Affinity, p.2
Affinity, page 2
Speared through the heart with a blade of mistletoe.
“It’s extraordinary,” the commander murmured, still holding him by the face. It was strange, like some part of him had ceased to notice. “Born into a wealthy house, and clearly blessed by some god. You should have heard the way our general talked about you. The way everyone talked. The king wasn’t even going to hold the games, he’d already made up his mind. And you gave it all up—”
Erik wrenched himself free, leaning back to create a little distance.
“—for her.”
He gestured for me in the same moment, waving me off the bed. Under no circumstance did he allow any of his men to approach. At every moment, Erik was kept like a shield between them.
What should I do?!
My chest tightened, but I took a single look at the sword and did as the man asked, feeling suddenly like one of the strays that gathered at the edge of the feasting tables—eyes shining with hope for a scrap of mercy, when at the core, they already know it will be the boot. The blankets slipped away when I stood, and the eyes of the men raked over my skin as I ventured warily closer, half the size of everyone around me, both arms still wrapped protectively around my chest.
Now what?
The commander rotated Erik slowly, until the two of us were facing, then gave him a nudge in the back—shoving us together. He caught me in an instant, angling to block me from sight, but the soldiers were already moving—prying my wrists from my body and twisting them so my hands were pressed flat against Erik’s chest. I sucked in a quiet breath and heard them moving behind me, coiling the rope around my bare skin, before lashing it roughly to his.
There was a murmur of laughter as the rope cinched tighter, forcing us into each other. It was close enough to be painful. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my fingertips.
The commander regarded us with a bland smile.
“My question is this...was it worth it?”
I couldn’t quite hear what Erik said in reply, but the man laughed and slapped him across the face, hard enough that I felt it humming in my bones. We rocked a moment off balance, clinging to each other however best we could manage, before settling again on the floor.
“Careful now, little godling. You might be the king’s favorite, but you forget, we’ve come on his orders. I would not bet on anything waiting for you at the settlement but the hangman’s noose.”
The guards chuckled again as the commander walked in a slow circle until he was looking at me instead. He paused then, bizarrely clear of expression, before he flashed another smile.
“As for you...we’ve already stacked the pyre.”
Chapter 2
THE MOON WAS BRIGHT, but we couldn’t see it from our window. As soon as the ropes were secure, we’d been dragged from the main bedroom and shunted into one of the smaller chambers alongside—one that was assumedly used for cleaning game. Old stains of blood had worked into the floorboards, and a vague stench of animal hung in the air. I was surprised it had lasted. The wooden slats by the outside wall had been fit crooked, and a frigid wind was blowing through the cracks.
I shivered without speaking, bowing my head into the hollow of Erik’s neck.
It had been awkward at first, to have been fitted so closely. I didn’t know which made it worse: that we’d been tied together in the first place, or that we’d been half-naked when it was done. In the end, I supposed it didn’t matter. Neither did it matter how much we twisted, or struggled, or turned. We were pressed, skin to skin, and the knots held good. If anything, they seemed to tighten the longer we fought. We had given up on them by now, dozing occasionally in the strained quiet.
We should never have come.
The words drifted yet again through my mind, flitting in and out with the breeze, surely to chime back later in the night. It had angered me at first—once I’d broken through the fear. I had been downright furious to have found myself in this position. After all the freezing rivers we trekked through to avoid it, after the wolves and the fever and the arctic nights. There were times our journey had felt impossible—yet we’d walked into the cabin smiling, of our own volition.
Only to be sentenced on a pyre just the same.
There was a quiet breath, and I started a little to realize Erik was still awake. For a long time, he’d been propped against the wall beside me, gazing in silence out the window. He couldn’t see any more from it than me, but his eyes had fixed endlessly upon the glass. In the hours that followed, as the moon had drifted in a slow orbit above us, I’d been convinced he’d fallen asleep.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered without thinking, lifting my head once again. With my luck, it had probably hurt him. In the time since we’d been discovered, the man had been battered by friend and enemy alike. The blood from the guard’s spear had dripped all the way to his stomach. In the wind coming through the broken slats, it had only just begun to dry. “I thought you were asleep.”
He pulled back just a little, enough that I was able to see the glint of his eyes. There was nothing in them I could read. He’d been blank and quiet since the soldiers left us.
“You need not apologize,” he answered softly, eyes flicking to the door. The guards had not returned since depositing us, but we looked for them often. “There is room for nothing else,” he added even quieter, “and I would be glad for one of us to sleep.”
So he’s been awake then.
I eyed him in the darkness, wondering what he’d been thinking about. Possibly the quip about his uncle, or perhaps the hangman’s noose. Perhaps it had gone even farther than that, to the ripples in the hereafter, consequences for coming to the aid of a witch. One thought about those kinds of things more often, when one was sentenced to die. I’d spent many days poring over it myself, from the comfort of my prison cell.
His lips parted, like he was about to speak, before he closed them again and glanced towards the window. The hours had been long, and he no longer noticed my watching. It wasn’t until I gave him a little shove, his gaze flashed back to mine. I stared expectantly, asking the silent question.
