“No matter what happens I will always be there,” he said.
The idea of him wasn’t just an escape from reality behind the Iron Gates. He wasn’t a dream anymore. He was here, and he felt the same way about me as I did about him. It wasn’t his fault that I never took that leap with Jeremody. It was my burden to bear, not his. And what was the point of living if I was consumed by my past mistakes? “I like you too,” I mumbled into his shirt. I knew he heard me because he wrapped his arms even more securely around me. I lifted my head and kissed the side neck.
"Mmm. Mahlia, what are you trying to do to me?" he mumbled.
I kissed his neck again and again.
"I wish we were alone right now," he whispered into my hair. His words sent chills down my spine. I found myself wishing the same thing. His hands slowly started to slide down my back.
I had been beating myself up over my feelings for Jeremody. I did love him. But I had never felt like this around him. I closed my eyes. Breghton made me feel wild and free. His fingers tangled in my hair as he drew my lips back up to his. He made my fears and worries disappear. And I believed his promises of never leaving me. Maybe he was right. Maybe we were always supposed to take this journey together.
My breathing suddenly grew uneven. “Ow!” I screamed pushing away from him. I hunched over in pain, grabbing my side.
“Mahlia!”
The world around me began to spin as the pain engulfed me. My body collapsed. I felt my head smash against the rock and everything went dark.
***
I was back inside the Iron Gates. It was so quiet. Everyone must have still been sleeping. I turned to run, but stopped dead in my tracks. Swishel’s decaying body hung in the air at the gate’s entrance. A rope was tied around her neck. The breeze picked up around me and her limp body began to sway. It was no secret that she had been tortured. There was a pool of blood beneath her with large, red footprints beside it. So many new iron-coated skulls lined the top of the fence.
A booming voice made my hair stand on end. I quickly turned my head. Mortwar stood behind me, his eyes full of hatred. I shrieked in horror. But he didn't hear me. He was talking to one of his minions. He couldn’t see me. I looked down at my hands but there was nothing there. I had to be dreaming. I heard his words around me but I couldn’t pay attention. The stage behind him was dyed with more divinare blood than I had ever seen before. Mortwar was becoming more violent.
“That filth,” he snarled, pointing at Swishel's body, “let the only predictor escape!” He spat on the ground. “Swishel was the only one that knew where the little brat went. We had a deal. No one breaks a deal with me!”
“But sir,” his companion tried to get Mortwar’s attention. “You don’t need the girl. You already know your destiny.”
Mortwar lifted his arm and rammed it into the other brutarian’s chest, knocking him to the ground. “What, you think my plan is stupid?” He lifted his fist into the air.
"Mortwar." Quinwar had appeared by his side. She grabbed his chin and turned his head to face her. “No, no. Niwar meant that the end is already clear. You follow in your ancestor’s footsteps. The girl may be the next ruler, but you shall kill her. You will be the new king killer and take back what is rightfully yours, what is rightfully ours.”
Quinwar rarely ever spoke. She usually just sat by Mortwar's side silently. Her voice was quiet, yet sinister. I could feel myself shaking.
A smile broke over Mortwar’s ugly face. “No,” he said, and deep laughter rippled out of his mouth. “I have a better idea. I will be the next king, but her skin will forever show my fate!”
***
Shouts brought me back from unconsciousness. My head seared with pain. I reached towards where it hurt and felt a bandage moistened with blood and salt water. I looked around, but I was all alone. Daylight had faded and I was surrounded by darkness. I touched the side of my ribcage. Even through my clothing I could still feel heat radiating off of the symbols. They hadn’t faded. Every other time they had hurt, the color had disappeared and the symbols had healed, revealing fresh skin, unmarked by lashings or symbols. But these symbols hurt more than ever. It was as if they had been etched into my skin slowly with a dull knife.
The yells continued to echo around me.
“Breghton?” I mumbled. I tried to stand but I was too dizzy. The noises around me grew louder as the pounding in my head started to subside. And then I heard the low growl of a mountain dweller. “Breghton,” I attempted to yell, but only a whisper escaped my lips. I wanted to stand, but the world still spun around me. I hunched over and retched. The smell of rancid blumberries pierced my nose and I continued to throw up until there were none left inside of me. I got up slowly, my knees still shaking. The pain searing through my back made me forget about the wound on my head.
I made my way to the edge of the rocks and looked down. I saw flashes of blue light below me. “Breghton!” I yelled, this time in full force.
He turned away from the beast just for a second to look up.
“No!” I screamed, but Breghton’s eyes were still on me. The mountain dwellers teeth clamped down on Breghton’s arm. He turned and slashed the beast’s jaw with the glowing dagger. The mountain dweller snarled in pain as he released Breghton’s arm. He then backed up and sat down on his back legs, glaring at Breghton.
I climbed down the rocks as fast as I could in order to reach the part of the mountains that Breghton was on. The blue glow from the blade had lit up his injured arm. Blood spilled from the large bite marks on his broken skin. I pulled the bandage from my head and placed in on his injury. Only then did I notice the ropes wrapped around the mountain dweller’s body, tied off on a nearby rock. Breghton had captured him. The beast’s eyes were filled with hatred. His lips were pulled back, showing off his large, sharp teeth, as he continued to growl.
“Are you insane?” I hissed at Breghton. “You could have been killed.”
“I was doing fine before you startled me!” His voice was filled with malice.
I took a step back from him. He dropped the dagger. His hand was shaking badly, probably from the injury on his arm.
“I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I don’t know, I…” he paused and looked at the mountain dweller. He shook his head back and forth, seemingly coming out of a daze. “I thought the beast could help us.”