Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(46)
I know better than anyone the loneliness and pain Cohen must feel right now.
“I suppose it’s better to lose your life to war than the guard’s noose,” Cohen says bitterly.
“You make it sound like Finn has no chance.”
“Don’t you remember when we were fourteen? Even though we already had a couple years of training, we would’ve been lost on the war front.”
Cohen quiets behind me. I want to plead with him to keep hope, only those words are dashed by the soldiers, determined men in steel armor, who come to mind. It seems if Finn has any chance at all of making it out of the war unscathed, it cannot be more than a sliver.
“I swore to my mother that I’d help Finn if it became necessary,” Cohen confesses. “That I’d save him from the war if needed.”
My brow furrows. “But isn’t that what you just said you cannot do?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment. “I won’t let Finn get hurt. Right now he’s near the front and training. Should the war start and his unit move into action, then I’ll have to do something about it.”
“What will you do?”
“Whatever it takes.” His reply has the cadence of a death march. “I won’t let him die.”
I’ve no doubt that Cohen would fight every man on the battlefield to save his brother. Cohen’s need to take care of everyone around him is a weakness as much as it’s a strength. One man cannot control everything, though. A reality Cohen has yet to accept. I just hope we can prove his innocence first so he’s not walking into his execution.
I want to say something that’ll buoy him up, give him some fraction of hope. But I’ve never been the person who believes the impossible to be possible.
“I’m sorry” is all I say, and even then I feel lacking when I mumble the words, “I wish there were something I could do.”
“Being near you is enough,” he whispers.
His words. Always an arrow to my heart.
I lean against him as he wraps one arm around my waist, our bodies cinching closer together until I’m not sure who is holding the other up.
The early evening is sooty, taunting us with a light drizzle as we enter the Skyward Forest. Unlike anywhere we’ve been before, these woods are packed with the most massive trees I’ve ever seen. Ancient, thick, and tall, each one is a mountain.
The trees eat our sounds as Siron maneuvers over the lush ferns. The thick, permeating quiet makes my thoughts feel too loud.
Being near you is enough.
It’s all I’ve thought of since the words left Cohen’s lips. Did he mean in that specific moment? Or in general? I turn his sentence over in my head, his words like garden compost, shifting and breaking down until they’ve fallen apart.
My thoughts scatter when thunder cracks over the forest. Siron snorts and prances. Cohen leans forward and pats the horse as I check our location. Trees like an army of giants stand shoulder to shoulder, blocking our path. A few have low limbs, bent upward like drawn swords. I review the directions from the Channeler at the Elementiary and know we must be close, except I see no cave.
“It must be here somewhere.” I shrug in response to Cohen’s dubious look, though it’s clear he’s not satisfied with my vague answer.
Siron continues on, moving deeper into the woods, until once again we meet a line of trees that look like soldiers ready for combat.
“Haven’t we been here before?” I swivel and glance around.
“Not possible.” Cohen sounds as confused as me. “Siron’s been walking a straight path.”
In the underbrush dim, it’s difficult to make sense of all the shadows. I squint, looking closer, and notice two limbs held upward like swords.
“Look,” I squeak. “We have been here before. We’re walking in circles.”
Cohen takes a moment to survey the forest, his gaze roving over the plumes of ferns and tree giants, gathering information like he used to when apprenticing to Papa. He mutters a slew of swears. “You’re certain she was trustworthy?”
I dig my fingernails into my palms. I felt her honesty, I’m certain of it. “I’ve no doubts about the woman,” I say, my voice louder than intended, feigning confidence that I don’t quite possess.
“Then let’s take a closer look,” Cohen says.
We hop off Siron and start in separate directions to scan the forest. Walking in touching distance from the trees, I weave over and around their sprawling roots while I curse under my breath about the Channeler’s cryptic You’ll know when you see it madness. All I see are shadows and ferns and the rough bark of these mammoth trees, and more shadows.
“What—” A dark stain that starts near the roots of one tree and spreads upward seems to grow bigger as I approach it. My steps cautious, I keep my eye on the black spot as it arcs into what looks like a cave opening.
The soil is soft, dipping inward toward the cave. My foot slips closer and then Cohen appears at my side, his amazement mirroring my own shock. This is the tree cave the Elementiary Channeler spoke of.
Awe trembles through me.
Cohen’s fingers slip into mine, clenching tightly as we walk into the dark hole that wasn’t there a moment ago. With my free hand, I pull the pouch from my breeches.
“I think this is what we’re supposed to do,” I tell Cohen, jittery in anticipation as I tip the contents out, shaking them all over the padded ground.