Chapter 16: The Great and Terrible: Chapter 16

We didn’t make it far before a freak storm rolled in, darkening the sky and pelting the land with rain and hail. It slowed us, but I wasn’t bothered. The rebels were slowed, too. My trepidation stemmed from another source.

“Monstra?” I cried, racing for cover under a tree as lightning forked overhead.

The others crowded around me, the women pale and shivering. Only Jasher appeared unaffected. Thunder clapped and crashed, reverberating across the land.

“They aren’t headed for us,” he said, dropping the pack at my feet. “Someone in one of the villages outside the forest committed a crime.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Duty calls. I must go.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle. “You’re going to execute an offender.”

His gaze avoided mine. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

“You’ve said that before, and I got carted into a trapper camp as the meat du jour.”

“But you were never in danger,” he reminded me. “I was right behind you.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ll return when I can.”

“Be careful,” I said, but he was already gone. So badly I wanted to give chase and shake him. How dare he put himself in danger after I’d just worked so hard to save his life.

With a humph, I claimed the bag and withdrew the blankets from within. Leona draped the first around herself and Patch, leaving me the second. Though thin, the material warmed me up fast. Even better, Jasher’s incredible scent saturated the fabric.

Getting cozy, I sat and got comfortable. The girls lowered, too, and we huddled together as wet winds blustered. I recalled the rain gear. “Bless you, Greta!” I dug inside the pack again, finding the tin. Took some doing, but I figured out how to open the side flap revealing—hmm. Small squares of black cloth.

“Oh! Don’t mind if I do.” Leona pinched a cloth between her fingers and shook it, the material lengthening, producing a hooded poncho type garment.

Nice! Patch and I each claimed a square and mimicked the mayor’s actions. The redhead unfolded a waterproof covering for her shoes. My choice became a hat, and I frowned. It reminded me of a witch’s hat, pointed up top with a wide brim on bottom. Was I not the Dorothy of this tale but…?

No. Absolutely not! I refused to identify with the wicked witch. Mr. West bore the right name and draped himself in green. He was the witch, not me! Scowling, I tossed the hat into the rain.

“You fool!” Patch admonished. She lifted locks of drenched hair. “You missed a perfect barter opportunity. I would’ve loved that hat.”

I glance at the now soaked headgear and winced. Too far to reach without getting soaked. “Apologies.”

Time passed, worry for Jasher increasing. “Thank you for the assists back there, ladies.”

“I did good, didn’t I?” Leona fluffed her hair.

Not the word I would have used, but okay.

“That reminds me. I owe you something, Moriah.” Patch squared her shoulders, as if she were about to face a firing squad. “Thanks for saving me. There. It’s been said. Now we’re even. Let’s talk about turning you into the Guardian. That is what we agreed to, yes?”

“I mean, we’re going to visit with the man, anyway,” Leona piped up. “We might as well cash in.”

“Stop, please,” I deadpanned. “Your love humbles me.”

“What’s up with you and the royal guard?” The redhead wiggled her brows. “Are you in love?”

Leona heaved a sigh.“Prepare yourself for nothing but denials, P.”

“You asked about sex.” But love? I hooked a lock of hair behind my ear. It was an emotion I’d never experienced outside of a family bond. Something I could not, would not, allow myself to feel for a boy I’d known only a handful of days. But I had considered bringing him home with me.

He wasn’t happy with his life here. How could he be? Forced to sign on as a royal guard. To train as a killer. Though he would hate abandoning his brothers, he might welcome the chance to farm.

Except, one of those brothers might be dead beneath my chapel.

The moisture in my mouth dried. “We’re just getting to know each other.” Mostly. “Are you guys dating anyone?”

Patch snorted. “Love ain’t smart. The boy I thought I’d grow up to marry got sold to Mr. South. Haven’t seen him since.”

“Ouch. That sucks.”

“I agree with Patch.” Leona’s shoulders slumped. “Two years after my wedding, my husband was beheaded for stealing to feed me and my sister. He was a good man, and now I have to live without him.”

And I thought I’d needed a break. “That sucks.”

“What about your obsession with, what was his name? Oh yeah. Drogan,” Patch said, as blunt as always.

Leona scowled. “My feelings might have softened toward him a wee bit. Satisfied now? But he was my first ray of hope in locating Claudia. I believe he would’ve kept his word and helped me find her, if I’d only released him. That was my plan for the third lottery.”

I reached out and patted her hand in a show of sympathy.

“Hey, where’d you get the band?” Patch motioned to my mother’s ring, glittering so prettily from my finger.

