Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) (29 page)

Asking if she liked being weak, if it felt good when she was helplessly dragged between those orcs. Maybe next time she might just lay down and open her legs, let them have her. Every word he said made her so angry, and the fact that they were coming from his mouth only served to intensify her rage.

How could someone who said he cared about her say such hurtful things?

“The next time you see your handsome prince, maybe you’ll just hand him a knife and say please when you ask him to cut your throat.”

She brought her arm down so hard the impact reverberated painfully through her wrist and all the way up to her elbow. It throbbed agonizingly and she almost dropped her sword, but her fingers were curled so tight around the hilt it was like a part of her. She wanted to hit him again, but the force of the blow knocked him off balance. He tried to maintain his footing, but he fell behind his own shield laughing.

“Now that’s more like it!”

“You’re a jerk, Finn.”

She didn’t think it was funny; she wanted to hit him again for a whole bevy of reasons. She wanted to knock the arrogance right out of him, smash the smarmy grin from his face, but most of all she wanted to show him she was not helpless. The next time she came face to face with Trystay of Hofft she wouldn’t be begging him to kill her, but running her blade through his belly until they were face to face and he could feel the fire of her hate against his skin every time she exhaled. He would be the one who begged, whimpering for her to spare him, to remember the way he’d loved her and she would laugh at him just before she twisted and pulled his insides out as she withdrew.

Finn’s laughter ebbed as he peered over the edge of his shield at her and propped half-sitting on his elbow just out of reach. The light of amusement faded from his eyes as he lowered it to show his face. She was still raging, her ragged breath dragging through her throat, chest and shoulders heaving, her eyes blurred with unshed tears of anger. Her heart was thunder in her own ears, but underneath that thunder she felt the steady, soothing beat of the muscle in his chest calming her rhythm.

“Maybe I am a jerk, but imagine how much harder that would be to hear from someone who didn’t care at all? Someone who actually meant it?”

She didn’t have to imagine. She already knew.

Finn started to roll into a seated position again, laying his shield over his lap and staring up at her with pride.

“The beast wakes in you,” he added, folding his hands atop his shield. His calm demeanor took the edge off her rage, making it easier for her to breathe again. She both loved and hated the power he held over her emotions, resented and admired him for making her feel the way she did when she was with him. “Fierce, strong, angry… You may not be able to embrace her now, but listen when she stirs, follow her instincts, and no one will ever hurt you again.”

“Good.” She swallowed hard, her throat so tight she felt like she might choke on her own emotions. “Because I’m tired of being hurt.”

Finn only tilted his head to stare at her, the long locks of his black hair falling down the front of his shield, his eyes glistening in the light of the fire.

“You can use the pain of the past to hone your arm, Lady, but eventually you will have to let it go or it will rule you.” The sound of Bren’s voice startled them both.

Neither of them heard him emerge from his tent and his shadow never crossed the fire’s light. Instead he lingered near the edge of the flames, little more than a shade himself. He’d been watching them spar, arms crossed, head thoughtfully tilted. “In time, even the bitterest of wounds begin to fade and we forget what we fight for.”

“You’ve seen a lot of fighting then?” Finn scoffed and she glared over at him, immediately wiping the smirk from his face with little more than a look.

“Before I was brought to this land I fought harder than anyone should ever have to fight just to survive.”

“Fighting with magic is not the same as fighting with steel,” he countered, “as having to get so close to your enemy you can see your own rage, your own desperation to survive staring back at you from his eyes just before you put a blade through him.”

Lorelei saw nothing but her own fear in the dark black eyes of the orc who crushed her beneath him on the ground, her frantic struggle to free herself, her gaping, screaming mouth.

“You seem to forget I once fought in the arenas of Bok’naal. Hand to hand, magic against magic. It doesn’t matter if a man’s life is snuffed by steel or fire, killing an enemy damages the one doing the killing no matter the circumstances under which it is done.”

Brendolowyn never raised his voice, and there was no malice in his tone. “I think it would be wise for Lorelei to understand that killing does not come without regret. Battle is not all glory and excitement. Death is more than just a means to an end. It scars the soul of the one who brings it, no matter the circumstances.”

“Don’t confuse her,” Finn warned, pushing himself up from where he’d crouched. He was forced to duck down in order to keep the branches of the tree overhead from tangling into his hair, but that didn’t detract from his presence in the least. “Don’t fill her head with wilted flowers and premature guilt and make her doubt her own hand before she even has to raise it to protect herself.”

“My words are not meant to fill her with guilt or doubt, only prepare her for what she will feel when that time comes.” There was a stiffness in Brendolowyn’s voice unlike any she ever heard. Even when he and Finn disagreed, he seemed more annoyed than truly angry, but the self-righteous declaration that followed was filled with so much conviction even Finn was stunned at first. “She is not like you, Wolf. No matter how much you want her to be, she will never be like you, not even when she wakes her spirit.”

The words of the tawny wolf from her dream echoed in her mind.
You are more like me
.

“She is born of two worlds. That is the very reason she was chosen for the things she must do.” He paused, only long enough to let his words sink in. “You can train her, teach her to defend herself and make her strong, but when the time comes to stand and fight, she will not take life without remorse because she is an emotional being, a woman, and she has seen so very little of this world.”

She didn’t have to look at Finn’s face to see the anger those words stirred inside him. She felt a little angry herself that he would say such things about her while she was standing in front of him. There was nothing wrong with being emotional, nothing wrong with being a woman. The fairness of her sex should have nothing to do with how well she could fight.

Before she could respond, Brendolowyn continued. “I simply think it would be wise to prepare her emotionally, as well as physically, that is all. Her sole motivation for standing against an enemy cannot be anger alone, and she must know killing an enemy will have repercussions on her soul.”

