Page 88 of The Freedom You Seek
Dion’s brutal honesty hurt, and I didn’t reply. I was too busy fighting the tears threatening to spill over. Even his mention of a legend that I was unfamiliar with couldn’t coax a little curiosity out of me. My misery was just too strong.
“But you’re already less of a burden than you’ve been in the beginning.”
Falling silent, I thought about everything he’d said and also reflected on this serious side of Dion, the one with whom I could have a deep talk. This side was different from the man with the nasty temper, whose moral compass was broken, or the one of the dominant bastard who saw himself as the pinnacle of creation.
Sometimes, it was hard to piece all the facets of Dion together to see the complete picture. He was my friend, but I couldn’t stop asking myself if I knew him at all.
“If it’s any consolation, Naya, one day, your father will get what he deserves.” Dion’s voice was a promise of murder, violence, and retribution.
I sighed. Serious Dion had left for vengeful Dion. I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “Murder isn’t the solution to everything.”
“I’m not talking about a solution, Nayana. That piece of shit will be given what he’s due, and that’s nothing less than the most painful death one can imagine.”
“He’s still my father.”
“He lost that privilege at the latest the first time he used the cane on you.”
“Why do you care so much? Is it because you’ve been hurt as well?”
“No, it isn’t like that. I care because he caused you pain, and not only once. Even worse, he marked you over and over again.” His hand wandered over my back, over the multitude of scars mapping me, hidden under my clothes. “He made you bleed, destroyed any safety you could have felt, broke your heart and soul over and over again and, on top of that, threatened to murder you. One of these crimeswould have been enough to eradicate his existence from this or any other world. But all these things combined—”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but it wasn’t necessary. Cold fury radiated from him, and I had the urge to smooth the frown on his forehead with my fingers. “Don’t think about it. In the end, it’s inconsequential.”
Dion glowered at me, but his features smoothed slightly as his arm tucked me tighter into his side.
Silence settled around us until Dion chose to speak once more. “Your mother is just as guilty. She allowed it to happen.”
“Dion, you can’t punish everyone who ever did me wrong.”
“I don’t see why not. Stop underestimating me.”
I just snorted. I wouldn’t even dignify that with an answer, and he didn’t seem to expect one. Until we joined the others for food, we sat in comfortable silence.
The longer we rode through the mountains, the more unpleasant the journey became. By now, we were deep inside the mountain range, and the altitude was high enough that the air became thinner and colder. I felt the beginning of a headache, and Dion behind me was more grumpy than usual. “I hope we’ll arrive soon.”
“I fucking hope so as well.”
“I’m anxious we’ve made this trip in vain, and the seer won’t talk to us.”
“She will. Shehasto.”
I could hear the unsaid ‘or I’ll make her’ hanging in the air and sighed. “Be nice, Dion. For once.”
“I willif she is.”
I sighed in desperation. Sometimes, I just wanted to shake some sense into Dion. Like now. Or all the time. Pondering what to say, I was surprised when the narrow path, which was barely broad enough for our horses, widened. When I spotted a little cottage on the horizon, I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.
It took a few more minutes to reach the small plateau, which was covered with beautiful wildflowers. I dismounted—to my bewilderment, Dion didn’t protest for once—and instantly crouched down, smelling the colorful blossoms. Sometimes, happiness could be found in the small things, and a tiny patch of flowers in the middle of a mountain range felt special. Listening to the conversation unfolding around me, I claimed a grassy spot to sit without squashing any flowers.
“I’ll go alone.” Lor made a face at Fig as if she was expecting him to protest and wanted to shut it down right from the beginning. “Larithia and I know each other, and she’ll open her door for me. I’m not so sure if she would do so for you. She became a hermit after father’s dungeon and even before she hated meeting people.”
I contemplated that for a moment and didn’t listen to the discussion that broke out between Lor and the men any longer. It was pointless anyway. In the end, Lor would win this argument because she’d be our best chance if we wanted to talk to Larithia. I wondered why a seer hated meeting people. Wasn’t the whole thing about seeing glimpses of the future to tell others and warn them? Perhaps I was too naïve, and Iguessed Larithia might have been wronged before she ended up in Lor’s father’s clutches, possibly multiple times.
As predicted, Lor won the argument, and she wandered toward the small cottage nestled between two cliffs. I had to admit, if I had the urge to never meet other people, I’d choose such a remote location as well.
From my vantage point, the house was tiny, but in good condition. White smoke rose from the chimney, and I speculated on how the seer got her supplies or her food.
My thoughts were interrupted by Lor’s return. “As I thought, Larithia is opposed to meeting with you. But I was able to compromise with her on your behalf. She’ll allow two of your group to see her to ask your questions.”