“I’ve always worn it.” Truth. I rushed to turn the spotlight elsewhere. “How did you end up in West’s stable?”

“Oh. That.” She dragged a finger through the dirt. “I lost my ma at twelve and struck out on my own. Teamed up with Amell, the boy I mentioned. He protected me and others on the streets. We all looked out for each other. A rival gang captured and sold the lot of us to different governors. West picked me and offered a choice. Agree to his terms or die immediately.”

“That’s awful.” Those poor kids.

“Any of your friends still alive?” Leona inquired.

Anguish flashed Patch’s features. A show of emotion she instantly regretted, as evidenced by her puffing chest. “No, but I’m fine. Fine, I tell you!”

Even expecting rejection, I reached out and patted her hand, too, sharing what comfort I could. Leona rested her head on the girl’s shoulder. To my surprise, Patch teared up, accepting our gestures. But of course, she also wiped her nose on her arm and snipped, “I’m not in the market for new friends so don’t go getting any ideas. I prefer to be warm right now, that’s all.”

Her vulnerability destroyed every bit of resentment I’d harbored toward her. No wonder she fought so hard to remain in her self-imposed solitary confinement. Hurt and betrayed left scars others couldn’t see.

“Brace yourself,” Leona said, “because I already like you. I’m sorry, okay! I couldn’t help myself. You remind me so much of Claudia. I’ve been searching for her forever. She’s my only living family member, and I miss her terribly.”

Wow. Both ladies had swum in an ocean of agonies. We weren’t so different, really, each of us determined to find our way in the world. I missed my father and feared for his wellbeing. Was he taking his medication? Crying over my loss? Worsening?

I missed Nugget, too. I’d only spent a couple days with the rabdog, but I loved him.

You’ve known Jasher longer.

I inwardly sputtered.

The storm died as quickly as it started, the sun casting bright golden rays through the canopy of leaves. A substitute had died.

We stood, stored our blankets and waited in terse silent.

And waited.

A twig finally snapped in the distance. I palmed my dagger. Leona scrambled behind me, and Patch put up her dukes, ready for combat.

Jasher stalked through a cluster of gnarled branches, and a ragged noise left me. He was wet, streaked with blood, and grim-faced, but I didn’t care.

I sheathed the weapon and threw my arms around him, clinging. “You’re okay.”

Just like he’d done in the clearing during the first part of training, he hesitated before returning my embrace. But oh, when he did it, he engulfed me, burying his face in the hollow of my neck.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I helped another guard find the culprit,” he replied, gruff. “The man deserved what he got.”

I tightened my hold. We stayed like that until Leona cleared her throat and Patch made gagging noises.

“Let’s go.” He swiped up the pack and stalked off. He also picked up the hat as he passed it, spun, and plopped the piece on my head.

You know what? Yeah, okay, I’d wear the dumb hat. I wasn’t wicked or a witch, but I did have power within. Look at my resume. Survived a world-changing tornado. Attended public beheadings. Negotiated with a water maiden. Escaped a human stable. Helped raze a cannibal gang’s village. Raised a runt rabdog without dying. Faced a rebel army without flinching. I could do anything, even navigate the series of quicksand groves we entered. Yawn.

Maybe I understood Jasher a bit better, too. He no longer struck me as an unfeeling robot but a living, breathing man making the best of a bad situation. His bravery knew no bounds.

Our group did little talking at first. I think we’d all revealed more of ourselves than we’d meant to today. Plus, I couldn’t help but expect the next wave of danger as we slugged up a hill, splattered with drying sand. I held my hat in place, on the lookout for rebels.

Jasher stopped dead in his tracks when we came to—what in the world? I bumped into his back, and he reached around to catch and steady me.

The girls stopped behind us and gasped. “A lion pride,” Patch whispered.

“With winged monkeys,” Leona croaked.

“These are the creatures you feared?” I whispered fiercely.

“Shhh,” the others demanded at once, and each meant business.

The ten “lions” were the size of housecats, lazing beneath shade trees. Buzzing around them, laughing hysterically, were winged monkeys only a little bigger than Tinkerbell.

We tiptoed away, as quietly as possible. Only when we were a good distance away did my companions sigh with relief. I wouldn’t ask what the creatures could have done to us. I didn’t want to know.

I focused my attention elsewhere. “I think we should discuss the Guardian’s reward.”

A muscle jumped in Jasher’s jaw. “Don’t worry. I don’t need it.”

“Good, because she’s already promised it to us,” Patch said.

