The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (highly recommended books txt) 📗

She took a step back as he rose to his feet. “I don’t wish to speak of it.”

“Come now. Tell me about it.”

She gave him a dark look and said, “How about I show you instead?” And she took off at a run.

Confused, Aidan hesitated before running off after her. “Slaíne! Wait. Please come back. I didn’t mean—” He swore as he caught sight of her, just fifteen yards ahead in a circle of maples. “Come back, we don’t know if these parts are…safe.”

She took a purposeful step back. And another.

The Pull between them warned him before it happened.

Slaíne’s body convulsed, and she was thrown up into the sky as if by an invisible hand, and tossed around like a reed in the wind, all before hitting the ground with a dramatic thud and a flash of red light.

The shaking and twitching continued until Aidan came to his senses and ran to her. “What the devil…?” He threw himself down next to her, though was hesitant to touch her.

“Told ya.” Her voice was a thin rasp, and her features were gray. A small spasm overtook her once more, before her eyes closed and she lay still, her chest barely rising before it fell.

“Slaíne?” He shook her, and was startled to find that her flesh was cold to the touch. He took her pulse. It was faint at first, but the longer his fingers lingered, the steadier and stronger it became.

Aidan Summoned his cloak and covered her as violent shivers racked her body. “Slaíne,” he said more sharply, shaking her.

The girl stirred slightly but did not wake.

So much for reaching Wontworth that day.

Chapter Six

Noon became afternoon, and afternoon ran into evening, and still Slaíne did not wake. What had she been thinking? It was apparent that she’d known what would happen to her if she wandered off. And yet….

Aidan knew that he was more than partially to blame. He had, after all, scoffed at the mention of a curse, thus provoking her to take action in order to prove her honesty. To think of the night previous also gave him pain. He had left the girl at the camp, ordering her to stay where she was, oblivious to the fact that it would affect her so. For now, though the exact particulars of the curse were unclear, it was apparent that there was a boundary for her, and that that boundary was attached to a person. Perhaps she could only wander so far from another living being before the curse attacked.

Two fits in two days? The notion pushed all thoughts of the Goblets from his mind and surpassed every worry, even his family, though he was not generous enough to admit it to himself.

The longer she remained comatose, the more unbearable his guilt became. In truth, her color was better, and she’d started to snore softly. Though he could not absolve himself, sitting under the weight of his faults proved misery to the point of pain. It was pointless, as it was done and could not be undone.

Before eventide gave way to night, and the wood was plunged into semi-darkness, Aidan came to his senses and took action. He built a fire. He cut a few vines that seemed safe and drained their fluids into a bone-dry bladder.

The air was chill for late spring, and he sorely wished he’d a second cloak, but didn’t think of removing the one he had from his traveling companion. Instead, he built up the blaze to quite a height and reveled in the heat it gave off.

Night fell, overtook, and enveloped them in a cloak of darkness. The sky was overcast, hiding the waning moon, so that the only relief from the inky night was the ravenous blaze, which seemed on the verge of burning out every five minutes, no matter how much fuel he provided.

Aidan Called all manner of dry twigs and branches within the range of his reach. He was separating a larger branch into four separate parts when the girl sat up with a groan. “How are you feeling?” he asked without looking from his work. The sense of guilt again became overwhelming.

“Feels like I’ve been bludgeoned to death with a burning skillet.” Of all things, she laughed. A weak, insincere one, but a laugh nonetheless.

“But you’re not dead.” He winced at having pointed out the obvious.

This time her laugh had more warmth to it. “Not yet, anyhow.” She was on her feet now, he knew, but still didn’t even glance at him. The crunching of leaves and the slack in her Pull announced her approach. “Anythin’ need doin’?”

Now that it was apparent she was alive, well, and in tolerable condition, Aidan’s temper flared. “What were you thinking?”

“No need to shout.” She was shouting, too.

“Maybe there is.” He turned to her and pointed at the sky. “Not only did you almost get yourself killed—”

“Did not.”

Aidan ignored that. “Your fit cost us the remainder of daylight. I should’ve left you with your rightful masters.” He caught her hand mid-strike and did not let go. He’d gone too far and he knew it as regret deepened and he wondered at himself. Why did she bring out such anger in him?

When she spoke, it was through her clenched teeth. “Let. Go.”

“Slaíne, please forgive me. I behaved poorly.” His grip on her tightened by a degree and, without a thought, he pulled her in closer. “Come, shake hands with me and let’s be friends.”

Her hand and arm had gone limp. “We can nay be friends.”

“But—”

“You shoulda done.”

“Should have done what?”

Her look lacked reproach but held plenty of anger. “Left me with the elves. Give me my hand back, sir. I’ve still need of it.” Slaíne’s voice was as slack as her arm, but her Pull tightened, contracted, made it strangely unbearable being at such a distance, though a matter of a few inches. Still, he relinquished his grasp and watched her arm fall back to her side.

“Where are you going?”

Slaíne had turned her back to him