Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (43 page)

     Straightening back to his full height, he towered over me, and his gaze drifted to my lips. I leaned toward him, but when I touched the soaked fabric of his shirt I pulled back and pointed toward the clothes on the bed. Kissing me on my forehead, he turned away and I faced the fire.

     The wood crackled and snapped with a familiarity I didn’t think I would ever experience again. Palms facing the flames, I warmed my hands even though my body was already acclimated to the temperature in the room. It wasn’t necessary to change out of wet clothes, but our human natures were hard to put aside.

     I was just contemplating how nice it felt to be in warm clothes when his hands brushed over my shoulders. I felt his solid chest behind me. My back lit with a stirring pain but I ignored it and leaned my head back, reveling in the feeling of him so close. He was all around me, the security of his embrace was something I didn’t think I would ever feel again.

     Pulling on his hands, one unscathed, the other bandaged, I interlaced our fingers as we swayed back and forth to a tuneless song. Breathing deeply, I inhaled the scent of him once more. This time the musk of the old clothing combined with the smoke of the fire wrapped me in an embrace of comfort. My eyes began to close and for a moment I felt myself nodding off. 

     “Come on,” he whispered, unwrapping his arms from around me to walk toward the bed. He flipped back the covers and helped me settle along the mattress. As soon as the soft feathers embraced my back, I opened my mouth in pain. If I had a voice, I would have cried out, but nothing sounded through my lips.

    “Lay on your side,” he urged quickly. With a pained expression, he caressed my cheek and I saw the weariness in his eyes. He was as tired as I was.

     I did as he suggested and found it quite comfortable, especially when he slid beneath the covers behind me. The sheets fell between our bodies, but his arm reached out to wrap around my stomach. Interlocking our fingers again, I soon felt his breath grow steady until it deepened.

     It wasn’t long before I drifted off.

_______________

It seemed to be a lifetime later when I gasped awake with a jolt. My throat burned from the sudden inhalation, and I tried to dispel the image playing in my mind.

     Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the burning light from the embers of the fire. I took in the high ceiling and small window along the wall, but it was the heavy arm around my stomach which drew my attention, and when it moved, I looked over my shoulder.

      “Are you all right?” Patrick asked, his face suddenly appearing out of the darkness.

     I grimaced, “Yeah.” The sound passed through my fiery throat with a rumbling croak.

     “Nightmare,” he said, more as a statement than a question. I winced trying not to recall the image of Morven’s twisted body, or to hear the fatal tune pouring from my lips.

     Raising a hand to my head, I closed my eyes in an attempt to dislodge the image. I had had nightmares before as a result of what I had been through, but it was nothing like this. In the past, any harm I had caused was in self-defense. I could remember every second of what had happened on the rooftop, but more importantly, I had seen the death and destruction I had caused upon the shores of Hyvar.

     “It wasn’t your fault,” he kissed my shoulder, seeming to guess the path of my thoughts. I scowled back at him.

     “Yes…it…was.” I had to clear my throat between each word. The sound of it made me wince.

     “That’s not what you told me, when I remembered everything.” He nudged my shoulder with his hand.

     “That’s…different.”

     “You’re right,” he nodded. “At the time, I knew what I was doing and could have stopped it. You couldn’t.”

     I turned my head toward him, my brow furrowed. “How did…you know?”

     I didn’t understand how he was able to see what I had been trying to do the entire time Morven was in control. I knew I must have looked like a monster, at the top of the castle, my voice raining down on the Lathmorians.

    “I saw it in your eyes. When you looked at me, I could see the difference.” He shrugged as though it was nothing, but it was everything. “Marina was controlling your actions, but I still saw you inside here.” He tapped me on the forehead, and if it was possible to feel more grateful toward him than before, I was definitely feeling it now.

     “I…ahem…tried.” It was an understatement. I had given everything I had to somehow save him from me, in the end it had somehow been enough.

     Remembering when he had turned the dagger on himself, I felt a shiver run up my spine. In that moment I had feared for Patrick’s ultimate death and there had been only one way to overcome it all.

      “Thank you…for…saving me.” I rasped, a hand to my throat.

    He nodded. “Of course, and you me.”

     I shrugged, thinking my role had been much less than his. All I had done was throw a dagger with the intent to hit him, when he had sidestepped it. Of course, at the time, I had hoped he would see what I was doing and avoid it, but there had been the chance of him misinterpreting it all.

