Page 29 of Of Flames and Fallacies (Arterian #1)

twenty-nine

WHO DO YOU TRUST

Every time I caught Archie’s gaze over the last few days, he looked away. It’s starting to make me nervous…because maybe I made a mistake in trusting him. I shouldn’t have put him in such a conflicting situation—but he hasn’t said anything about it. He hasn’t spoken of Daeja again. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or concerned. And every time I try to have a conversation with him, he finds a way to excuse himself.

I’ve been itching to see Cole—anything to confirm he’s safe and alive. But something in my stomach tenses at the vision of him hunched over the rebel’s dead body. Every time the memory resurfaces, I shove it back down, choking it off from the light of my mind.

I spend a majority of my time in the healer’s quadrant, sneaking off to see Daeja when I can. We spend our time at night flying over the lake, edging closer and closer to our impending deadline. We need that map. And as much as I don’t want to consider it, my mind snags on one thought. If Cole can’t come with us, could we leave on our own?

I deliberate whether or not I should steal the map from Darian’s room. But when I recalled our last interaction where I coerced him into rescuing Archie by exploiting his sister’s memory, I change my mind. I can only imagine what Darian’s unfiltered rage could mean for someone like me—I’m back to square one with him. We need Cole to get a map, and that means I needed to talk to him.

I’m bent over the sink in the healer’s quadrant, washing bottles and vials. A knock sounds on the door, and Cole strolls in. A huge weight lifts off my shoulders at the first glimpse of him in days.

“I’m going to go fill this with water,” Marge says, a flask in her hand and her staff in the other. She shuffles out, leaving Cole and me alone.

He blows out a breath. “Hey…”

I take a few steps into his direction. “Hey...I’ve been wondering when I’d see you.”

A gash crusted in blood cuts his temple down to the top of his cheekbone. Darkness blooms under his eyes, and his normally warm gaze is dull.

I reach up a hand hesitantly to brush my thumb near the cut. “Does it hurt?”

He looks away, breaking our eye contact. “No.”

“Well, we should get it cleaned anyway. Especially since it’s been a few days.”

“No need, I’m fine. I just wanted to check in on you.”

“Well…I’m not fine.” The confession trembles on my lips. I want to tell him everything. How Archie knows about Daeja. The map in Darian’s room. How terrified I was I almost lost him and Archie. But I can’t ignore the sullenness of his features: the sag of his shoulders, his mussed auburn hair, and weary gaze. I grab his chin and pull his face to me, demanding eye contact. “And I can see you aren’t either. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. But his eyes say otherwise.

“Are you really going to make me dig?”

He turns his face out of my hand and shifts away. “I just came here to check on you, that’s all.”

“Cole—” I catch his arm in my hand. “I was scared.”

He pauses. Slowly turning back to me, he drags his gaze up to meet mine. I flinch as I recall the moment looking into his eyes at the battle. The brutality in them. The way blood stained his cheeks as vividly as his own freckles now. The memory connects to the emotions I’ve been forcing down, bursting through the lid I keep trying to cram shut.

Scared of losing him.

Scared of him.

Maybe it’s all the same.

I continue, my voice wavering, “I was scared to lose you—”

“I know, I know,” he whispers. Absent-mindedly, he touches the side of my face, brushing his thumb in slow strokes against my cheek. “But I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

But it doesn’t feel okay. Something feels off.

“Tell me it won’t happen again,” I mutter.

“I wish I could, but I can’t. This is war. And with me being the captain…it probably won’t be the last time.”

My heart sinks, despite his statement already being something I understood deep down. “Then let’s leave. We don’t need to wait until the moonless night. I know where a map is. Let’s go now—”

“It’s too risky,” he deadpans.

“It’ll always be risky.”

“I am not willing to cut corners if it means endangering your life,” he warns.

“Risk will follow us everywhere we go, can’t you see that? Even if we wait until you get the map and a moonless night, it doesn’t solve everything. There are so many dangerous scenarios after that. And then what do you expect will happen once we get to the Dragon Lands?”

A sad smile blooms on his face. “I don’t know.”

“Have you even heard when we’ll get the map—”

Marge bursts back into the room. I casually slink back away from Cole, hoping the sudden movement doesn’t trigger Marge’s suspicion.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Cole. “Have you eaten anything since Blackfell?”

“No.”

“You should still eat something,” I murmur.

He’s back to avoiding my eye contact. “I’m not hungry.”

I glance over at Marge, hoping for her support, but she continues rearranging bottles on a shelf, ignoring every word exchanged between Cole and me.