“I’m so sorry...” he began in a murmur, before simply shaking his head. What was the point in apologizing, if we were already bound and broken? Still, it surprised me that he tried. “I will never be able to say it enough. And now, there is no longer...” He sighed. “Liv, I’m so endlessly sorry.”
My eyes flashed to him again, but I didn’t immediately speak. At this point, he could have been apologizing for anything. For the key, or the cabin, or even earlier than that. For that moment in the village square, when he’d knelt beside a frightened horse and I’d thrown my entire life away.
After a few seconds, I turned away. “You need not apologize,” I quoted softly.
He moved sharp in my periphery, looking at me again. Pressed as we were together, I could feel the quickening of his pulse, the catching of breath. He was a man on fire, but you’d never know it to look at him. In my life, I’d never seen anyone who could render themselves so completely still.
“Are you able to...?” He trailed into silence, unable to say it. Twice, his eyes flicked to the door. “If I wasn’t bound to you so close...could you use your powers to escape?”
I met his gaze, surprised again that he’d say it. Surprised, and then not. The commander had been right about everything Erik had given up. A rich home, a king’s favor. Quite possibly, a crown.
The man was blessed by the gods, yet he’s sitting with a witch.
“You are bound so close,” I answered shortly, trying to keep the anger from my voice. It would have been easy to find the blame in our situation, even if it hadn’t been lashed right next to me. “So there isn’t a point discussing it. The way things are, I’d likely burn you to death.”
It came out sharper than I’d intended, and I felt him flinch. The wind stirred again outside, rattling the branches of the trees, and his head bowed in silent defeat.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
My blood spiked, but this time, I refused to remain quiet. I didn’t want to be quiet. And I didn’t want him to be sorry. I wanted to rewind the clock to when everything was sunny again.
“I don’t want that,” I hissed, unable to keep it to myself. His body tensed, and I glared up at him. “What good does that do? You’re sorry? Of all the things that could have landed us in this situation, Erik, it’s a real bloody irony it was something you actually chose. You’re sorry.”
“I didn’t—” He shook his head, unwilling to argue. Since the door had slammed shut, I’d seen him do that more and more often, shying away from the fight and simply shutting down. “If I had known what would happen, I would have stayed far away from this place. I never would have suggested that...” He let out a breath, barely keeping it together. “You’re right, it doesn’t matter.”
I strained backwards, trying to see him better. The blood had stained dark against his fair skin, and half his face was cloaked in shadow, but I kept him fiercely in my gaze.
Because suddenly, it did matter. It mattered more than anything else.
“So what?” I challenged. “They’ve found us? Now that’s it?”
He lifted his head uncertainly, staring into my eyes. “What do you wish me to say?”
In truth, I wasn’t exactly sure—only that I didn’t want the conversation to be over yet, that we couldn’t leave things where they stood. A few hours earlier, we’d been half-naked and tangled in each other’s arms. Now we were prisoners, bloody and freezing. There couldn’t be nothing left to say.
“I want you to tell me everything,” I said plainly, looking into his eyes. Even in the darkness, they were an impossible color, like a clear sky after rain. “And I will know if you’re lying.”
It was difficult to say which surprised him more, the first or the second. But as the words settled between us, an answer leapt ready to his lips. “I will not lie to you—”
“You have lied to me already,” I snapped, finding my anger again. Despite the strain, I pulled back as far as I was able, feeling the bite of the rope around my back. “You have lied to me from the very start. From the moment you opened the door to my cell, you have lied—”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t approve,” he interrupted, exasperated himself. The cabin was a mistake, but the key was something for which he refused to apologize. “You were to be executed in the morning, and you still wouldn’t approve. You wouldn’t even leave through an open door. I had to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of the cell!”
“Well, thank the gods for you!” I replied sarcastically, pulling even harder against the rope just to make it bite him, too. “My fearless rescuer, leading me straight to freedom.” The shadows pressed around us. “Except you and your uncle hatched a little plan along the way.”
His head bowed again, and I almost felt guilty for snapping. “It wasn’t like that. You know that I—”
“I don’t know anything,” I interrupted coolly, “because apparently we’ve been on different pages from the start.” I let this settle for a moment before making my demand again. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. And then we’ll see where the two of us are.”
In hindsight, it would have been a lot easier if we hadn’t been tied together. It would have been easier still, if my bare chest wasn’t pressed against his own. The soldiers could have allowed us our tunics, they could have draped us with our cloaks. They’d decided not to—leaving us in the icy room with the broken floorboards instead. I could feel every tremor that ran through his body, the wild racing of his heart. For a moment, I almost relented. But he drew in a steadying breath.
“That night in the settlement, before you were to be executed...”
He paused a long moment, and I wondered what he was going to say. In truth, I knew a good deal more about that night than he was aware of. After the king had visited my cell, I’d flown on the wings of a hawk and watched as he visited Erik as well. He’d promised the boy a crown, a seat at the head of our kingdom. Erik had looked at the tower, begging softly that I be released.
