Page 53

53

Clean Slate

Anya

R ain pattered gently on the roof, a song that made me want to burrow deeper under the warm sheets that surrounded me. I turned my face into the pillow beneath my head, a soft moan of satisfaction escaping my lips. After so many nights spent on the ground, this was what I’d been missing. I curled my toes under the weight of countless blankets, then arched my back, straightened my legs in a delicious stretch, and rolled over.

Gray light streamed in through the window, casting the room in a gauzy pallor. Rivulets of water ran down the pane, obscuring the outside. An upholstered chair had been dragged right up next to the bed but sat empty. There was a dresser in the far corner, with countless tiny bottles scattered across its top. A woman wearing an apron stood before it, mixing tinctures, filling the room with an astringent herbal scent.

At the sound of my stirring, she turned. Her strong jaw and short blonde hair were vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her. My memory felt foggy.

“Anya,” she cooed, her voice like warm velvet. “You’re awake.”

The woman floated closer, her layered skirts swishing. She laid the back of her hand across my forehead, her skin cool but not drastically different in temperature from my own.

“Your fever has broken, well done,” she told me, as if my slumber had been a feat.

Then again, maybe it had. My body felt weak with over-rest. “What…happened?” I croaked.

“Stay right there,” she said with a wink, “and I’ll get someone who can say.”

She hurried from the room, the wooden floorboards squeaking. I heard her muffled voice, then a much deeper one, with heavier strides returning. The door flung open again, and this time Idris filled its space.

Darkness ringed his tired eyes. His face was clean-shaven but drawn. Yet at the sight of my wakefulness, his expression shifted from weary to uncertain to rejoicing.

He rushed over and sank into the chair positioned at my bedside. Then his scarred palm was smoothing my hair out of my eyes, cupping my cheek. I gripped his wrist, finding it warm and firm and here . With me.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the woman said, then the door snicked shut.

Idris’s eyes searched mine, like he couldn’t quite believe that I was awake—like he hadn’t expected me to wake up. “Anya, Dearest,” he murmured, and there was so much contained in the endearment. Pain and fear and suffering. Doubt and dread and anguish. Gratitude and affection and…something deeper, more passionate and possessive.

Memory swept across my mind like a storm.

Dungeon. Forest. Monster. Pool. Then flashes of the aftermath of my Death Mirror’s vision: my head lifting above the surface again, blood rinsing off Idris’s hands and dispersing, his arms hugging me close, his shirt sopping wet. His resonant voice pleading, “ Please be alright. Please be alright. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you. This can’t be it .”

The clouds of memory shifted, and next I saw the underside of Idris’s scruffy jawline, tree branches and blue sky above his head. I heard Oderin’s wry voice. Saw the golden sheen of Briar’s fur. Felt the juddering of hooves. Heard the squeak of hinges. Smelled fresh linens. Tasted tinctures.

As it all came rushing back, I stared at Idris here and now, wondering what had happened between my blips of consciousness. In the moments I couldn’t remember. My lungs rattled with a long sigh.

Idris’s thumb brushed my temple. “How do you feel?”

I knew his question was about my physical being, but as I stared at his concerned face, I answered with the first word that came to mind: “Safe.”

His forehead furrowed, and a short exhale left him, like my answer was the sweetest of gifts. “Do you hurt?”

The question brought with it a new flash of memory: of shredded skin and exposed bone and pain , so much pain.

I sat up in a rush, head swimming with a nauseating dizziness. I flung back the covers to reveal my legs, bare and untouched beneath the short hem of a fresh nightgown. Pink scars swirled in a delicate pattern over my right leg, but otherwise, it was just fine .

I covered my face with my hands and let out another long, shaky sigh. I breathed. Breathed again. I remembered the well’s magic healing me, but this ? This was hard to wrap my head around. My leg had been ruined beyond repair.

“How does it feel?” Idris prompted.

I wiggled my toes, circled my ankle. “Like nothing.”

He moved toward me, then, crowding the small bed with his huge frame. As he laid on his side beside me, the mattress dipped under his weight, tilting me against his chest like gravity.

I gave into its pull.

Nestling against his solid body, I snaked my arm around his waist, sliding my hand underneath his shirt to feel his warm solidity. He snaked his fingers into my hair, then ran them down my shoulder, over my hip, and around to the small of my back, pulling me closer. His movements were gentle, restrained, like he didn’t want to break me. I squeezed him tighter, my limbs heavy, but also strong and needy for the delicious strength of his hold.

His chin grazed my cheek, and he pressed a kiss to my temple. I felt a bit of wetness cling to my hairline, and I pulled back to stare at his face. A tear slid over his cheekbone.