     He laid down on his back, his face disappearing from view. “You know, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” He spoke softly as though it was a confession. “If you hadn’t made me become
him
, I couldn’t have hurt you.”

     “I…know.” It was my turn to roll over to my side. Ignoring the pain along my back as I did so, I hovered over him, bracing my head with my hand, the other resting on his chest. His eyes were closed, his brow creased.  “I…did it…on purpose. Morven told…me to…ahem…awaken the warrior. So…I did.”

     “Don’t hurt yourself,” he chided and peeked one eye at me, before shutting it again. Then he grew more serious. “You saved us, because you did. I wouldn’t have been able to hurt you like that.”

     Reaching a hand out toward my throat, he shuddered. I wondered if there was a visible bruise on the skin from where his fist had connected with the flesh. It certainly felt like there should be.

     “I’m sorry,” he said, and as gentle as a butterfly wing he slid his fingers over the skin.

     “Don’t…be.” I smiled and leaned toward him to place a kiss along his cheek. He sighed and I knew he accepted my forgiveness. His frown deepened, the corners dipping. My brow furrowed. “What?” I mumbled, brushing my hand over his cheek.

     “I had a nightmare of my own.” He mumbled the words, making them almost indistinguishable. He twisted our fingers together, his eyes focused on them. “When they used the decoy,” he swallowed, “and I realized you were gone. I didn’t know what to do. I nearly lost myself again.”

     “Shh,” I crooned, not wanting to hear what my leaving had done to him again.

     He raised his eyes, the pain still flickering in them. “I thought you were beside me the entire time.”

     “How…did…”I broke off knowing he understood what I meant.

     He shook his head. “I cut off two soldiers headed in our direction, when I realized they didn’t even look at you, or what I thought was you. They were only headed for me. That’s when I glanced to my side, and,” he raised a hand to his forehead. “Everything went black.”

     Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. It had all been a plot to draw me away from him, and still I felt as though it was unfair the burden he had to bear.

     “Only Tunder was able to reach me after that,” he whispered. I cocked my head to the side. “It was everything I feared, I nearly went crazy with the waiting. I was reliving it again. The dungeon, and those moments of such intense fear, I couldn’t think straight.”

     “I’m…sorry,” I rasped. 

     “It wasn’t your fault.”

     “I…know.” I took a deep breath, knowing it had to be said. “We…don’t…have to…worry…” He placed a finger over my lips, stopping me from saying anymore. The love in his eyes was all the answer I needed.

     “You need to let it rest.”

     I nodded. “But…I want…you…to know.” I swallowed, trying to clear the gargle. “You…saved us… too.” The sound came out like gravel, though I spoke as clearly as I could.

     “Hmmm,” he grunted and slid his hand from my neck up to my cheek. “Maybe we both did.” His fingers sidled into my hair and pulled my mouth to his.

     When our lips connected it was bliss in the midst of the storm; reconciliation in the center of the confusion. All I wanted was to continue to breathe him in. He pulled me on top of his body and when I ran my hands through his hair, he gave a soft groan before pulling away.

     Our pain mingled together, a mutual sacrifice for one simple moment of pleasure. When his eyes met mine, I knew I was where I was meant to be. The feeling of complete acceptance and understanding filled me with a sense of gratitude I couldn’t fully possess within myself.

     A smile broke out over my face, and when I bit my lip, he chuckled.

     “I love it when you do that,” his thumb brushed over my partly obscured lip. Heat flooded my cheeks once more.

     I slid off his chest and curled up beneath his arm. For a long time we lingered, drifting in and out of sleep. On the edge of unconsciousness, my body threatened to give into the depths of rest. After the exhaustion of the past few days and the traumatizing events, I knew it would take some time before I felt fully back to myself. I idly wondered if I would ever have the energy to cross the ocean back to Lathmor. It seemed almost impossible to think of traveling so far.

     “Hey,” Patrick rubbed my shoulder, pulling me back from the precipice of sweet oblivion.

     “Yes?”

     “I want to ask you something.”

     “Okay,” I nudged him with my arm and stifled a yawn. With my other hand, I played with the stray threads hanging down from the neck of his shirt. I found it amusing we were matching, the thought was almost enough to make me laugh in my delirium.

