Page 24 of To No End (Tales of Forgotten Fae #1)

CHAPTER

23

The next day, my body felt revived, with no hints of aches or pain. Part of me dreaded the day ahead. Nori was back, but today she would need to show some commitment to the cause.

When we arrived in the training room with Theory, she placed herself close by and followed along with all the stretches and warm-up exercises. But this was not unusual; she had already been willing to do those things. When we transitioned into sparring, I was nervous that once more she’d refuse the activity.

I walked toward Cairis, who I’d made my official partner—once he agreed to trade me for tutoring. His hair was tied up in a bun atop his head, and it was a unique look that highlighted his sharp jawline and high, pointed ears. I wanted to practice with the biggest and strongest among us, this way anything less than that would feel manageable.

Nori shyly followed me around and stood awkwardly to our side, looking for some sort of invitation. Cairis gave me a strange look, nodding his chin at her.

Before he could unintentionally destroy her courage, I chimed in, “Cairis, I’d like you to show Nori some of the basics today.”

When he made no indication of interest in my request, I added, “Please.”

“What’s in it for me?” he questioned.

I rolled my eyes. “You mean besides preparing your ill-equipped team member so they can have your back?”

Many things with Cairis always felt like bartering. This had to be the sort of thing he was raised with, never being given anything for free.

“You get Nori up to speed in basic combat, and she’ll tutor you on spiritual and religious studies.”

He looked at me, unenthused. I didn’t know what else to propose. There was little chance her gift of dreamwalking was applicable in this negotiation. I tried to play to her strengths, at least the ones I knew of.

“And after every training session, she will personally heal you. Then you don’t have to make the long trek to the bottom of the falls.”

His ears perked at the mention of this, and he nodded. I may have abused my knowledge of Leatherwings’ notorious distaste of water. I didn’t want to oust him, so I made it more about the trek than the water.

I turned to Nori, looking for signs that the deal I’d just brokered would be one she accepted, and she gave me a tiny, grateful smile.

“I can’t wait to see her dancing circles around you, Cairis. Consider this a chance to work on your endurance!” I quipped, trying to give Nori the encouragement she needed.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “But who are you going to train with?”

I looked around the room, assessing my options. Gia and Trace were already engaged in a practice duel with blades. That left only one remaining partner.

I scanned the rest of the room looking for his bright curls. He leaned up against the stone podium, looking at me like he had already expected my arrival. I turned my back to him, rolling my eyes.

“I’ll be back when you’ve got her decently up to speed. Then we will practice two-on-one.”

“I’d like that…” Cairis replied with a smirk and a wink.

“I bet you would,” I said snarkily while parting ways and making my way toward Varro. I didn’t dare look, but I could feel Trace’s eyes on me as I paced toward my new sparring partner.

“Hello, friend.” He smiled nonchalantly.

I looked up at him, giving him no signs of amusement. “Guess I’m yours today,” I stated, begrudgingly.

“Just today? What a shame.” He looked delighted with himself.

I turned my back to him, taking a few steps away, and as I began to ask, “What would you like to pract—”

I suddenly felt a hard kick against my legs, cutting off my words and forcing me to fall forward on my face.

“What in the…” I rolled over onto my back, infuriated to see Varro now standing over me looking tickled.

He had just attacked me unprovoked. I already felt soreness on the wrist I had used trying to brace the fall.

“What are you doing?” I fumed.

“Practicing the element of surprise.”

Without hesitation, I saw him lift his fist. I rolled away quickly, just in time for him to miss his mark, and stood, readying myself. So, this is how he wanted to play it.

He lunged forward into me, swinging left and then right, each fist missing me just barely as I ducked and twisted out of his path. He was fast, but I could tell he was intentionally holding back. If he wanted to provoke me, he had succeeded.

As he stalked toward me, I quickly ran around him, using the stone podium for leverage. I kicked my foot out and pushed off, jumping onto his back. My arms squeezed tightly around his neck, and my legs wrapped around his large frame.

In a swift motion, he threw his body forward, flipping me over his head and onto my back before him. Right where I had started.

I gritted my teeth, my brow furrowing in frustration. “You’re going to regret that.”

He looked down upon me, unconvinced. “I hope so,” he retorted, and before he could straighten his stance, I kicked my foot out into his groin. A satisfying look of pain and bewilderment spread across his face.

He stepped back, hunched over and coughing. Good, I hoped that took the wind out of him. But I knew better than to let up.

In a move that had taken me a while to master, I did a kick up straight from my back and landed lightly on both feet. I swung with all my might in an attempt to land a blow, but he recovered enough to dodge. When I swung again with the other arm, he grabbed my fist in his palm, spinning me into a tight hug. I writhed, unsuccessfully trying to free myself.

He held me in place with his giant muscular arms, then leaned in close to my ear and said the words that he knew only I could understand.