I wondered if he was going to say it.
He merely shook his head. “I was a wreck,” he continued quietly, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Kept wandering into the courtyard, looking at the tower. Eventually, my uncle found me and we had a...a frank discussion.” He paused again, frowning a little. “In all my life, I’ve never spoken to him in such a way. He listened, asked me questions. By the end—” He caught himself, flashing a quick look at my face. “He left for a while, and later that night, there was a knock on my door. He had brought me the key to the prison. Go save her, he said. And your conscience will be clear.”
Having met his uncle only a few times, I could imagine this to perfection. The quiet words that passed between them, the look of false solemnity as he pressed the key into his nephew’s hand.
A part of me wanted to scream. Another part was absolutely riveted.
“Escaping the tower was only the first part,” Erik added quietly, “by the time the bells finished ringing, the forest would be crawling with hounds. He told me the likely path the soldiers would take in their search. He reminded me about this cabin we’d stopped on the way down.”
Of course, there were many gaps in the story. Many things that had gone wrong. They couldn’t have accounted for the fire—that must have surprised them. And the cabin itself...?
“What did you say?” I asked stiffly, not a shred of emotion. “When he told you the plan?”
He drew in another breath, forcing himself to look at me. “I did not think you would wish to travel north, as we’re coming on winter.”
Damn right.
In the space of a heartbeat, a dozen things clicked into place. The confidence with which he’d struck out into the forest, the inexplicable miracle when the door to my prison cell burst free. A single look at that signpost, and he’d picked our direction. He wanted to come back and help the villagers who’d provisioned us. There had always been a trajectory, and an expected end.
Of course, his uncle likely never thought we’d make it to the cabin. The soldiers had been mustering in the courtyard. The villagers had swarmed the fire in a panic. There had been so many points at which things might have derailed, many things that might have ended his great plan. Then of course, there was the forest itself: a thousand easy deaths, with the hounds of the king behind us.
Each day without report of our bodies or capture, Steffen must have punched a wall.
“But you found a way around that, didn’t you?” I clenched my teeth together, shivering in the cold. “As I recall, you were incredibly persuasive. Trust me, Liv.” I sank into a brooding replica, glaring all the while. “We don’t take the easy path, we do what’s right.”
He opened his mouth to answer, then bowed his head. “I thought it was right,” he whispered, cringing in shame. “Liv, I never—”
“What did you think was going to happen?” I interrupted sharply. “You had this revelatory conversation with your uncle—what did you think he was going to do?”
“I thought...” He trailed off helplessly, shaking his head. “I thought he wanted to help.”
A gentler part of me might have paused then, or offered some small piece of comfort. But that part had essentially frozen when the soldiers tied me up and left me on the floor.
“And when has he ever wanted to help you, Erik?” I asked slowly, keeping our eyes locked together. “When has he ever wanted to do that?” I tried to throw up my hands in frustration, then remembered I couldn’t do that, and burned with rage all over again. “Do you not see what’s happened here? His master plan? First, he allowed you to spare me in the courtyard, attaching us together in the king’s sight. Then he gave you the key to help me escape, essentially dooming yourself in the process. And of course, all of this was after he failed to kill you in the first place!”
“He wouldn’t—”
“Erik, come on!”
“He didn’t try to kill me!” he cried, losing his temper. He made no effort to check his volume, and his voice rang over the wooden rafters. “He wouldn’t do that!”
...excuse me?
A harsh silence fell over us, somehow worse than any that had come before. He felt the change immediately, starting to panic at the look on my face. “I just meant—”
“Did you not hear what I told you in the cell?” I asked, feeling almost dizzy. “Did you not hear when I screamed in the courtyard? Why the hell do you think I did it, Erik?” My voice was shaking, rising in volume. “It wasn’t for nothing, it was for you!”
How could he not see it? We were tied together on the floor of a hunting lodge, how could he be so blind? It wasn’t just inconceivable, I was genuinely hurt. Did he think I was out here on a whim, that I’d suffered some magical glitch? I had given my life to save him.
And he walked us right back into the fire.
“I just meant...you don’t know that he wished to kill me.” Erik’s voice was quiet, but he was breathing very quickly, like he’d just run a long way. “You don’t know him, he’s never...” He shook his head, searching for the words. “Perhaps he just wished me out of the way, to miss the king’s hunting trip, as you said. He’s a jealous sort. A bad kick from a horse can lay a man up for days.”
I stared back at him, toneless and flat. “That horse was coming down on your head.”
Why am I trying? It’s different with family.
We stared at each other in silence, there was nowhere else to look. Then at last, when it felt like the image had burned into me, I closed my eyes once again, trying in vain to sleep.
THE WIND CREAKED IN the oaken branches, and every so often, there was a burst of muffled laughter from the guards. They were dicing, or drinking, or likely some combination of both. They had found a dread witch and trapped her, bound and helpless. Soon they would return as heroes, to burn her at the pyre. A door opened and my eyes lifted reflexively to the window, staring at the small sliver of sky. It was lighter than it had been, bright with the glow of torches.
