Page 44 of The Shadow of Polaris

“We’re out of water. I’m going to go look for a spring to refill.”

Before he could argue, I turned on my heels and trudged into the neighboring trees. With Arcturas at my side, we stepped over roots and ducked under branches. Following a faint rush of water, we made our way to a narrow creek that gargled peacefully through the forest.

Bright, young fiddleheads had poked their way through the earth and tall, thin trees stretched toward the blue sky above us. Kneeling beside the creek, I dunked my hand into the water and allowed it to bubble into the mouth of the skin. The woodland air was smooth as I breathed deeply and sunk into my heels, sitting against the cool riverbank. I leaned back, letting my neck relax and my chin tip up to the sky. Sparrows chirped their amicable tunes as a grey squirrel, munching on a nut, sat perched in the branch above me.

This is what I was fighting for.

I had to endure just a little longer until this was all over. The freedom of the forest was sweet on my lips. I Inhaled, then exhaled until my frustration subsided.

“Elpis, I’m sorry,” Aryx said from behind me. “What I did was unforgivable. I know that. I-”

“I let you in, let you see everything. I was vulnerable with you, and it was all a lie. You saw how broken I am and you played that to your advantage.”

“I know. I’m sorry, truly, I am. I hated having to do that to you.” He sat on the bank next to me, tossing a pebble into the babbling water below.

“There was no blade against your throat, you chose to manipulate me. You chose to lie to my face.”

“It wasn’t all a lie, Elpis. What I said, the things we shared. Those weren’t lies.” Aryx turned to me.

“That’s horseshit, and you know it.” I snapped, “I told you things I hadn’t even admitted to myself yet, Aryx, and you used it against me.”

We sat in silence, watching the stream trickle by. Hatred burned in my throat as I looked at my shaking hands. Funny how in a matter of seconds, everything I thought to be true became a lie. Someone I trusted, cared for, even loved, became my enemy. I couldn’t bear to look upon the man who once touched my skin, whispered words of kindness to me, comforted me. He was gone. In his place, a manipulator. An abuser. Someone so selfish they’d use the fragility of a broken mind to their advantage. He disgusted me. Nauseated me.

“I led the invasion into Aquilae. I commanded my men to slaughter those innocent people and burn their homes to the ground. When I said Altair and I have a rocky past, it’s because I was the one that held the blade to his chest during the last battle. I fully intended to kill him that day. It would have been easy to plunge my sword through his heart. My mother threatened that if I didn’t lead that attack, she would kill my father. If he knew what I’d become, the killer she had molded me into, I think he’d rather have died.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “I’m the monster, not you.”

I inhaled deeply, staring at the killer sitting beside me. Regret shadowed his eyes, and I watched as his lower lip shook between breaths. The tattoo down the side of his face stretched and creased against the sadness washing over him.

“It’s not the blood on your hands that makes you a monster Aryx. Everyone in war causes bloodshed. It’s the ease with which you toy with people that does.” I sprung to my feet and left the half-god sitting on the riverbank.

Arcturas nipped at his hand as she passed, following me back to the trail. We rode in silence until reaching the gates of Canissa. The shiver of Autumn bit my fingers as I led Kratos through the large, wooden gates. Everything else inside was already frozen to the bone.

Chapter 24

Farmers pulling their horse-drawn wagons rushed past us, hurrying to their fields. The nutty scent of crackling hearths and roasting meats hung low in the air as we carefully weaved through endless stretches of farmsteads and outdoor markets abundant with Autumn squash and cold weather harvests. Children, grimy with soil, pushed through us, giggling with joy. The rolling hills in the distance blazed with scarlet, terracotta, and gold.

“Let’s find an inn to stay the night. We’ll travel to Procyon’s temple in the morning,” Aryx said. There was a sharpness in his voice as he led Kratos down the trail.

Procyon was known as the jolly, immortal king. His mortal court was highly revered across the realms. The city flourished under his reign as the pillar of agriculture. Although loyal to Ursae, whispers of rumors spread that he yearned for new Northern leadership. Adria cut off major trade routes between the two cities, and I imagined it took an enormous chunk of wealth from this quaint farming city.

We traveled through narrow dirt roads, looping across red covered bridges and towering silos.

The quartz light of dusk soon settled across the land as we approached an A-frame tavern with painted black shutters and frosted glass windows. Smoke lingered from its chimney and the faint murmur of laughter and soft conversation could be heard from within.

Kratos and Arcturas happily settled into the inn’s wooden post enclosure, guzzling down the fresh troughs of spring water and playfully chasing each other around the tapered pasture.

Candlelight illuminated the inn’s interior, throwing amber warmth across pink-faced men and women, sipping ale and spooning pot pie from their plates.

“We’d like two rooms, please,” Aryx said to the innkeeper.

The small man, standing maybe four feet tall, threw back his neck to see the half-god’s golden face.

Through a thick grey beard that hung to his knees, he said, “Sorry sir, only got one available. We can bring up a cot, though, if you need.”

“Whatever’s available is fine, thanks.” Grumbling, I met Aryx’s sheepish smirk.

The innkeeper motioned to the iron staircase behind him and passed Aryx the key.

“The loft is on the top floor, taverns to your left. I think Cook’s serving mutton pies tonight. Make yourself at home.”

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