They were all three quiet for a long time, and though Lorelei could feel Finn’s unspoken anger and emotion, she began to focus on her own feelings.

She never took a life before, though she’d seen him do it without hesitation the night they’d been exiled from Drekne and again when he’d saved her from the orcs on the beach. It seemed so easy for him, but she hadn’t given much thought about how it might make her feel if it was her who killed her attackers. Would she feel remorse, even though they’d wanted to destroy her?

Even if her life was in danger, she couldn’t imagine it would be such a simple thing to end a life. She could almost see herself staring down at the bodies of the dead orcs, looking at their faces and seeing them as men. Different than her own race, but men, nonetheless. Maybe they had wives and children, lives… Had Finn thought of them at all in that way after he took their lives? Had he suffered in the least the night he killed the men who taught him how to fight just to save her life?

As if he could clearly read her thoughts, Finn said, “You cannot afford to be distracted by such things in the heat of battle. Those are the kinds of thoughts that get you killed, and you,” he leveled his finger at Bren, “should not be filling her head with them.”

“Maybe he is right,” she thought out loud, turning her stare away from him, toward Brendolowyn shadowed in his own robes near the fire’s edge. Finn’s frustration swelled inside her, even more so when his strong hand came down on her shoulder. “Maybe I do need to understand my motivation to fight.”

“Maybe he is right,” he agreed, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. “And if he is, you shouldn’t be out here at all because I can promise you that before all is said and done, you will have to take lives, Princess. Especially if you would keep your own.” He nudged past her, his arm lightly touching hers as he walked, his shoulder catching in her hair. “The only motivation you should need to fight is your own survival. If every time you blink in battle, all you see is the face of the man who used your heart to get under your skin, then good. Your hatred for him will guide your hand and your enemies will fall to your blade.”

She wanted to call after him, ask him who her enemies were because she didn’t know the answer. Trystay was her enemy, that much she knew, but beyond that who else was there? Aelfric? His men? If it came down to it and she stood face to face with the man she’d called Father all her life, could she raise her arm against him, even as he threatened to run a blade through her heart?

She stared after Finn until he ducked inside the tent, the flap wavering behind him, and then she turned her gaze toward Brendolowyn. How could two people who wanted the same thing for her be so different? Even worse, how could she not even know what she wanted for herself? Without another word, she walked past Bren and sat down near the fire, staring long into its flames and trying to make sense of the tangle of thoughts in her mind.

“Please don’t be angry with me for wanting you to know what you are up against.” Bren sat down near her, just close enough that she could feel him beside her, but far enough that if she held out her hand she couldn’t touch him. “Finn is right, you do need to know how to protect yourself because we may not always be there, but if it came down to it and you had to kill a man…” Those words hung in the night between them, so heavy she could feel them weighing on her soul. “I just want you to understand that it will haunt you, Lorelei, long after they are dead, the faces of everyone you ever have to kill will be there every time you close your eyes.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” she muttered helplessly. “Just run away? Stand there and let them kill me?”

“Of course not. Sometimes you will have no choice but to kill your enemies if you want to survive, but there will be times when running is the better option, other times even still when trying to make peace with your enemies would serve you better.”

“But how do you know the difference? How do you know when to run, when to make peace… When do I know if I should kill a man who’s trying to kill me?”

“Listen to your heart,” he said softly. “It will always know.”

As far as answers went, that one was getting tiresome. Her heart spoke only of foolish, insignificant things that had nothing to do with survival. It spoke of emotional conflict, fear she would make the wrong choice when she was finally ready to decide what was essential to her future. A long, exasperated breath escaped her, her chest contracting as she nudged her chin into her shoulder. She stared in the direction Finn went, watching the flap still wavering with his movement inside the tent.

The greatest part of her wanted to go to him, but she didn’t. Withdrawing her gaze, she focused instead on the fire, hugging her knees close to her body and trying to turn off her thoughts for just a little while.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Bren sat with her near the fire for a long time, neither of them speaking. He didn’t have to speak for her to know he was watching her. He sensed she could feel his gaze, and she deliberately fought the impulse to meet with it. Her avoidance hurt more than he could put into words, but he didn’t leave her there alone. Even protected by the barrier he’d raised, he didn’t like the thought of her ever being alone.

Lorelei was in a lonely position, burdened by the most solitary task imaginable, and the man who was supposed to see her through it all only seemed to want to argue with her at every turn. Did Finn not see the proportion of all that lay ahead of her? How much she was going to need a shoulder to cry on, someone to occasionally reach down, take her by the hand and lead her through the dark times ahead? She needed someone to lean on.

She was meant to save not just their people, but the entire world. When the time was right, when she fixed whatever events that were once broken, she would wake the serpent and find herself expected to slay it in order to set the world to rights again.

He pored over the text he’d given her, but it didn’t clearly explain the result of the prophecy coming into fruition. It spoke only of setting time back on its course, but surely such a monumental act would have its consequences. And the moments leading up to the epic battle she would eventually undertake would be terrifying for her. The weight of the world on her shoulders, and the U’lfer only wanted to cause her more confusion and doubt about her place in all of it.

Brendolowyn could tell she wanted to fall onto the ground at times and throw a tantrum, but she never whined or complained about how unfair it was. She’d accepted her position, embraced it with a certain amount of admirable grace, despite how senseless it seemed to her to just do what a seer said she was meant to do.

The majority of her frustration revolved around not knowing how or even where to start. Rhiorna gave her even less than Yovenna before shoving her out into the world and telling her to find her way. Yovenna couldn’t have told Lorelei much more than she said before she died. It was the convoluted path of the seer to guide without giving too much information to fork the original path in a new direction. In essence, that was the real challenge they faced: correcting the fork and realigning the path in order to achieve the intended outcome.