I try again, “You need to eat something—”

Cole turns away from me entirely. “I’ve got to go check in with Carlisle on patrols. I’ll see you later.”

I watch the door close between Cole and me as he leaves, my stare lingering on the spot for some moments after. Someone clears their throat, interrupting my daze.

I turn to Marge, waiting for her to speak. “Yes?”

Her back is to me as she works at mixing together concoctions. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“Is there something you want to say?”

“Give him some time. He’ll come around. War and death is hard,” she calls.

I nod, peering down at my hand and where his was moments ago. I’m still wearing his mother’s ring. On my other hand, my middle finger is stained with a dark circle. I clench both hands closed and turn toward Marge.

“Marge…you want to go to the Dragon Lands. But there are dragons and rebels. What makes you think you’ll be safe there?”

She chuckles. “Getting right to the questions today, aren’t we?”

“ How did you know about that water dragon at the lake?” I press.

“Because dragons have been around for thousands of years. And our elders were responsible for sharing all of that information. Books can be rewritten and destroyed but memories cannot. Words cannot. My grandmother used to tell me about dragons and their riders when I was a young girl.”

“Riders?” I murmur.

“Before the King came into rule, humans and dragons shared this realm equally. Some dragons would bond humans as dragon riders. It’s a mystery as to how dragons chose their bonds, but some used to think it had to do with your blood.”

Blood of power…perhaps that was why it was written in my father’s journal. “Like if you were a Spoiled?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think dragons take to Spoileds very well. In fact, I think if they sensed that you were one, they might try to kill you. They must have some sort of scent or sense to know if you’ve been Spoiled…I’m not exactly sure what the translation is.”

“What do you mean by translation?”

“In the olden days, before the King ruled, there was an ancient tongue. When Aaric came to rule, he burned all of the books and libraries. There are few elders that still whisper of the forgotten language.”

“And you know the language?”

She chuckles, the motion of it shaking in her shoulders. “You sure ask a lot of questions.”

Was I annoying her? Or was she avoiding the question because she was suspicious I might turn her in? By now, I imagine she must trust me, considering how much she’s shared. At least a little.

“You’re the only one I can talk to,” I whisper. It’s not a full truth, but I have to protect Cole. And now Archie. “How do you know whom to trust?”

She shrugs, her focus still fixed on preparing a salve. “You don’t.”

“Then why are you sharing all this information with me?”

She pauses and turns to me. “Because I trust you, Katerina.”

Our eyes lock, and my heart skips a beat. I try not to smile too hard.

She snorts. “Don’t make me regret that. As I imagine, you must trust me now that you know I haven’t turned you in.”

I dip my head. “Yes, I do.”

“And if you’re asking me all these questions,” she adds.

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly but not seriously.

Since the battle at Blackfell, the camp has buzzed with an extra liveliness from housing the civilians we rescued. Temporarily, anyway, as Cole worked with Carlisle on plans to relocate them. I imagined having extra mouths to feed and people to protect is stressful on Cole. Every time he catches my stare, he disappears or looks away.

I’ve started to wonder if he’s avoiding me.

We are all crowded around the tables for dinner. With this many extra people, we’ve been designated certain meal times and rations. A little girl spins circles near one of the tables with a long branch in her hand. She screeches as she swings the stick back and forth. Every swipe hits the edge of the table or the side of a tent. My gut drops in horror as she swings it straight into Darian’s calf, who sits at the table taking sip after sip from his flask.

He whips around with a glare and tears the branch from the girl’s grasp.

I spring forward, ready to rescue her. “Darian—”

He shakes his head at the little girl and scolds her with a finger. From this distance, I can’t hear what he’s saying. But he gently corrects her posture, shows her how to flick her wrist, and hands the branch back to her, pointing at his thigh. She freezes, and he stabs his finger into his leg again. She rears back and smacks the branch into his leg, his face tensing in pain as he nods in approval. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder toward a group of other kids, and she sprints off, waving the branch with a shriek as the group of kids disperses.

So, he will gladly train a five year old. But he refused to train Archie and the rest of us? Where it could mean life or death? While the sentiment of the first scenario is admittedly sweet, the rest is infuriating.

Why doesn’t he want to train us?

Darian perches his feet up on top of the table, leans back, and lifts the front legs of his chair off the ground. He hooks one arm back behind his head and takes another pull from his flask.

My eyes narrow, and I storm toward him. His gaze darts over to me, and his eyes playfully pick me apart from head to toe. The corner of his lips perk up in a crooked grin, but as I close the distance between us, his attention flits away. As if he couldn’t be any less interested in me. The way he flips back and forth so easily between two extremes is enough to give me whiplash.