The sound of the old tongue once more prickled across my skin as he taunted, “Just making sure you need that bath later.”

Enraged with his audacity, I immediately kicked backward against his shin, breaking his hold just enough for me to slip away. He was stronger than me. I was going to have to beat him with speed and agility or by complete surprise.

He stood there; legs spread wide in a stance waiting for me to make my move when I took off running straight toward him. I faked a quick movement to make him think I was going high, then I immediately ducked low to slide between his legs and ended up on the other side of him with his back once more exposed to me.

But before I could take advantage of his vulnerable position, he twisted around quicker than I expected and grasped my neck tightly in his hand, holding me in place and keeping his arm locked straight so my strikes couldn’t reach him.

He looked at me, expecting me to yield, but that was not going to happen. He squeezed tighter, but I did not react. He shoved me back against the stone post and squeezed harder. The pain of his iron grip around my neck began to cut off my airway, and I winced.

“Yield,” he said, cocking his head at me proudly.

I said nothing.

When I remained silent, he began to tighten his grip so much that he lifted me off the ground, my back still against the podium and the tips of my toes now barely grazing the floor. I was feeling the lack of breath, my face growing red.

There was a brief exchange between our gazes, his blue eyes piercing into me as I felt my consciousness beginning to teeter. I felt wrong for enjoying the intensity of his stare—and his hand around my neck. I reasoned it was probably the lack of blood flow getting to my brain.

Once more he said, “Yield,” between gritted teeth.

But for some reason, my stubbornness would not let me bend to his will. I would let him choke me out before I uttered the words. And just as I began to feel my eyes flutter and consciousness leave me, I saw Trace reach for Varro’s arm, yanking it away as he growled, “Let her go!”

I dropped to the floor, hitting my head, and with that came nothing but stars and darkness.

When I awoke, I was alone in my bed. My head pounded with a pain I had never felt, and I could feel aching all over my body, quickly reminding me of how I had gotten here. I had no idea how much time had passed or who had brought me here. It wasn’t Nori, or I’m certain she would have done her best to heal me and ensure that I did not awake feeling as awful as I did. I rolled over on my side, trying to find the energy to sit up.

Thoughts of Varro squeezing the life from me and Trace’s rage-filled voice flashed back into my mind. I had no idea what had transpired since that moment, and Gods I hoped he had found a way to control himself. This was my fault. I was the one who was too stubborn to give in to Varro when I had already lost. Just as stubborn as Saryn when I held a blade to him.

When I peeked my head out into the hallway it was quiet and dim, indicating it was clearly past dinner time and most had likely gone to sleep. The sound of Varro’s words echoed through me. His words from last night, and today in training. I began to hobble my way toward the baths at the bottom of the falls.

Unsure if I wanted to see him or not, anger wrapped around me like a warm blanket as I envisioned drowning him for this. My viciousness surprised even me. When had I become so vengeful? This place was getting to me.

This time there were no melodies drawing me back to the door, yet I knew he’d be there even before I turned the knob. I found Varro soaking in the same spot as last night. I quickly removed my clothes, uninterested in whether he was looking at me or not. I needed the comfort of the waters, badly.

I submerged my body and rolled my shoulders in relief. I relaxed, letting the warmth bring me a reprieve from the day. I inched my way slowly toward Varro, unsure of what our encounter would be like, and sat across from him.

He did not speak, but his eyes said many things. I tried to decipher their meaning. Was that guilt or anger, perhaps a little of both? While staring into his eyes, I noticed the swelling on his right cheekbone marked with a tiny cut. I did not recollect landing a blow there.

The awkward silence filled the room like the steam wafting above the pool.

“What made you think I’d need motivation to return?” I asked with a bit of venom, referencing his comment about the bath.

He winced at my words; he knew he’d gone too far.

“I didn’t go too far…” he snapped, and then I realized I had dropped my mental shields in a moment of distraction.

Before I could argue that point, he added, “If you were mine— If you were my teammate, then I’d want to make sure you’re prepared for the worst, for anything someone might do to hurt you.”

“I am your teammate,” I whispered, trying to ignore his delicately phrased words.

Although I can’t say I enjoyed being choked to the point of blacking out, he did have a point. Theory would have likely approved of his methods. She wanted us to push our limits, and she would never approve of the males treating us differently. Regardless, I was caught off guard by his willingness to go there our first time sparring.

“Why didn’t you just yield?” he questioned, as if he had been counting on that.

My answer came quick and uncalculated, filled with anger boiling from places within that I had kept bottled up until now.

“For my father, and for the merchants and sailors your family slaughtered. Did they yield when hundreds died, the blood soaking the bay crimson?”

I had only realized it myself as I spoke… I’d rather him see the life drain from my eyes than bend to the will of a member of House Corliss.

“You speak of things you know nothing about, just what you’ve been told. Don’t pretend you have any reason to define me by anything other than what I show you here and now.”