Here was a man who’d grown up in poverty, experienced the loss of his family one by one, who was huge and strong and incredibly brave, who fought terrifying abominations with a sword of fucking flame —and he was moved to tears of relief over me .

My heart began to pound in my chest like it wanted to break free, to offer itself up to him just to take those tears away. I felt so full in that moment I thought my ribs might crack open.

Idris didn’t wipe his face or turn away. He let me witness his emotion plainly. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” I said, wiping his tears away with my fingertips. “I’m here because of you.”

He leaned closer, the tip of his nose brushing the tip of mine. He breathed me in, then pressed a kiss to my lips, the touch so tender it felt breakable. I was done with feeling breakable, though. I deepened the kiss, fortifying myself with this moment. Idris acquiesced, cradling my face, opening his mouth to devour mine.

But new thoughts were rushing in from all sides. Questions that needed answering.

I pulled back. “Where are we?”

“We’re outside the capital,” Idris answered. “Oderin’s sister’s house. She’s been tending to you.”

I sat up again and considered the room. Idris did the same, adjusting so that his back rested against the headboard. When I looked at him again—his huge frame taking up so much space in my tiny sickbed—I remembered the last time I saw him propped up like this. Broad chest and hard abdominals. I flushed.

Seeming to note the direction of my thoughts, Idris smirked and pulled me to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Seems you’re feeling better.”

My attention found the dresser again, tinctures scattered atop it. “Wait—Oderin’s sister Phina?” I asked. “That’s who’s been taking care of me?” That’s why her strong jaw and coloring looked so familiar—she looked like a more feminine Oderin. At Idris’s confused look, I elaborated. “Oderin told me about how you met. The horse thing.”

Idris’s smile widened for a flash, then he kissed me again, quick and chaste.

But other memories were beginning to seep in, cold as the draft wafting inside from the window. The rain poured harder, thundering on the roof.

It’s for the best that we part ways , he’d told me in the dungeon.

And yet he’d followed me into the forest.

Found me.

Saved me.

“You’re here,” I noted.

“I’m here.”

I touched the triangle of skin exposed by his shirt, then dipped my fingertips underneath, grazing the scar that crossed his right pectoral. The old injury had faded considerably, the scar tissue no longer so hard and gnarled. He caught my hand with his and kissed the center of my palm, then rested it back on his chest, over his heart.

I glanced up to find him studying me. “You came for me.”

One corner of his mouth lifted, a mischievous grin taking shape. “I came for you.”

Realizing the double-entendre, I smiled and shoved his chest—but our humor dissipated quickly.

“Are you…staying?” I asked, allowing the true implication—staying with me? —to go unsaid.

“I should’ve never left, Anya,” he said quickly. “I was—” A sigh gusted out of him. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I was afraid I’d endanger you even more than I already had. I was afraid that our tangled Fates would lead me to do something horrible. I was afraid I’d lose—” He broke off, voice catching, but he wasn’t done. “I was afraid I’d lose you like I lost Grinnick. My fault. I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“Clearly, I wasn’t.”

He tipped his head. “But you were,” he insisted. “You took the risk. You did what few would dare do and braved the forest by yourself. You faced multiple foes and succeeded. You’re incredible .”

“I would’ve died without you,” I whispered.

He pulled me closer, hugging me against him. I could feel the tension rippling through him, the torment of his own dark memories. The worry that hadn’t quite yet faded.

“How long have we been here?” I asked.

“Three days.”

“Three—” I shook my head disbelievingly. “I’ve been asleep for three days?”

He nodded. “More, if you count the journey.”

Though I’d noticed the weariness on his face when he’d walked in, I saw the depth of it now. A sleeplessness that seemed to have soaked into his marrow. “Have you slept?” I asked.

A doting expression—all up-tilted brows—spread across his forehead. “Fitfully,” he answered, and the word warmed me to my core.

I slid my palm appreciatively over the expanse of his chest, then angled it up toward his throat, my thumb finding the deep hollow. His skin was smooth, tan, untouched by—

I jerked back. “You’re Oath tattoo is gone.”

“So is yours.”

I swallowed, sensing the absence of the Oath of Proving I’d taken. But that was nothing compared to Idris’s freedom. His neck didn’t even bear the faded mark of retirement—his was completely gone. Like it never existed.

“You’re no longer bound? How ?”

He shrugged. “The Well,” he said, as if the absence of his Oath was a simple thing, and not everything . “It healed my wounds, too. Even old ones.”

I shook my head, struggling to wrap my head around what he was telling me. “Are you alright?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “Yes?”

