inn.
I woke long before dawn, the echo of a scream still on my lips. The nightmares were even more unbearable with the uncertainty of the future looming before me. Sweat slicked my skin, and the darkness writhed around me, a living, oppressive thing, breathing down my neck with the heat and relentlessness of nighttime in the jungles of Antion. Through the open window I heard the far-off sound of a group of monkeys chittering back and forth. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, warning of the storm to come.
I sat up in bed, looking down to make sure Eljin still lay on the floor beside me. The innkeeper had offered us two rooms, but we’d elected to stay together. I was grateful to have Eljin close by, but I missed the comfort of actually sleeping beside him. If I closed my eyes and shut my mind off long enough, I could almost convince myself that he was Marcel. With everything that had happened in the last couple of months, I’d barely had any time to let myself mourn my brother’s death, and suddenly, sitting there in the darkness, with the soft pattering of rain beginning to slap at the roof, his loss nearly overwhelmed me. How had I gotten here? Almost completely alone, save for a Blevonese sorcerer, rushing through the jungle that I hated and feared, leaving my fiancé behind to go after my friend in hopes of rescuing him from the biggest, most powerful kingdom known to me.
Marcel, are you still near me? Do you still try to watch over me as you did when you were alive? Are you with Mama and Papa? Are they proud of the person I’ve become — do they watch over me, too? My heart was raw, flayed by loss and grief and fear for what was still to come.
Throwing off the thin blanket I’d slept beneath, I stood and crossed to the window. My fingers curled around the windowsill, my nails biting into the hard wood as I squeezed my eyes shut and lifted my face to the soft, damp breeze. It carried the scent of rain and flowers, of moist soil and green things sucking the water in and growing ever larger, ever stronger. The jungle was resilient; it never stopped trying to press forward, to expand and thrive. As much as I hated the dangers it held, I couldn’t help but admire the beauty it possessed — and the tenacity it represented.
Opening my eyes, I stared out into the night sky spreading like thick, choking smoke over the canopy of the rain forest. Heavy clouds of black and gray pulsed with occasional lightning, and the sprinkling rain was slowly growing more insistent. Bending out to grab the handle, I pulled the window shut, securing it before the rainstorm began in earnest.
When I turned around, Eljin was sitting up watching me. I jumped back with a swallowed scream, my hand instinctively dropping to my sword, but finding only empty air. I’d unstrapped my scabbard and slept next to it, feeling safe enough not to sleep with my sword in my hand.
“You scared me,” I said shakily.
“I apologize. You seemed upset; I didn’t want to disturb you.” Eljin rose to his feet with the natural grace of a fighter.
I moved back over to the bed, sitting down heavily and staring at the floor. “I was thinking of my brother.”
There was silence for a moment, and then he said, “I wish I’d had the pleasure of knowing him. I’ve heard nothing but praise for the kind of person he was.”
I nodded, my eyes burning again, not daring to speak for fear the grief I’d had to bury would come pouring out. We didn’t have time for me to dissolve into a complete breakdown. Maybe one day, if we ever succeeded in stopping Armando … if there was ever true peace … maybe then I’d have the luxury of allowing myself to truly mourn.
But for now I swiped at my cheeks, took a deep breath, and stood, picking up my bow and quiver of arrows off the ground and strapping them on. “We’d better head out. We’ve already lost a whole night that they might have continued on through.”
“I’ll go see if the horses are here yet.” Eljin quietly moved to the door and slipped out of the room, leaving me alone to compose myself.
I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else I loved. I wasn’t sure I would be able to survive it.