“No one is turning her in.” A succinct warning. “I’ll be speaking with him first.”

Still protecting me. I petted his back in thanks. “I want you guys to turn me in. You deserve a reward, too. Maybe something for your brothers.” And there it was, the perfect opening to bring up the man who died beneath the chapel. Whether or not the victim was his brother, he’d want to check. He should check, just in case.

“We’ll do it my way or not at all.”

Uh-oh. He’d used his no arguments tone.

Nervous perspiration dampened my palms. How much would he hate me for waiting so long to confess? “I need to speak with you the next time we’re alone.” Forget the consequences. Better to do the right thing. “It’s about something that happened the day I got here.”

He helped me over a fallen tree, frowned, and gave me a stiff nod.

There. Now I couldn’t not confess.

As we motored around smaller pits of quicksand pits, a pleasant heat uncoiled in the center of my chest, drawing me in another direction. I rubbed my sternum, confused.

When we cleared the grime, Jasher led us to the left, following Dead Man’s Pass. But the tug. It strengthened exponentially, urging me to go right.

“This way,” I said, waving him to the opposite route. “Please.”

He glanced at my hand, and I realized I was twisting the ring. The forever key. Something else we needed to discuss.

“You are sure?” he asked, brow arched.

“I am.”

With a nod, he headed in the direction of my choosing. I stayed close with Patch and Leona lagging behind a bit.

“Isn’t the City of Lux that way?” The redhead pointed to the course Jasher originally wished to travel.

“If my internal compass is correct, yes!” Leona dragged her feet, as if they’d gotten too heavy to lift. “We shouldn’t detour.”

In no scenario did I think mentioning the forever key was a wise move. Then, I didn’t need to answer. Between one step and the next, an invisible curtain fell from the atmosphere, and a breathtaking oasis came into view. The tugging in my chest ceased. I’d reached the desired destination.

I gawked, marveling as I spun. This was the stuff of dreams and legends. Gemstones lined the bottom of pale pink waters: pools circled by flat, jagged stones. Lush, dewy plants dotted with sweet-smelling lavender flowers flourished through cracks. Palm-like trees heavy with huge green leaves and azure fruit cast shade upon a small beach with golden sand as soft as velvet. Toward the back, forming a half-moon partition, massive boulders of limestone had been hollowed out, turning each into a cabana. Murals decorated the walls between them.

Dazed, I tripped forward. I recognized my mother’s work.

“What is this place?” Patch spun, taking everything in.

Leona did the same. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jasher caught my arm, stopping me. “I’ve passed through this forest thousands of times, and I’ve never come upon this haven. Nor has anyone mentioned it. This is some kind of trap. It must be.”

“It’s not.” I knew that I knew that I knew. “I’m not sure why it’s remained hidden from you until now, but I do comprehend we’re safe here. My mother painted those.” I motioned to the murals with a tilt of my chin.

He released me, and I crossed to the cabanas to study the images up close, depositing my hat on a stone along the way. Wow! Such incredible detail. Scene by scene, they revealed a story. One of the fairytale stories she’d told me as a child. A kingdom ravaged by terrible storms that rained balls of fire. Monstra utterly destroyed villages, feasting on the charred remains. A handsome, strong king took action, entering the battle while beaming rays of light. He wore a golden crown and purple robe.

The biggest of the monstra closed in on him and spewed flames, but the heat did no harm. Other monstra joined their comrade, surrounding the king, laughing as they stabbed him with their razor-sharp wings. Crimson blood poured from his wounds when he collapsed, wetting the ground.

They’d killed him. The monstra killed King Ahav, the man most likely responsible for half of my DNA.

I sniffled and swiped at my damp eyes. The urge to peer into the eyes of his killer and do something bombarded me.

In the last scene, he disintegrated, his ash floating through the air, snuffing out their flames. The storm ended, and the monstra vanished.

A hot tear trickled down my cheek. Had my mother witnessed the death of her husband before making her escape? I remembered her tinge of sadness as she’d woven the tale, but I’d assumed she was in character. Here, now, I felt the dear woman’s pain in every stroke of the brush.

I reached out with a trembling hand and grazed my fingertips over an image of the king. In the darkest recesses of my mind, I heard my mother whisper, It’s not enough to know your enemy, darling. You must first learn your birthright.

A memory?

Leona set her sights on the painted king. “Do you think this has something to do with the prophecy?”

Maybe. The king’s sacrifice—and that’s what it looked to be—negatively affected the monstra. Clearly. I pressed a hand over my belly. Perhaps his only child was supposed to repeat his act.

