Haven (War of the Princes) (38 page)

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Authors: A. R. Ivanovich

BOOK: Haven (War of the Princes)
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My mountain was immense ahead of us. We raced across the flat grassland plains, cutting straight for a particular set of foothills. Our horses’ hooves thundered atop the hard packed soil and I could tell
Florian
was exhilarated by the run. He pulled up his legs energetically and didn’t slow.

           
The clouds above us were smothering the last of the direct light away, but didn’t affect my Ability to find things. I gave
Florian
general direction and trusted his eyes.

           
Night goggles! I’d almost forgotten about them. I wouldn’t risk slowing to put them on yet. We weren’t being followed, so far as I could tell, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

           
My attention was riveted on those impressive peaks surrounding Haven. Soon, we’d be home. Dylan would be safe and I’d get to see my parents again. My family was far from perfect but it was mine. I’d be able to wrestle with my little brother and hug Ruby and Kyle. I resolved that the first thing that I would do when I got home, after taking a shower, was throw myself into my bed and bury myself in the goose down pillows for an eternity.

           
What would Dylan think of
Rivermarch
? I couldn’t imagine a person disliking it. The quaint stacked houses piled up near so many brooks and streams, little green gardens fenced in, narrow lanes wending through parks and over bridges, and of course, the multitudes of watermills sitting like watchdogs atop lazy rivers.

           
What would my friends think when I introduced them to the handsome young Lord of Breakwater? More importantly, what would my
parents
think, when I asked them if he could stay with us?

           
A vision from my dream came back to me. I knocked over my vase and it shattered, spraying water, flowers and shards of glass across the wooden floor. Rune was standing in the doorway of my house like a tall shadow. Fever and injury were plain on him, just like when we first met.

           
I wondered again what would have happened if I’d just brought him home in the first place? What if I’d taken him to a
Rivermarch
doctor and saved him from the horrible curse of being an isolated Dragoon. I’d never have met Dylan. But if I hadn’t come along, Stakes would never have hurt him.

           
If only I could have saved them both.

           
Life rarely gave a person what they wanted. I couldn’t take for granted that I had rescued Dylan from certain death. If helping one of them was the most I could do, I’d have to learn to live with that or let myself be torn apart with guilt.

           
Staring into the face of my failure, I buckled inwardly. I could never be at peace with leaving Rune in that fortress. He would haunt me forever and I deserved it.

           
“I’m so sorry, Rune,” I whispered to the gathering night, my chest aching with sorrow.

           
We reached the foothills in good time, but the horses were forced to slow to the whims of the gently rolling terrain. I could just make out the trees standing apart from one another in the tall grasses. The lay of the land was familiar. How could I ever forget the night I was captured- captured by Dylan Axton, himself, I realized.

           
I’d never have predicted how events would come to this, if you had asked me then.

           
While we loped on at a steady canter, I watched alertly for the huge dead tree trunk where I’d first attempted to leave Rune. We had to be close now. I was considering bringing us to a halt so I could put on my goggles when I saw it, off a short distance to our left.

           
Motion directly ahead of us alerted me.

           
A
Lurcher
plunged from the night like a ghost showing itself for the haunt. Its marbled skin was eerie pale in last remnants of a stormy dusk. The eel face gaped as its hound shaped body leapt into the air, clawed front paws tucked in a point beneath its chest. Smoke billowed around it, in some places trailing behind like a sweeping cloak and in others fanning out like the ghostly bones of wings.

           
Florian
grunted and squealed, lifting his front hooves and twisting to the side to avoid the monster. I clung desperately to the reins, knitting my fingers into his mane. Breath caught in my throat.

           
The
Lurcher
arched midair, planting its forepaws into the dirt with enough force to send a spray of soil into the air. It hissed as it landed before us, churning its trails of smoke.

           
Dylan’s horse lost its nerve, rearing as tall as it could and screaming in fright. It was amazing to me that Dylan kept his seat, but as soon as his horse’s hooves met the ground, his luck ran short. A second
Lurcher
launched out of the darkness, springing over the first to tackle Dylan from his panicked mount.

           
“No!” I cried. The
Lurcher
was huge and I knew how much damage even a single bite could cause. These things killed Dragoons. Dylan didn’t stand a breath of a chance.

           
“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” I shouted at them, unable to do anything else. Aside from being weaponless, I didn’t have the first clue how to fight a pair of deadly
Lurchers
. I felt useless in those few seconds, but I couldn’t let them kill Dylan.
Florian
danced, agitated beneath me.

           
Both
Lurchers
halted in their tracks, one standing atop Dylan’s chest. The smoke around them dissipated and they looked to me with silvery eyes.

           
I had their attention, somehow.

           
“Go away! Get out of here!” I yelled at them, wheeling
Florian
around.

           
They stared at me, breathing opened mouthed, and retreated into the night.

           
Shocked, I gaped at their retreat.

           
Dylan’s relieved laugh was shallow at first, but strengthened as he caught his breath.

           
I dropped down to the ground from
Florian’s
back, watching the place they disappeared to.