     “We’ve been through a lot,” he said, his hand beginning to trace little circles on my shoulder.

     “Really?” I said, and he gave a half-laugh.

     “Yes,” his lips pressed against my hair. “And, I want to ask you to marry me.”

     I froze, suddenly very awake. I lifted my head to look at him. “What?” I asked, wanting to make sure I had heard him correctly.

     “Will you marry me?” he smiled, the light lifting to his eyes.

     In all the years I had been alive, I had dreamt of what it might feel like to be asked that one simple question. But I never could have guessed it would feel so right and completely joyful, there was nothing to do but laugh and hide my face in his chest as I nodded.

     He chuckled and gently wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him as though I was something he never wanted to let go.

     There were so many things to consider and worry about, and yet, they all dimmed in comparison to how I felt when I was with him. We were the same, separated by years, but had experienced the changes of this unlikely world within our own minds.

     He had endured the transformation in a way I could now understand, and he accepted what had happened to me without question. We came to one another as we were, simply asking the other to love us and in return had given all of ourselves.

     In that moment I wanted nothing more than to become his, and be with him for as long as I was on this earth.

     When he raised my head to kiss him once more, I did so with fervor and felt my love overflow. He was mine and I was his; and we would be that way until the end of our days.

     Kissing him once more, I had to draw away when my lips grew tight with a smile. His warm eyes hovered near my own and when he placed his lips along my brow, I inhaled deeply.

     “I…love you.” I whispered.

     “I love you too,” was all he said, and when he wrapped me into his embrace, I fell into the most blissful sleep I had ever experienced.

There was no sun the following morning or the day after. Amidst the reconciliation of all that had happened, the Lathmorians remained within the castle of Hyvar. Only Tunder maintained his strength and led his people through the process of purging Hyvar of its inhabitants. Those who swore allegiance to Lathmor were given their life in return for servitude, but those who refused or attempted to escape were imprisoned.

     We heard most of what was going on through the overheard conversations of others when we gathered in the dining hall to eat. Aside from sleep, there was very little we did to involve ourselves with any of the Lathmorians, and the desired distance seemed to be mutual.

     I had been ashamed to even show my face in front of any of the soldiers, afraid of what they might say. Patrick coaxed me to leave the room only by telling me it wasn’t as bad as I thought. He was right, and though we still ate at odd times, there were those in the hallways and rooms who often times glanced our way. On the rare occasions I decided to look up, I would see their eyes shift, their faces shadowed in wonder. There was a lack of fear, instead replaced with a curiosity they couldn’t quite contain. More than once, I had caught a soldier staring with his mouth hung open.

     I’m certain the way we now looked was in complete opposition to the last anyone had seen of us. Before Patrick had reached the rooftop, I had been crying out in my siren’s voice to every Lathmorian and drawing them to their deaths. To see me sitting in the dining hall with Patrick across from me as we ate, must have been something hard to comprehend.

     “Shall we?” Patrick said, after taking a swig of water from a crudely carved goblet.

     “I guess,” I replied.

     My throat was still scratched and my voice wasn’t nearly back to normal, but it was getting easier to talk. I no longer had to pause between every few words to gather my voice. I had been surprised to see the large bruise across my throat, in a sense it looked worse than it actually felt.

     “It’ll be fine,” he smiled and pushed the sleeve of my shirt up to take my hand as we walked from the room.

     Neither of us had changed out of the clothes from the bedroom, for some reason I didn’t want to leave them. In a sense, they made me feel as though we could remain ensconced in a world of our own, without having to come to terms with the realities of what had happened.

     With the pants cuffed above my ankles, I was certain I looked anything but dangerous, though the hellish memories of the battle told me otherwise.

     Patrick squeezed my hand as we rounded a corner and I glanced his way. Our progress was getting faster, though it was nowhere near what it used to be. Patrick still limped and the bottoms of our feet were torn from fighting upon the stones. Every now and then, too large a step would make the wound along my back stiffen, as a shock of vibrant pain beamed across it.

     An open doorway loomed before us, and as we walked toward it I had to take a large breath, not sure what I would find within. We passed by various makeshift beds, rumpled blankets kicked aside by sweating and groaning patients. Some of the visiting soldiers looked our way, but most didn’t even notice our presence. We were a distraction from the pain of those lying on the mattresses, clinging to the hands of those who rested beside their beds.