“Excuse me.” Not ready to answer any questions, I stalked off. The girls stayed behind, but Jasher followed, his footsteps offering a soft alert.

I didn’t stop until I reached a cabana hidden in the corner beyond a row of bushes and trees. The structure looked upon a private pool with a waterfall and hot spring. Steam curled from the surface, illuminated by a sun descending on the horizon. Varying shades of pink, purple, blue, and gold spilled over the sky, painting the hideaway as vividly as my mother painted those murals.

A lovely spot for a meltdown.

Screams of frustration, confusion, helplessness, and homesickness lodged in the back of my throat, cutting off my airway. I fought for every breath. For control.

Jasher dropped the pack and wrapped his arms around me from behind, a solid presence at my back. A comfort as his scent and heat formed a force field around us.

We stood in silence for a long while. Part of me expected Iris to rise from the water at any moment. Another part of me hoped she did. As desperate as I felt, I might beat answers out of the maiden who absolutely knew more about the situation than she’d let on.

Jasher rested his chin on the top of my head. “Tell me how to comfort you, and I’ll do it.”

Compassion from the Tinman. I didn’t deserve it, or him.

As soon as I was able, I pushed a response from my tongue. “Stop being nice to me.” I spun, facing him. “You don’t know…I haven’t told you…” Squeezing my eyes shut, I rested my forehead against his sternum. “The storm brought me to Hakeldama inside a chapel, and that chapel landed on an executioner, killing him. I didn’t see his face, only his boots. They were the same as yours. What if I killed your brother, Jasher?”

He cupped my jaw and lifted my face, caressing his thumbs over my cheeks, gentle, so gentle. A frown marred his countenance. “This is what you wished to tell me?”

The only thing I could do at the moment? Nod.

Sunset irises glowing, he explained in the softest of tones, “Even if the victim were my brother, which it isn’t, you wouldn’t be at fault. You didn’t steer the chapel.”

“It wasn’t Anders?” A smidgen of hope peek from my upset. For a man who thought he needed help giving comfort, he certainly did an excellent job on his own. “You’re sure?”

He brushed the tip of his nose against mine. “I’m sure.”

“How?”

“I just am.” He said no more, but worry infiltrated his expression, as if he feared I might start pushing, and he would react, ruining the special moment.

Okay, so, he clearly had a secret of his own. Which wasn’t an indication of betrayal. Everything depended on the secret and the purpose behind it. Maybe, for whatever reason, he dreaded my reaction, as I had dreaded his. Perhaps he’d promised his brother never to share the details of their connection. Or he hoped to avoid Patch and Leona overhearing. There were a thousand innocent motives. Bottom line? I either trusted Jasher or I didn’t. A truth that resurrected another matter.

“When we reach the next village,” he said, “I’ll get word to my commander, and he’ll send someone to discover who died.”

“Thank you.” His kindness lit a fuse deep inside me, torching my defenses. Every part of me wanted him to know how special every part of him was. “Here,” I said, removing the compass and anchoring the leather strap around his neck. “I want you to have this.”

He blinked down at me. “I don’t understand. We haven’t reached Lux City yet.”

“I know. But I believe you are honorable, and you’ll keep your end of the bargain, despite receiving payment beforehand.”

What little remained of his emotionless mask fell from his features, revealing gut-wrenching vulnerability. As if he’d never dared hope someone might see something of worth in him. As if he’d waited his entire life for such an outcome.

Without my defenses, things inside me cracked. Here, now, I didn’t care. Enough heaviness. After enduring days of turmoil and danger, and we deserved a break. What better location than this gorgeous oasis?

“Swim with me.” I kicked off my boots and lifted my arms, inviting him to remove my shirt. “We have a head start on the rebels, if any gave chase. We’ve got time.”

“You’re right. We’re safe for now.” He searched my gaze, hesitated a beat more, then raised my shirt over my head, revealing my plain beige bra. A leftover from our stay in the Wild West Inn. Slowly but surely, he discarded his weapons, one after the other. The axes. Daggers. A mini-whip I hadn’t noticed. A collapsible crossbow.

I watched, awed. When he finished, he raised his arms, issuing his own invitation.

Yes, thank you. I worked to remove his tunic, but the material pulled tight over his wealth of muscles. Eventually, I managed it. The compass hung between his pectorals, an adornment I wished I’d given him sooner. I gave it, him, a stroke.