           
“Katelyn, they
listened
to you!” Dylan said, awestruck. He propped himself up on an elbow, far more interested in the miracle of the moment than his injuries.

           
I could only hope they really were gone.

           
“Do you have
any
idea how incredible this is? The bloody
Lurchers
followed your command! Hundreds of years they’ve plagued us and now they turn on heel like well-trained dogs!” Dylan ranted with excitement.

           
I didn’t share his enthusiasm. Nothing short of stepping into
Rivermarch
would convince me of our safety. Now we had an even greater reason to hurry away from here.

           
Glancing back at Dylan, I paled. Blood rushed from my face and limbs to protect my heart from the icy chill that assaulted me.

           
As he pulled himself to his feet, his shirt and jacket, torn by the
Lurcher
, were peeled down enough for me to see part of his chest. The dull gleam against his pale skin was unmistakable. A pair of narrow, spiny, metal ridges crested one side of his collarbone.

Chapter 32: My Choice

 

 

 

                       

 

           
“Katelyn, what’s wrong?” Dylan asked, limping toward me with innocent concern.

           
I stumbled away from him, wishing that my eyes had lied to me.

           
“Dylan, no,” I whimpered in denial. What I saw was real. No amount of disbelief would protect me from the truth. The very same metallic anomaly that grew from the Commanders’ bones, were jutting from Dylan’s own flesh.

           
He himself was the one to teach me what that meant. Dylan Axton was a monster just like my enemies- he was a Commander.

           
He must have seen the horror on my face and linked together its cause. Tilting his head, he looked down at himself. His first impulse was to cover the tear in his clothing, to hide the ridges that had breached his skin. His shame eroded to resolve. He probably knew it was too late to pretend I hadn’t seen what I did.

           
Every nerve and muscle screamed at me, ready to aid me the second I decided to run.
Florian
was four steps away. My shock and the agony of betrayal rooted me in place.

           
“Wait,” he said, holding up one hand and covering his chest with the other. “It’s not what you think!”

           
The absurdity of his statement fanned the fire of hurt within me. “Not what I think? There’s metal growing out of your chest, Dylan! How can it
not
be what I think?”

           
“Katelyn, please,” he begged me, striding a few steps closer. His limp was gone. Why was his limp gone?

           
“No!” I said, my voice lashing out like a whip. I was too horrified for the tears I wanted to weep. My lips trembled and my hands shook. I cracked. I could feel myself breaking. All of the fear, the sadness, the pain I had endured since arriving in the Outside World brimmed over my protective walls. My capture, my friendships, my imprisonment, my power… my loss; I crashed against my final limits. I’d tried so hard to swallow everything I faced, to rationalize and compartmentalize it, and for what? To keep going, for me, but also for the sake of the people I’d thought were my friends. I had been so innocent, so
stupid
. Anguish consumed me. “You… you
liar
! Stay away from me!”

           
How dare he look wounded by my words? He wasn’t hurt, not physically or emotionally. His features were battered, yes, but even his limp was a ruse. Actor, faker, liar, that’s what he was.

           
“Don’t,” he barely inched forward the way a person might approach a wild bird. If I could have flown away, I would have. “Just… don’t go. I promise, I can explain everything.”

           
The earnest sound of his voice reminded me of better days. A flashback came to me. It was of Dylan lounging in my quarters, asking me what we’d do on a sunny afternoon when he promised to avoid all of his responsibilities in favor of my company. He took care of me and all I offered him in return was contempt. It wasn’t until I’d truly suffered that I appreciated his friendship.

           
But what did it amount to now?

           
I thought he’d liked me. His advances had been so forward. I’d thought that the reason for the handsome young lord’s attraction to me was because I was unique, a novelty. Now the truth of his interest was coming into focus: he was one of
them
.

           
For a minute I just stood there and let the salt water trace down my freckled cheeks. My face was a vacant mask.

Nearly everything I’d learned about this place had come from Dylan’s own lips: The function of the Dragoons beneath the Commanders, the War of the Princes that was still being waged, the cruel nature of Commanders and the way they drained people to grow stronger. He could have lied about any of it, about all of it, and most importantly, about his involvement.

           
It didn’t make sense to me. Why had Dylan sounded contemptuous or even jealous of the powerful Dragoons? If he was a Commander, shouldn’t he have an equally strong Ability? Why did he sound disgusted when he first told me about the Commanders? What did he stand to gain?

           
“I’m the same person. I’m still your friend. Stakes did this to me. You have to trust me,” he said urgently, his eyes imploring my forgiveness. I wanted to believe him, the way I had before, but perspective showed me how simple I had been. How stupid.

           
It was that old phrase of his, “Trust me.”

           
“No,” I said numbly. “I don’t have to trust you.”

           
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Katelyn.”

           
“You already have!” I argued, aghast by the absurdity of his statement. I took my eyes off his face, glancing at the gnarled metal protruding from his collarbone.

           
“We don’t have time for this!” he snapped at me. “They’re going to find us. I’ll have all the time in the world to explain everything to you, once we’re safely away.”

           
“Dylan, you can’t brush this aside! You’ve taken away someone’s life!” I accused him, feeling sick even as I said it.

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