     My heart was in my throat as we glided past the swarm of faces I didn’t know, until we reached the end of the room. I spotted Kryssa first, her back was to us, and she sat on the edge of a bed, her body blocking who lay within.

     “Kryssa,” Patrick spoke softly, as a way of interrupting whatever conversation was taking place. She turned, looking back with red rimmed eyes and creases along her brow. I wanted to smile, but was too distracted by the man in the bed behind her.

     “Elik?” I croaked, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Tears sprung into my eyes and I internally cursed myself. The last thing he needed right now was to see my pity.

     “What happened to you?” he nodded in my direction, and I covered my throat with my hand even as a burning chuckle escaped my lips. How he could be so selfless was beyond me.

     “You’re one to talk,” I pointed out, and he looked toward his right shoulder. Where there used to be an arm, there was nothing, only a stump where his shoulder ended.

     “Ahh,” he shrugged and winced from the movement. “Could have been worse.” Kryssa nodded and ran her fingers across his cheek. She seemed softer somehow. There was a weariness in her, loss mingled with joy.

     She flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned back in our direction. “Where have you been?” It wasn’t accusatory, merely a wondering of our whereabouts.

     “We needed time…” Patrick’s voice drifted off as though the simple statement could explain the understanding and conviction we had come to in the past few days.  Glancing up through her eyelashes, she gave a small nod in our direction. She had always been one to understand, and if I didn’t know better, she was thankful to have had some time on her own with Elik.

     Their fingers twisted together, intertwining on the mattress, her thumb rubbed idly against the back of his hand, and he smiled toward her.

     “When will you be ready to leave?” Patrick asked after a pregnant silence.

     “Tunder gave the order this morning, we all leave tomorrow,” Elik confirmed, while the dark head above him shook back and forth.

     “I told him we’re staying behind a couple of days so he can gather his strength, but he won’t listen to me.” She glanced my way and rolled her eyes.

     I almost laughed, Patrick and I had had a very similar conversation. He had wanted me to remain until my throat and back had fully healed, but I needed to get out of this castle. There was nothing for me here, only bitter memories and nightmares. I wanted to see the sunshine again.

     “I’m perfectly capable of swimming back to Lathmor,” Elik interjected.

     “You lost an arm.”

     “Really?” he smirked, “That’s news to me.”

     “Be serious,” she shook her head.

     “I am. Last I checked, I didn’t need my arms to swim.”

     I bit my lip to keep from laughing, but Patrick was the one to let a chuckle escape. Kryssa glared at him before standing up and kissing Elik’s head.

     “I’d like to speak to Lissie, if that’s all right,” she added, looking toward Patrick.

     “Of course,” he said and let my hand go with a little squeeze.

     Without a word, she led me toward the end of the infirmary; Patrick and Elik’s voices rising in a casual cadence behind us. We stepped out into the hallway and passed across the small space to a large window looking out over the front of the castle shores. It seemed like years since I had last seen it. I couldn’t help but remember the bodies which had been scattered along the ground.

     Turning my thoughts away, I focused on Kryssa. She still wore the clothes from the battle—the dark garments cut in various places—but she was clean, the wounds beneath healing. Aside from the exhaustion around her eyes, she appeared to be in good health. One of my deepest worries had never come to pass.

     “How are you?” She asked, and I knew I should have been the first to speak, but I didn’t want to know what she was going through.

     “I’m alive,” I croaked, and she nodded.

     “Me too,” tears welled in the bottom of her eyes.

     “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and she nodded again before she turned to look at me.

     “She wasn’t supposed to die.” The tears spilled over and when they fell off her chin, she turned away again. “I always thought it would be me. I was the one who had already lost the love of my life, she had the whole world to look forward to and it was all just taken away. Both of them, were meant for each other, and they had barely a year together.” Her chin trembled, and I didn’t know what to say. Without a word, I gathered her into a hug and we simply stood in the shadow of the window, relying on one another. 

     “I’m afraid to say anything to Elik,” she drew back and wiped at her eyes. “He’s already in so much pain.” When she coughed out another choked sob, I couldn’t help but feel the tears reach my eyes as well.

     “It might not be what you need to hear right now, but he understands what you’re going through.” A long time ago, Elik had told me how his brother, Wyeth had died. He had been Kryssa’s fiancé and when a mission had taken a wrong turn, he had lost his life.

