight. As the night wore on, he began to feel relaxed and tired. As his mind became hazy, he lost his edge on his own physical self-control. He had given no thought to touching her while she slept, but that awful gravity was relentless. He only realized that his hand was about to grab a hold of her arm when he felt his mage power pulsing from his palm. He couldn’t bring himself to pull his arm away. He kept his hand an inch above her, not making any physical contact, but his energy extended out and ran back and forth over the length of her arm. The pleasure and relief this small innocuous act brought him was staggering.

Syrus tottered on the brink of completely losing his head and turning the innocuous act into something entirely different when Forest rolled onto her back and whimpered as though she was in pain. She was still asleep, and Syrus realized that she must be dreaming. As more of an experiment than anything else, he reached across her and lightly ran his fingertip over her lips.

She whimpered again and then she spoke. “Don’t…” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Please…don’t force me…please…” She moaned and her voice became louder and stronger. “No…no…I won’t beg…”

Syrus grabbed her shoulder to wake her up. She moved faster than he knew she could, and he found himself pinned under her, his arms trapped under her knees and a knife under his chin. “Touch me again without my permission and I’ll have your head, Sucker!” She snarled in his face.

“I won’t! I promise! I’m sorry! I only touched you to wake you up. You were dreaming.”

Forest’s eyes were glazed. She wasn’t coherent. The cold night air and a bad burning smell brought her to her senses. She blinked down at Syrus under her, his face twisted in shock and pain as her silver plated knife touched the skin on his neck, burning him.

She pulled it back and jumped off him, mortified. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I was dreaming.”

“I know,” he said acidly.

Forest burned with humiliation. “I should have told you not to wake me if I appeared to be dreaming.”

“Yes, you should have,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Well, now that you’re awake—” he said, lying back and zipping his sleeping bag up to his chin “—it’s your turn to keep watch. I’m going to sleep.”

Syrus fell asleep thoroughly pissed off and thinking that he’d never met a woman that was this much trouble.

Chapter Twelve

ZEFYRE KNEW ending up back in a relationship with Lush was a possibility when she decided to solicit information from him. Knowing didn’t ease the irritation she felt. Using herself as collateral was distasteful. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny that she’d missed him a little since she’d kicked him to the curb. She’d learned many secrets from him that were to her advantage, but now he was growing nosy. He pushed and pushed until she was ready to garrote him, but eventually she caved and told him her purpose. He was her accomplice after all.

Lush propped his head up on one arm, lying next to her in bed, a look of amusing shock on his face. All remains of arrogance and pleasure were gone as his mouth hung open stupidly. She knew he was about to implode, and it could take a long time for him to calm down, so she jumped out of bed and put on a brocade robe. If he shouted and she felt the need to shout back, at least she wanted to respect herself enough not to get dragged into a naked shouting match.

She waited, but he just continued to lounge there in her bed with his mouth hanging open.

“Can’t you think of anything to say?” she demanded.

“Well…well, you’ve turned my world on its head, and I’m having a hard time adjusting to your vision of the future.”

Lush sat up and began looking around for his clothes. Obviously, he also considered this conversation too important to have naked. Zefyre went to the kitchen, poured herself a drink, and sat back down on the living room couch.

A few minutes later, Lush surfaced from the bedroom fully clothed and sat down across from her. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a calculating stare. “You’re going to try and sell me this scheme aren’t you?”

“Of course,” she said lightly. “You’re already a party to it by feeding me information. You might as well subscribe to the ideology.”

“So you’ve been feeding intelligence mixed with disinformation to Philippe via sacrificial messengers?”

“Yes.”

“In an attempt to control the outcome of the war?”

“Yes.” Lush was quiet for a moment, piercing her with his eyes and scratching his chin. “To what end?” he asked aggressively.

“To destabilize the Vampires
and
Werewolves; causing enough chaos to shatter all forms of existing power and government, so we can begin anew. A republic, Lush! Can’t you imagine it? Initially under the stewardship of the
Rune-dy
.”

“‘
Under the stewardship of the Rune-dy
,’” he repeated with a disbelieving tone of voice. “Why the
Rune-dy
? They’ve never showed any interest in power, and they terrify everyone.”

“That’s why. You just said it. They aren’t interested in power, yet they have more than anyone else in Regia. They have just chosen not to use it to make any changes.”

“Until now.”

“Yes,” she said, “until now.”

They sat staring at each other in silence for a minute.

Lush narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been playing both sides a long time, haven’t you?”

She gave a deep sigh. “Yes. A very long time.”

“You were playing me back when you used to tell me you loved me,” he accused.

Her eyes flashed. “No! I might have manipulated you at times, but what woman doesn’t? When I expressed feelings for you, I meant them.”

“Sure. I’ll just take your word for it,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh, don’t go acting all injured. You used to revel in the fact that we could never make our relationship public.”

Lush sulked, but he was mulling-over her vision of the future. Being a vampire, he naturally enjoyed that vampires were in power, but he was a politician. Under the crown, he could only advance as far as his bloodline would allow. He saw how he could emerge as a more powerful leader in a new republic. Nothing made him more drunk than the prospect of power, except Zefyre. He was in. There was just one thing he needed squared away before plunging ahead.

“What if we’re caught? Who takes the fall?”

“Well that depends on the timing,” she explained. “If we are caught and it looks like we are trying to help the wolves gain power, then Frost and Gagnee will take the fall. If things have progressed further and the Elves come under fire, then Kendel will be framed as the mole.”

“Why not throw Forest into the fire with him? Anyone could believe she was a conspirator.”

“No!” Zefyre said firmly. “She will have a bigger role to play in the new world.”

Lush sneered contemptuously at the thought of Forest having any power. “Says who?” he demanded. Zefyre smiled nastily at him. “Her father.”

****

Netriet had been sitting on the stone floor for hours, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was hungry, thirsty, and freezing. The only bright side she could find at the moment was that she was alone. Philippe had not come back to his bedchamber since he’d dumped her here. The doors leading out onto the balcony stood open. Thin icy wind blew continually around the vast room. The altitude made her feel loopy, and she suspected she had been unconscious longer than what would have been natural because of it.

She had no real sense of time, but since it was night again, she assumed she was coming up on her second or third day there. Having nothing else to occupy her, Netriet had set her mind to memorizing every nook and cranny of the room, but she made sure to touch nothing. From what she knew about werewolves, she was astonished that they had allowed Philippe to be their leader. However, seeing as he was the leader, why had no one assassinated him? She’d noticed that he wore a cape made from the dead when she had arrived, and the room she was in had the pelts of the dead on the floor like a rug. Why was this tolerated? Netriet was careful not to walk on any of them.

Philippe burst into the room so suddenly Netriet screamed, startled. He carried a large torch, and he began to light the darkened ones in the torch brackets around the room, laughing loudly at her outburst of fear.