His voice grew louder and echoed off the walls. He wasn’t yelling, more like pleading.

Against my better judgment, I continued to press him. I could not let this go.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with it. Tell me you weren’t at your father’s side while he led the massacre!” My voice rose louder than his.

“I wasn’t involved. The instant I learned of my father’s plans, I only had so much time. I acted selfishly. I protected the two most important people in my life and immediately got my mother and sister into hiding, away from that abusive piece of shit.”

He paused, eyeing me intently to make sure I was hearing every word.

“Someone would have come for them, to take them as ransom or worse. Do you think my father would have bargained on their behalf? He wouldn’t have raised a finger. Not someone who throws an infant into the sea or beats on his wife while biding his time to sell off his daughter in a betrothal of his choosing.”

He took a deep breath and continued, sounding distraught.

“Once I had gotten them away from him and his enemies who would do them harm, I returned. But I was too late. So much death and destruction had already been done.”

I watched his hands curl into tight fists below the water.

“The Erisas Bay painted in red will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. Don’t you think I regret not doing more? Don’t you think I wish I had chosen the selfless path? I couldn’t watch him treat them that way anymore and saw a window of opportunity and seized it. But I never wanted the rebellion to happen in the first place. I pleaded with him to seek a diplomatic approach, but he was intent on sending a message.”

My cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Suddenly I felt small, like a child being scolded when they’d done something wrong. His sharp words punished me and I searched my thoughts for a retort—but could find none.

I didn’t deserve the last word. I’d judged him harshly, and yet I would’ve done the exact same thing. If it meant getting my family to safety, I would have chosen them.

In the complexities of war and bloodshed, we often lose sight of the small stories, and the histories only speak of the conquerors and conquered. I hung my head in regret. He must have noticed the silence of my shame.

“I can’t fix what happened at the rebellion, but when the time came, I did the only thing I thought I could to right my wrong…” He paused. “I was the one who told the black cloaks where he was hiding.”

“Really?” I whispered, looking up through my lashes.

“Yes. I’m the reason my father was captured. I’m the reason he’ll spend a long time being tortured until they finally put him out of his misery.”

“He deserved it,” I said coldly.

“He did. Nevertheless, sending my own father to his death is something I have to live with, along with what happened at Erisas.”

Varro looked utterly torn. I cannot imagine the choice he had had to make in doing so. He ran his hand through his wet curls.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told. Not even my mother or sister knew it was me.”

My eyes widened at the confession. Why tell me? Why seek my approval? He could have left that out of the story and still made me feel just as terrible for all my brash words.

“By then, I knew I was going to demand they accept me as the Offering. Without me around, turning him in was the only way to ensure he’d never be able to lay eyes or hands on them again. And as you said…he deserved it.”

I tried to imagine Varro’s mother and sister somewhere safe, finally free of their oppression, and how that must bring him such peace. The way it brought me some semblance of peace to know that Versa would never know what happened to me, and that she got to live out her life on her terms.

Somewhere smiling, holding a babe in her arms in the gardens of her flourishing estate while her husband looked on fondly from a distance. I hadn’t let myself fantasize about her happiness since I had arrived, but now I allowed myself a brief moment.

Varro cupped some of the water in his hand and poured it along his bruised and swelling cheek, drawing my attention back to the present.

“How did that happen? I never landed a punch.”

Varro began to shake his head back and forth in amused disbelief.

“Unlike the rest of us, you brought your past here.”

“…What?”

“Who do you think hit me, Cress? Multiple times, at that.”

A small gasp left my mouth in realization.

“Trace did that?”

“Yes, he went after me like a rabid beast and Cairis had to pull him off of me. He’s lucky I restrained myself, especially since I was more interested in assisting Gia to get you off the ground.”

My Gods, what kind of altercation had I missed? What had Trace done? He and I were careful to maintain appearances and control our emotions. This was my fault. If I had just yielded and hadn’t been stupid enough to make so many assumptions about Varro…

“It’s dangerous for you both,” he added.

I played innocent, making an excuse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, or why he reacted like that. He probably can’t stand watching females take a hit.”

“He certainly doesn’t mind putting Gia at risk with a blade, and he didn’t come to your rescue when Saryn slapped you, though I could have had his hand for that.”

Varro’s words were like riddles. One minute he was chiding me, the next he was sounding protective.

“Deny it all you want, Cress. I saw it… We all saw it, what you mean to him.”

I wanted to sink below the waters and drown. My chest already felt like my lungs were filled with water. I didn’t know what more to say. I didn’t want to sit here and keep lying to Varro, not after he’d been so honest, not after he’d made it abundantly clear that he knew I was full of it. But I also wasn’t keen to divulge or admit anything about mine and Trace’s past.

The only thing I could offer was this promise: “It won’t happen again.”