     “That’s why I don’t want to talk to him.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think if I hold onto the pain, she won’t leave me. If—if—if I tell him what I’m feeling, then she’ll really be gone.” Her voice broke, and she cried into her hands.

     “Okay,” was all I could think to say, and I wrapped my arms around her again. “Does Shaylee know?” I swallowed hard thinking of what the eldest princess would do when she found out about the death of her youngest sister.

     Kryssa nodded. “We sent back a scout after the first battle, and another after the last. At least she knows we’re alive.”

     I nodded, I could hardly imagine the stress Shaylee must have gone through over the past few days. Not only had we not returned after the original attack as planned, she had had to wait for three days to find out what had happened. It was a type of torture I had known when rescue parties had attempted to infiltrate the castle to save Patrick. Waiting on the sidelines with no way of knowing who was going to come back was a form of torment I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

     “Hey,” I squeezed her shoulders, and when she didn’t raise her head, I did it again until she looked up. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I do know one thing. Whenever Nixie was here, she lived. Not just breathing, but with a real joy for life and everyone around her. She would want you to be happy, so don’t go punishing yourself. Live for her, for both of them.”

     “I will,” she confessed, and I was surprised to see her give in so easily.

     Outside a patch of clouds shifted, and for one moment a glimpse of blue sky broke through the dim light. It was gone before I could point it out, but the sight lifted my spirits. I gave her another squeeze and when she lifted her head this time, the determination I was used to seeing in her was back. She would grieve, she would weep, and she would feel her sister’s death every day, but she would continue on. Most importantly, she would live.

     “You put on quite a show,” she said, and I nearly laughed. It was almost grotesque to mention what had happened in such a casual way.

     “It was something,” I cleared my throat, annoyed I still sounded so feeble.

     “Don’t beat yourself up over it.” She shrugged, and my arms fell to my sides. “Hey,” it was her turn to wait until I looked up. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

     “That’s what Patrick said.”

     “He’s right, it’s not.”

     “But I could have done more.”

     “Maybe all of us could,” she sighed. “All I know is you believed in Patrick when he didn’t remember himself. Even when he didn’t regret the lives he had taken from us. You forgave him and now that he remembers, he can forgive himself. Don’t put all this on your shoulders, let him forgive you.”

     “He already has.” I admitted.

     “Then let it go. What’s done is done.” She nudged my arm. “You told me to move forward, but I’m going to need you to do it with me.”

     Glancing up, I felt a hint of a smile pass over my lips, and when she winked, I knew we would be all right.

     We returned to Elik’s bedside. Chairs were brought and we spent the remainder of the night simply talking. What we spoke of I could never remember. All that remained were the smiles on all our faces. They were softer than usual, sadder than before, but they were smiles all the same. We were recovering and we would return to the light, but for the moment it was enough to simply feel safe and take care of one another while in the dark.

     Hours later after the sky had deepened to a murky pitch, Patrick took hold of my hand and we left the infirmary behind. Our steps were aggravated by aches, but I walked lighter than I had since the battle.

     “Hey,” I said letting our hands swing between us. “I have a question for you.”

     “What’s that?”

     “When Morven died, did you feel something?”

     He looked taken aback. “Like what exactly? Anger?”

     “No,” I shook my head, “something in your shoulder. When it happened, the blade he put inside me burned so badly it seemed to explode. I haven’t felt it since.” Unconsciously, I shifted my shoulder as though to prove my words.  

     “Yes, at least sort of,” he admitted. “It hurt, but not terribly, more of a prickling I think. I don’t know. I was a little preoccupied.” He chuckled, and I almost berated him. Thinking of it now, it was a miracle his fingers hadn’t slipped, causing him to fall to his death.

     “I wonder why it did that.”

     “Burned, you mean?” His eyebrows rose and when I nodded he sighed. “I don’t know, it might be that the blades are dead now. There’s nothing in them that can control us anymore.”

     “You think?” I bit my lip, the idea was almost too good to be true.

     “It seems logical doesn’t it?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “The only way he was able to keep us under his power was through the blades. They were as much a part of him, as we suddenly became. I remember something similar happening when Nerissa died, but maybe because Morven was alive it wasn’t as painful.”