Page 12

THE FECKING SPIRIT

SERYN

M orning light rudely poured over my face. I blinked away my momentary disorientation, one arm falling over the edge of the narrow bed, the other blanketing my eyes. From under my arm, I peeked at Gavrel, his bare chest rising and falling with his gentle breaths.

A stifled groan of annoyance hummed in my throat. It had taken me entirely too long to fall asleep. Uninhibited images of Gavrel’s hot skin sliding over mine—his lips and hands and tongue all over my body—had scampered behind my eyelids well into the early morning.

I pushed my face into my arm, blocking out my view of him. Served me right, not being able to stare at his ridiculously honed muscles until my shameless eyeballs fell from my damned, drool-ridden face.

A sudden bang crashed against the front door, and I tumbled out of the bed in a heap, curls spilling over my face and shoulders haphazardly .

Gavrel lurched out of bed, his sword already in his hand as his gaze whipped to me and then the door as it slammed open.

“These are the slack-tits we’re here to find? Bloody fecking void, Rhaeg. A desert snail moves faster than these shite piles. I’m not mad at”—she wiggled her fingers at Gavrel’s body—“all this though.”

“Breena!” I leaped up and charged her. A look of utter horror raced across her heart-shaped face, and her crimson aura sparked around her as she held her hands up defensively. I slammed into her, hugging her tense body tightly.

“Who attacks a stranger with a hug?” she groused, patting my back stiffly a couple of times before pushing me from her at arm’s length. “You must be Seryn. I hear you killed me in the trials.” She tilted her head toward Rhaeger, who filled the space beside her with a sheepish smile.

My expression fell at the reminder. Her arms dropped as a wry laugh fell from her grin. “Eh, don’t get your panties in a bunch. If you bested me, then I like you already.” She winked, and I offered her a glum smile in return.

Rhaegar lifted his hand loosely, palm up, as the corner of his wide mouth hung up in a lopsided grin. “Morning. I’d offer apologies, but you know very well I had no control over her entrance.”

Gavrel sniffed, tossing his tunic on and then greeting his second-in-command with a brief squeeze on the shoulder before gathering his belongings.

“It’s damn good to see you, my friend.” He nodded to Breena, and she smirked, dropping her arms from me and circling the small room.

“Cordelya sends her greetings, by the by.”

Rhaegar grinned, his eyes raising to the ceiling as he rubbed his palm on his chest as if reliving a pleasant memory. “I’ll have to pay her a visit soon. Fine woman she is.”

I hugged Rhaegar, and he returned it in a tight embrace. “I’m pleased we found you here before you moved on. I hear you’ve met Yaya and Marek.” A wide grin spread across his teeth.

Gavrel strapped his sword onto his back. “I hear you are invaluable to the Korax,” he countered. I pulled my breeches on, readying myself as I watched their exchange .

Rhaegar lifted his chin, “That a problem, Commander?”

Gavrel approached his friend, assessing him as he paused. He inhaled, squaring his hips. “Not anymore.”

“New rebel in the making, eh? Welcome, Sir Grumbles,” Breena teased. I covered a snort behind my hand, the sound making me lighter.

Gavrel ignored us and nodded toward the exit. He sighed, clicking the door shut behind us as we stepped into the late morning sun. “We need more information about the Elders. More than what we’ve gathered over the turns. What their weaknesses are. How to dismantle and suppress their supporters.”

A look of pleased surprise rose across Rhaegar’s visage. “Glad to hear it. And might I say … it’s about time.” He slapped a palm on Gavrel’s shoulder and glanced at me. “We’ll request an audience with Yaya tonight. Although I’m certain she’ll find us first.”

Breena nudged my shoulder. “So, Ryn-Ryn.” I smiled and then remembered that this version of Breena didn’t know me at all. “Have you been to the bog fields yet? Navigating them really works the thighs.” She slapped hers for emphasis.

“Uh, no. We just arrived yesterday. Haven’t explored yet.”

Breena huffed. “And Marek was your tour guide. Pretty to look at, but what a salty ball sack.”

“Ah, so you two have a history then?”

Breena’s chin jutted to the side, her tongue poking at the inside of her opposite cheek. “We’ve crossed paths over the turns.”

I giggled, and she pursed her full lips. “Enough of him. Come with me.” She linked our elbows and tugged me past the men. The bridge swayed precariously as we rushed across.

“Seryn?” Gavrel called after us.

“We’ll meet you later,” I replied, holding my free hand up and shrugging helplessly.

“In the square this afternoon,” Breena yelled in a sing-song voice as we rushed away from them.