He sighs in exasperation. “I’m busy right now. Can I ignore you another time?”

I glare down at him. “No. I need to talk to you.”

He sneers, examining his nails. “Afraid to break it to you, but I’ve never been a conversationalist. I’m sure your golden-haired boy can be of use, for once. That kid never stops talking.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t even start—”

“Run along now.” He ushers me away with a flick of his wrist.

I snatch a fistful of his shirt and yank him forward to have his chair rest all four legs on the ground.

“What the hell?” he growls and tears my fist from his shirt.

“I need a moment alone with you. Take me to your room,” I hiss. Admittedly, it’s the wrong choice of words…but it’s too late.

He blinks back surprise, which melts into a sinful lick of his lips as he smiles.

“Shut up,” I spit.

He snickers. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but it’s what you’re thinking.”

He tilts his head dramatically to the side, his brown hair sweeping into his brow. “Oh? And you know what I’m thinking, now?”

I roll my eyes, gritting out each word through clenched teeth, “Just take me to your room.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He swings his feet underneath him, standing in one eager and swift motion.

As we duck into Darian’s room, I scan around the cluttered mess. He still hasn’t bothered to tidy up since the last time I was here. Though, I suppose it is an accurate depiction of the man dwelling here: messy and chaotic.

My gaze skitters over to the map still pinned under books on his desk. At this angle, I can’t study it long enough to decipher it while being discreet.

“So…you have me. Alone, in my room.” He grins. “Did you want me to make the first move?”

The only logical way to deal with Darian, I’m beginning to realize, is to ignore his antics completely. “I need you to train Archie.”

Darian snorts. “Ha! Such demands from someone who has nothing to offer me.”

“Well then, what is it you want?”

“World domination.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms, shifting my weight onto my left leg. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

We stare at each other, and I wait for him to finally admit what it is he wants. But he confesses nothing.

I sigh in exasperation. “If I ask you nicely, will you do it?”

“No,” he responds plainly.

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a lost cause.”

I growl through gritted teeth, “Don’t fucking talk about him like that.”

He tilts his head to the side at the irritation sharpening my voice, and a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Why are you so defensive of him?”

“Because he’s my friend. And you’re being impossible at helping anyone but yourself.”

“I know,” he taunts as he leans back and crosses his arms with a smile, mirroring my stance.

It enrages me. I can’t tell if he’s doing it to piss me off or if he really doesn’t care.

“What is your problem?” I finally ask.

He opens his hands and arches his thick eyebrows, prompting me for more clarification. As if he has more than one problem.

“ What is your problem with Archie?” I snap.

He scoffs and swats at the air. “As I said before, that kid is hopeless. I might as well be with a squad of muskrats.”

I glower at him. “He’s optimistic.”

“No, he’s unreal istic.”

“He looks up to you!”

Darian rolls his eyes. “If you were smart, you wouldn’t attach yourself to such an easy target.”

“Why are you such a fucking asshole to everyone, huh? Archie is kind. And the rest of the squad are nothing but good to you.” I jab a finger at his chest.

A muscle in his jaw flickers, his gaze dropping to where I prodded him. When he draws his eyes back up to mine, staring through lowered brows, they simmer with a hidden anger.

“And yet for some reason, out of everyone here, you save me from your piss-poor attitude. Instead, I get your flirty bullshit and unwanted sexual innuendos.” I spin on my heel and storm off, opening the door a few inches.

“Because you don’t expect anything,” he fumes.

I swivel toward him. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean!”

“They think I’m supposed to save them. They think there’s some good in me and I owe it to them.” He pounds a fist into his chest, his voice getting dangerously louder. “There’s not!” He growls, like something hisses in a nightmare. “And you . ”

Thundering toward me, his anger rips across his features and roars in his green eyes. Too afraid to turn my back to him, I back-step slowly out of his room.

“There’s no expectations with you. You know what I am. Void of pressure or responsibility to be good. That’s why I don’t even have to try to be an asshole to you. Because you know I am. And I don’t have to prove that to you.” He spits at the ground, stopping at the threshold momentarily as he braces his hand against the door. His voice dips to a depth that sends shocks to my spine.

“And don’t you ever fucking mention my sister again.”

He slams the door in my face. The walls shudder with the shear force and strands of my hair blow back from my face. A sharp ringing pierces my ears. I stare in shock with my mouth open wide before I physically shake it off. Another soldier walks by, staring at me with wide eyes before he averts his gaze.

I slip back into my room, swallowing against the guilt tightening my throat as I think of my brother. How much I would have done in his name. How angry I would have been if someone used him against me.

I deserved that.

I went too far.