She rubbed her brow. “My master told me I should be going after the source of the Darkness within the mountains, and don’t get me wrong, I do want to help. But I have to admit, I had hoped that if I helped you, maybe you’d be able to free Tarren for me in return.” Millennia stared so hard at the ground I wondered if she was trying to melt the rock with her eyes. “It’s barely been two months without him and I already feel like…like a part of me is missing. Like I’m missing an entire limb.”
For a while, I was silent. Her words were illogical, driven by emotion so strong I could barely fathom its depths. But she was finally truthful with me. Whatever other reason she’d had—her master wanting her to find the dragon, or just helping people along the way—I could tell this was why she really wanted to join us. At least she didn’t try to pretend her crusade was only for some noble purpose.
She simply wanted her “love” back.
Millennia reached for a lock of her hair and twirled it once between her fingers, her gaze straight ahead. “And some days…I miss him so much…the pain is so bad that I wish I could get rid of it somehow. If I could just forget him or cut out all this…” She let go of her hair and hugged her shoulders, sighing. “Sometimes I think it might be easier if I were a Royal. And I couldn’t feel anything, like you.”
I didn’t argue, because I knew she was in pain. But it wasn’t true what she said. I did feel things. All the time. Too much sometimes. The difference is that Royals, like with our Sense, learned to bury it. To push it aside and not let emotions rule us.
“I promise I’ll do whatever I can,” I said softly, holding out my hand.
Millennia smiled and grasped my hand, squeezing it tightly. A firm shake.
Shaking hands with a Romantica. Promising to free a heretic. Maybe I was becoming more like them every minute and less like the princess my mother wanted me to be. The princess I’d set out on this journey to prove I could be.
…
“Which way?” Zach asked me as he stomped out the flames from our campfire the next morning.
Drifting away from our little area at the base of the stones, I reached out with my Sense, the wind blowing through me as I closed my eyes. I felt it then, small but steady, in the pit of my stomach, growing like an infection, spreading into my gut and shoulders. I pointed in the direction where I felt the darkness the most and opened my eyes. It was west, over some rough boulders.
Millennia raised her blue hood and frowned at the direction. “We shouldn’t stray far from the mountain path. It could get very dangerous.”
“But we can’t just not follow Ivy’s instinct,” Zach countered. “We’ll get farther from the egg, and it’ll take too long to get there.”
“Then we’ll make our own path somewhere in-between. I’ll be able to tell if we stray too far from it,” I said.
With our packs shouldered, we started on our way, picking out our own trail, moving somewhere between the stony feeling in my gut and the stone-carved mountain path.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Over the Edge
The mountains of Wu-Hyll were the epitome of beauty. The stone swirled with gray, cream, indigo, and lavender. When the sun hit the rocks, they glimmered like diamonds. Trees dotted the mountainside, and occasionally we came across deer grazing on plateaus before they leaped off in graceful bounds down the slopes, kicking up loose pebbles.
I tried my best to lead the way, keeping the regular mountain path in the general line of sight while drifting more westward. We climbed over boulders and jumped over thin streams trickling on smooth rocks worn by hundreds of years of the water’s steady pulse. Bromley stayed behind me, while Millennia and Zach picked up the rear.
We stopped midday, and despite the chill of the mountain air, we were sweating. I led them to the gentle stream we’d been following. Dropping my bag by my feet, I heard a small clunk of metal against stone. I paused for a moment, remembering the compact in my bag and my last conversation with Gelloren.
The look on his face when I mentioned the Romantica’s theory was still clear in my memory. Like me, he was unlikely to believe anything he had not seen, especially something that could contradict hundreds of years of Royal history.
But was it possible for it all to be true?
The thought paralyzed me. Like when Zach had first brought up the theory of the Golden Effect, I felt nauseated again. So I just stood there, staring at my bag and the magic mirror resting in the folds of its fabric, waiting for the feeling to pass.
A hand lightly touched my arm. Millennia stood above me with a concerned brow, then she motioned her head toward the stream. I followed her there, leaving Brom and Zach to rest in the shade of a small cliff.
“You’re doing a good job,” Millennia said as she pulled down her hood and gathered her black hair off the nape of her sweaty neck.
I washed my hands, which were coated with rock dust, and shrugged. “It’s not so hard, and the added power of Zach’s Sense helps. What’s difficult is repressing the Sense during a battle. Without proper training it could paralyze you. But the Legion taught me how to suppress it when I need to.”
Her shoulders stiffened as she bent to splash water on her face and rub some on her neck. “That’s good, then.” She returned to her pack for lunch.
I stuck my hands in the stream again. Even though I felt like we’d been able to make some progress from our conversation last night, she still hated the Legion, meaning that she couldn’t completely trust me. Yet, for the sake of her fiancé, she was willing to try. Though I didn’t understand the primitive tradition of marriage the Romantica upheld, I knew they took it very seriously. She must believe she loved Tarren deeply to turn to the enemy for help.
The enemy. Fields of Galliore, I’m calling my own people the enemy now?
I stood, but the rocks were slippery, and I lost my footing, falling backward into the stream. Though it was shallow, the icy water brought me back to the well’s enchantment, and panic, like claws, gripped my throat.
Seconds later, I was lifted out of the water.
“Troll’s breath,” Zach swore next to my ear. “What were you doing?”
Relieved, I rested my head against his chest and breathed deeply. “C-clearing my head.” His heartbeat thundered in my ear.
“It looked like you were trying to drown yourself.”
Surprised at the tremor in his voice, I looked up and saw how pale he was. Like black lightning splitting apart the frozen ground, the look on his face struck me, breaking open the very foundation of who I was. It made me realize that whatever he felt for me, I didn’t understand, but I wanted to.
That single thought. That horrible, blasphemous thought—suddenly wanting to understand Love—made my whole body shudder.
Last night, sitting next to Millennia, I’d admitted I was confused, but now I actually wanted to understand the heretical teachings of True Love. I might as well burn my Legionnaire cloak now.
Holy Queen, have I forsaken you?
“You’re shaking.” Zach stepped out of the shallow stream and knelt on the rocks. “But warming you up has its perks,” he said with a smile, and hugged me tighter to his chest. Then he called for Millennia to start a small fire.
I could hardly feel the chill in my bones, only the mad struggle between wanting to run back to Myria, fall at my mother’s feet, and confess that I really wasn’t worthy to be her heir—that she’d been right all along—or bury my face in Zach’s neck.
I gave in to the latter and pressed my cheek to his collarbone. Despite everything, I was smiling.
“I believe you.”
“What?” Zach dipped his head to hear me over the running stream and my chattering teeth.
“I believe you.”
There was hesitation, then, “About what?”
Did I believe in his feelings, the Romantica theory, or both?
Even I didn’t know in that moment.
I placed a hand on his cheek and brought his face to my lips. Shockingly, he didn’t pull away. Kissing his cheek gently, I said, “Thank you, Zach.”
Zach blinked, then his lips tugged to the side in a half smile. He pressed his forehead against mine. “My pleasure, princess.”
Millennia walked over and held out a small flame around my damp clothes, letting it warm me. Brom watched me with wary eyes. But was it from my dip in the stream? Or the way Zach held me?
What would my best friend think if he knew I was starting to believe Love actually—maybe—could exist?