We roamed through the city. Its citizens were friendly, and Breena knew a few here and there. I supposed she and Rhaegar visited often through the turns as part of the Korax.

We passed through the square Breena had arranged to meet in later. It was near the epicenter of the city, its massive platform filled with various huts and shop counters. People bustling, trading, and bartering.

We came to a textile merchant’s stand, and I ran my fingers over a dress made of dark fabric. Metallic rainbow threads were woven through its gauzy layers in an intricate pattern.

“Gorgeous, right?” Breena said, poking her finger into the dress. “This thread is only found in the Bogs. Muckworm silk. Nasty little buggers, and difficult to find despite them being as big as my arm.

“But the muckers make good coin, swamp diving and hunting them down. And then those little, slimy assholes have a whole play area set up in a small Bogs town west of here where they live out their days in wormy luxury.” Breena’s hands were so animated I thought she might fly away.

“I mean, would you rather live in the mud, or a cushy kingdom where you get to eat all day, relax, and shite rainbows?”

My laughter bubbled over, and I bent over, clutching my stomach.

Breena crinkled her nose as if I had gone crazy, then she started laughing hard as well.

By the time we settled, my belly was sore. I wiped the wetness from my cheeks as we left the square. “I missed you, Bree. I know you can’t say the same, but I’m happy you’re here.”

She wiped her cheeks and slung an arm around me. “Welp, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m positive I’ve missed you. I just don’t know it yet.”

My pulse fluttered. “Breena, I … I have something that could bring back your memories.”

Her eyebrows crushed together, and her wide mouth pinched in confusion.

“We found a Mirage Orchid during the trials, and my chambermaid, Derya, made a tonic from it. It’s how I regained my memories. Would you … would you want to use it?” I shuffled my feet, chin dipping slightly.

“Oh, damn right I do.” She beamed.

I smirked. “Only works during the full moon.”

“It’s a date, then. Can’t wait to remember all the shite probably best left forgotten.” Chuckling, Breena slowed as we came to a quiet bridge and looked over the side. “Ready?”

“Ready for wha?—”

Before I could finish, she swung under the rope railing and over the edge.

A surprised squeak flew from me, and I lunged forward, gripping the rope.

Breena was chuckling as she climbed down a swaying ladder and dropped into a small boat tethered below. She looked up, mirth dancing in her rich brown eyes. “Get in, we’re going hummock jumping.”

I shook my head and made my way down. Breena whistled. “No wonder Gavrel wants a piece. Just look at that arse.”

I chuffed a laugh as I plopped into the boat clumsily. “He does not. You’ve only just met us—what was it—slack-wits? So, I doubt you’ve picked up on that so soon.”

“Listen, slack-tit , if I know anything about the male species, and I do”—she wiggled her eyebrows—“that muscled hunk of meat wants in your breeches something fierce.”

An awkward giggle reverberated in my chest as I grabbed one oar from her and jabbed it into the hazy water.

I pushed thoughts of Gavrel aside, like I had been for days. But I knew she was right.

That didn’t mean it was right.

I needed to focus on finding Kaden. On destroying the Elders. Not pine after Gavrel like some bloody fledgling.

I sat taller in the gently rocking boat as I rowed behind Breena.

We passed a small group of people diving under the brackish surface, alternatively popping up and plopping slimy beasts into a woven rope basket on the side of their skiffs .

“Muckers!” Breena shouted gleefully, waving at them. Some of them waved back; the others were too busy diving again and again. I shuddered at the thought of swimming and excavating the muddy depths.

Sighing, I pushed against my oar, the monotonous movement both soothing and wearisome as memories of Gavrel slinked into the depths of my awareness. The way he always watched over me. When his plump lips formed a grim line. A smile that cracked on the sides when I said something funny.

Then his mouth on mine. His hardness straining at his breeches before his bath.

I bit my lip hard each time, chasing each unbidden thought away with the nip of pain.

Halfway through an hour, we reached the bog field, and my bottom lip was now raw.

Fuck .

Breena tied our vessel to a thick doombark nestled against an expansive field of water-logged hollows and bulky mounds of compacted bog moss—hummocks. A drooping fog slithered into the horizon.

She hopped onto a nearby knoll, her arms spread out at either side, stabilizing herself.

She grinned. “All right, you ’lil snack.

You can take your chances walking in the mud, but one wrong step, and it’ll suck you right under.

Never know if it’s solid or just a bunch of peat floating in a hollow.

” She made a slurping noise, her cheeks hollowing before leaping to the next visible heap.