“No, I mean…” I sat up taller, no longer leaning on him but regarding him fully. He hadn’t wanted to give up his Oath, and yet the pool had taken it from him. “What about Grinnick? What about—”

“I’m glad it’s gone,” Idris said. “I planned to retire after I helped you anyway, but then I entered the water, and I felt it dissolving, and I was glad. I let it happen. I let it go.”

“But—”

“You were right, Anya,” he continued. “About Grinnick. About everything. I was hiding behind my Oath—not out of duty or true service of good, but self-punishment.” He gripped the side of my neck, holding my gaze as he repeated firmly, “I’m glad it’s gone.”

“Your Fortune…” I trailed off. “It was the same as my Death, after all. My rebirth.”

Idris nodded. “The end of one Fate and the start of another.”

“How does that make sense, though? How is that your greatest Fortune?”

He tipped his head like he couldn’t believe my question. “Don’t you see, Anya? You are my Fortune. Searching for you. Helping you. Giving up my Oath for you. Loving y—” His eyes widened, like he hadn’t meant to admit it now, like this. But then he smiled, settling into his truth. “ You are my greatest Fate, and loving you is my greatest Fortune.”

I stared at him, a torrent of emotion flooding my chest like a storm of liquid gold. I was overcome. I was speechless. I was…probably worrying him with my lack of response.

“You know I love you, too, right?” I managed. “And it’s not just puppy love, it’s real , it’s—”

Idris interrupted me with a kiss—one meant to scorch. His mouth slid over mine, and I returned his vigor with my own, a blaze of joy streaking through me like a shooting star. I moaned softly into his mouth, clutched at his shirt, aching for his closeness—but my body was still weak and recovering. I could feel it in the way I lost steam, even now, my fervor cooling despite the curling need in my belly.

Idris seemed to sense it, too, his cascade of kisses softening until the moment faded altogether, and he simply held me against him, warm and safe and secure in his arms. For a while, we listened to the rain.

But there was still so much to know, to talk through.

“What of Halgren?”

Idris chuckled. “What about Halgren?”

“Does it still glow blue?”

“No,” he said. “That was a magic bestowed upon the blade by my Oath. Without it, Halgren is just a sword. Does that disappoint you?”

“A little,” I said, quirking a brow. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy the sight of you wielding it.” I held out my fist, miming a few sword slashes.

His chuckle morphed into a laugh, shaking us both.

“Without Halgren’s flame, how did we escape the forest?”

His laughter died. “I carried you.”

“Did you not encounter more foes?”

“We had unexpected help,” he said, and for a moment I thought he wouldn’t go on, but then he clarified: “Valiant Knights.”

That shocked me. “Patrolling the forest?”

“Something like that.”

I sensed there was more to that story, but we didn’t have to unveil every secret now, in this bed. More answers would come in time.

“Oderin helped, too,” Idris added.

“How did you get past him to begin with?”

“I bested him,” Idris stated—not without a hint of pride. “Shackled him to a tree.”

“I’m sure he loved that. Is he here?”

“He’s out. He’ll be back.”

The more we spoke, the more I thought about everything I’d faced—everything I’d done. I wondered about the one-eyed man, the monsters, the other Orders, and their secrets. More topics to one day uncover with Idris—but not presently. Not when it was dawning on me that I’d faced all those horrors for a reason . For a place so dear to me that I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant I could return…

“Can I…can I go home now?” I asked Idris.

He grinned. “Yes. But we have one more stop, first.”

Right . Of course. My absolution wouldn’t be complete without an audience with the Lord. A part of me feared he’d find another twisted way to keep me imprisoned, but Idris’s assuredness eased my concerns.

I regarded him straight-on. I had one more question—and it was the most important one. “Will you…come to Waldron-on-Wend with me?”

“I will escort you, if you wish,” Idris said, his tone reluctant.

Apparently, declarations of love weren’t enough. He needed me to speak plainly—to ask for exactly what I wanted. I was happy to oblige.

“No,” I said firmly. “I mean: will you stay in Waldron with me? Now that you aren’t Oath-bound?”

His face remained stoic for a moment—then it quaked, like the first rumbling of an avalanche of devotion. He swiveled, cradling my cheeks with two big, beautiful hands. “If you’ll have me,” he said. “If you want me to stay with you, then I’ll stay.”

“Then you’re staying,” I confirmed, nodding my head. “You’re escorting me to Waldron and you’re staying and you’re never leaving, because I love you, Idris, and the Fate I want is the Fate with you and me together.”

“Good,” he said breathlessly, “because that’s the only Fate I want.”