His nostrils flared. When I stepped back, he toed off his boots. We watched the other unfasten and shed their pants. I revealed the bra’s matching panties while he killed in a pair of loose-ish black boxer briefs with a string tie instead of an elastic band. Tattoos even covered his legs. While his chest boasted images of limbs with dangling heads, his thighs displayed more of the trunk. Twirling roots decorated his calves. He was a tree of life and death. A temptation like no other.

He ran his hot—and heating—gaze over my curves, giving me the same once-over I’d given him, his pupils gobbling up his irises. New flutters erupted in my belly.

“Tonight, I don’t want to think about unanswered questions, the murals, my bloodline, curses, or monsters. Let’s be a fun farmgirl and a super-hot soldier on leave.” As I spoke, I backed up, entering the water. The warmth delighted me, but I liked his reaction more.

Raising his chin, emitting pure intensity, he squared his shoulders and stalked closer. Water splashed as he entered. “You are a farmgirl. Agreed. But I’m not a soldier on leave. I’m a soldier on a mission.”

“Mmm.” I smiled at him. “Do tell.”

“Operation Capture the Farmgirl is a go.” He lunged for me.

With a laugh, I reared back. He swiped only air. Living in the moment, I scooped handfuls of water and splashed him.

He paused to rub a hand over his face, removing the droplets from his eyes. “That’s how you want to play this, eh?”

“Try and stop me,” I taunted.

Seizing the advantage, he pounced, diving into me, taking us both under water.

“You fiend!” I laughed as I breached the surface. I shimmed from his hold and swam off. “I’ll make you pay for that.”

“Farmgirl, this soldier is determined.”

After that, we played like children, splashing about, taking turns chasing and evading. But it wasn’t long before our laughter ceased. My desire to evade him fled. Every time we brushed together, I swallowed a breathless groan.

With his intensity on full display, Jasher pressed me against a smooth rock. Chest to chest. He captured my hands and kissed my knuckles before pinning my wrists over my head. My heart raced with purpose.

He traced the pad of his finger over my ring, his gaze hot on mine. “Where did you get this?”

“It was my mother’s,” I replied, honest. “I thought I lost it. Then I came here and suddenly it appeared. First as a shadow, then as the real deal. Iris called it a forever key.”

“I’ve never heard mention of a forever key.” He slid a thumb down, down my arm, stopping at my mouth. Eyelids growing heavy, he plumped my bottom lip. “I want to kiss you,” he all but growled.

Yes! Do it.

His nostrils flared. “But I won’t.”

“What if I ask nicely?” I rocked against him, wrenching a ragged moan from us both. His strength. His heat. The perfection!

Birds squawked overhead, and he stiffened. “I would hate myself later, but I’d say no. I’m not in a position to form an attachment.”

“Good thing I’m not asking you to attach.” But wasn’t I doing just that? A kiss—or more—without any kind of connection meant less than nothing. A momentary pleasure with only enough fuel to fan the flames of discontent. I had no desire for that. With him, I wanted more. To be valued. Seen. Known.

He dipped his chin. “What are you asking, princess?”

I opened and closed my mouth. Because I didn’t know!

“Exactly why I won’t risk kissing you,” he stated, not hiding his disappointment.

The denial hurt as much as it soothed, and the incongruity confused me. Though it shouldn’t, I supposed. At the moment, I felt as if I were two separate people. The girl from Kansas, and the woman in Hakeldama. They craved different things.

“This is probably for the best.” He released my wrists but didn’t back away. “My kind never experience a happy ever after.”

The low, husky admission struck a chord deep within me. His kind. Meaning the royal guard or a citizen of both Hakeldama and Earth?

I glided my palms up his muscular chest, offering comfort of my own. “You could come with me.”

He closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to face me. “I can’t.”

I told myself to let the subject drop. Putting pressure on him wasn’t smart. Or honorable. But a question tumbled from me, anyway. “Can’t or won’t?

One second passed. Two. Three. When Jasher opened his eyes, his mask was fixed in place, but still he didn’t look at me. “Will you consider staying in Hakeldama?” he asked in lieu of an answer.

“No.” I refused to lie. No matter how much part of me longed to stay with him, to explore the lives of my parents and aid their people, I wouldn’t. My loyalty belonged to another. “I won’t abandon my father.”

“I understand.” He hesitated only a moment more before he removed the compass and returned the leather strap to my neck. He fingered the ornament, saying, “Keep this with you for now. I like seeing you wear it.”

“Jasher,” I croaked.

He exited the water, leaving me more confused than ever, shaky and sad.

Reprieve over.