“Yes, but you weren’t being stubborn – you were a huge threat to us,” I laughed.
“Whatever the reason may have been, I’m telling you now to cut it out. It doesn’t take much to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I acted like an asshole’ does it?”
“Well no-” I picked at a blade of grass, “but at the same time, yes.”
“Look, I know your attitude has been like this – and I know losing Rosa didn’t help bring down that wall – but you have to get past it to make a future for yourself.”
I flinched. The sound of her name was enough to take the air from my lungs. The thought of her made me numb.
Thankfully Ric had been my brother long enough to know when he’d hit a sore spot, and changed the subject. “She worried about you earlier, you know. Despite battling her own demons she was more worried about you.”
“Why should I care what she thinks? I never asked her to worry.”
“And she never asked you to save her life but you did, multiple times. Why? Why would you risk yourself to save, as she calls herself, a ‘measly Gnathian’?” He waited but when I provided nothing he answered himself. “It’s because you care. She’s one of us now.”
I cried out irritably and got to my feet. “But she isn’t one of us – she can’t be one of us – so I don’t care what she thinks of me.”
“Yet, she’s all you’ve been thinking about since you left,” Ric said. I opened my mouth in retaliation and closed it swiftly. “You need to stop running from the things that terrify you.” Ric tapped the leather bind that covered my branding. “That includes being the man you were destined to be.”
Before I could argue Ric got to his feet and walked back toward the house, patting me on the shoulder as he passed by. If only he knew where I’d been. I spoke to the others for the first time in years and stopped in at a few of our bases, but for whose sake was that? I followed the ghost of Ric’s footsteps back the way we came.
I stared up at Ava’s open window. The gentle rays of the moon filtered through the canopy, lighting my path back up the tree. I set myself on the old floorboards as I reached the top and grabbed the windows, carefully shutting them behind me. A voice came from the bed and I turned to see her staring at me through half-open eyes.
“Ethan?” she said. “I didn’t expect you to kill me tonight.” She furrowed her brows and let her eyes close, waving me off before I could answer. The depth of that sentence tugged at my heart, yet she just drifted back into sleep like it was a normal thing to say. “I’m sorry for making you…” Her sentence faded into the bedsheets and her breathing grew steady.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” I said quietly. “I was afraid. I am afraid.”
I perched on the chair next to her. This position – the same one that I’d taken up a couple of weeks ago – I thought I’d never return to again. My hand shook slightly as my fingertips brushed over her cheek. Ava’s skin was soft and warm against my cold-drawn hand. Mustering more strength than I realised it would take, I picked myself up, walked over to the door and left the room without a second glance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THAT WAS THE point I realised I had finally gone mad. I’d had plenty of dreams of Ethan since we met, but not once did he act so chivalrously toward me. He even apologised – I was dreaming but what had it meant? I was afraid. I am afraid. My chest tightened and I pushed the thoughts away.
When I had washed and dressed I descended to find the house empty. The sun had only been up for about an hour yet the kitchen sink held the remains of a soaking porridge pot. I laid my palm against it, feeling its icy coldness prickling against my skin. Whoever had used it had done so many hours ago. Instead, I cut several large chunks of bread, scraping it with whatever preserve was in the half-open jar on the counter, and walked to the study. Thanks to the early morning chill I grabbed a sheepskin blanket from one of the chairs and draped it across my shoulders, savouring the blissful warmth as I strolled outside into the garden.
The sun had started to peek through the mass of trees so I chose one of the few sunny spots to perch. This time of the morning was my favourite; where the sun was bright but not hot and I could enjoy the blissful cold that bit into my skin. Minutes passed as the sun climbed higher over the lower canopies of branches. I pursed my lips together as I had done on my first forestry adventure and whistled the ageless tune as my mother had done.
Did Mother teach me this song? No, Mother couldn’t whistle, but she could sing.
I chased the thought away and pushed the old memory down into the broken cracks of my heart. Over and over the tune went, echoing into the open morning.
Two shadows then blocked the sun and before I could react I was pinned down by a pair of sharp, strong claws.
Panic sparked through me but quickly faded as I came to recognise the birdsong that followed. Another rustle of wings and a clack of claws above me and one of them sat on the branch of a tree. I nudged the other creature off my back and turned excitedly as it flew to its comrade above us. I should have been intimidated. I should have run; of course, I knew that, but the pair didn’t frighten me.
As I stared on, their song was the same; each note as beautiful and lyrical as I remembered. Their feathers, however, were dull. Rather than brandishing their precious ore-like beauty, their wings were grey and brown. It would have been easy to mistake them for an eagle or hawk in the day had they not grown so obnoxiously large in the month since I’d last seen them. If I thought they were big before, it was nothing compared to the size of them now. Even in the trees I could tell they’d be as tall as me; their wings would have to be double that; triple, even.
“What odd, beautiful birds you are,” I said. One bird, the first that had tackled me, dropped from the branch as its friend kept singing. I’d been right about the height. The bird’s head came up just shorter than mine and its eyes were an almost-translucent mauve in colour, making their watchful black pupils stand out further.
“Are you hungry?” I asked and ripped a small piece of the bread away and held it out slowly. Though, it wouldn’t move for it until I averted my gaze. When I felt the pressure of it at my hand release I sighed with relief, wiggling my fingers just to make sure they were all still there. Gehn, you could probably fit my entire head inside its beak.