Page 47 of In The Dark

Ren leans forward on his knees, a stone dagger firm in his grip as he carves into a block of wood. A gentle reminder that he couldn’t be the Siphon since he’s a Stone Shaper. He’s quite skilled at creating his own weapons, never leaving without the knives he’s created. They perfectly fit into his palm as he scrapes the sharp edge against the softness of the wood.

“What are you carving?” I ask, wondering why I even bother in the first place. He looks up, then lowers his brows, returning to his task, as if trying to ignore me.

“Myst,” he mumbles after a few breaths. I continue to watch in silence for a few minutes as he makes the intricate slices, shavings falling to the ground. “We used to be friendly with each other, you know,” he says.

A flicker of surprise crosses my face, orbs suddenlyfluttering out over his mumbled words. Perhaps that’s why he looked at me the way he did in the field.

Then I scoff, recalling my life and how we were raised. Nothing but weapons for King Elion—we were anything but friendly.

“We’ve never been friendly. You’ve always acted like I was a giant inconvenience to be around,” I say with a scowl.

His eyes flick up with a confusing pinch to his brows, like he doesn’t believe that. At any other point in my life, I might have liked him for his quick wit, but Ren’s loyalty to the crown leaves me to believe I couldn’t trust him. Even if I wanted to.

Yet I find myself hesitating on the thought, if only for a moment. After discovering my memories have been siphoned over the last few years, it forces me to question everything now. And I hate that.

I quickly recall Rydian’s memories of how I called for Ren at the orphanage—like we were familiar. Perhaps we were at some point, and I just don’t remember. That thought alone is infuriating.

After walking to grab Bjorn’s saddle, I place it near the fire, unpacking my quilt. I’m careful not to say anything outright as I prod for more information, wanting to see if he lets anything slip.

“Friendly or friends?” I ask finally, airing out my quilt. “You’ve hated me from the moment we started to train. Just because you were forced to train me doesn’t mean you know me.”

He glances up, catching my gaze as the fire flicks between us, then glances to the right, watching the stream ahead. Shadows dance across his face as the sun sets behind the mountain, casting dark shadows amongst the forest.

I sit, sip from my canteen, and think of what words to say next as the orbs dance on my fingertips again.

“You’re moody,” he says into his carving—an attempt at a subject change.Interesting.

“Going back to the castle makes me moody… I feel like something is missing.” I mutter the words even though it’s risky, like I can’t help myself. “You know, I used to imagine my life in a small town when I was younger. A place where I left all of this behind and just lived somewhere quiet. Maybe in a forest somewhere.” Yet what I say is true.

I used to lie awake at night, dreaming of a small cabin in the woods to call my own. A place of escape where I could be free of the king’s obligation, only killing out of necessity. And although I’m great at becoming a weapon, I wish my life had more meaning. Orbs play on my fingertips, and I roll them from finger to finger when my wrist suddenly begins to ache.

A groan of frustration leaves me as I thumb the inside of my wrist, the orbs fluttering out with the movement.

Ren straightens as if uncomfortable, adjusting his feet before crossing them at the ankles. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. He cautiously looks over his shoulder, then goes back to carving, ignoring me completely.

After another few minutes of silence, I find myself near the stream, tossing in rocks to pass the time. The stars stare back at me when movement to the right catches my attention, and I find Ren walking the horses back to the campsite. I quietly follow, overhearing his mumbled words to Bjorn as he grips the reins.

“No… I don’t know,” Ren says quietly against the wind, barely audible even for my ears. “Can’t interfere, you know that… maybe one day… no, I don’t wear it… how do you know that?”

My brows pinch in confusion just as a twig snaps beneath my boot, forcing me to freeze. Ren suddenly whips his head around, eyeing me from a few feet away before he huffs in frustration, then walks toward the fire. He quickly ties them off,sitting at the boulder he was occupying a few minutes ago while I stand across from him.

A sudden unease washes over me. Questions rest on the tip of my tongue. I’m suddenly curious what his conversation with Bjorn was about when leaves rustle behind him.

Within a second, I’m palming the dagger that was secured to my thigh when Ezra enters from the shadows, holding three rabbits by their back feet. Blood coats their faces, the only evidence of a quick kill.

My shoulders relax when Ivy gently grazes my mind but doesn’t speak for the remainder of the night. We spend the rest of the evening preparing our meal, making quiet conversation. Ren throws me a few questionable glances throughout the night, but I ignore them, passing them off as curiosity about our conversation from earlier.

Now I turn over, resting my head on Bjorn’s saddle with the quilt on my lap, thinking back on our previous conversation. I suddenly get the feeling that I’m missing vital information if Ren might have liked me at one point.

My thumb rubs the inside of my wrist as it begins to ache again, whirling thoughts preventing me from sleep. Stars shine down at me through the swaying branches, the light breeze brushing my cheeks. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m missing more memories than we initially suspected.

And I’m determined to get them back.

16

After rising this morning,we quickly loaded up the horses and set off for Alvonia. Rydian walks—or travels the Veil—the rest of the way. I’m thankful for the reprieve, leaving me to sit with everything that’s happened over the last few days as my trust wavers between realms.

Bjorn continues his leisurely pace now that we’re only a few miles outside the city, the ride going by quickly. Ren and Ezra remain a few miles behind me, having slowed after a while.