Cenric had been hunting on one of the high ridges off the western cliffs near his newest camp location, tracking a herd of sure-footed goats in the late morning sun, when he hit the magical boundary. The invisible ward had sent his magic flaring, pouring out of him in an unexpected tidal wave. His power snapped the feeble thing beneath its might with enough force to send him flying.
He landed with a crunch in a pile of detritus, an array of sticks and rocks digging sharply into his spine.
Well, so much for not using it, he thought sourly as he stared up at the cloudless sky, even as the pressure in his head eased instantaneously.
He blew his hair out of his face.
The power roiling beneath his skin had been seeking a release for weeks now, ever since his last little blow out when he'd gotten a nose full of pollen while searching for berries and had leveled an entire grove of trees when he'd sneezed. He still felt bad for the flock of birds and wildlife that fled in wake of it.
At least he hadn't demolished any foliage this time.
He'd only wanted to find a goat for some milk and attempt to make cheese, having woken with a craving for it. Boredom had rapidly become his greatest enemy out in the wilderness as the weeks had drug on, and he was growing tired of his diet of foraged fruits and hunted game.
Game he loathed killing, even if it eased his insatiable hunger that was entirely unsatisfied by the array of legumes and nuts he'd managed to gather. He'd thoroughly enjoyed the soup and food his father had brought him, even if he was unwilling to admit it.
His fury with his mother remained unchanged, and he flatly refused to even enter Velaris or one of the small Illyrian shops for supplies on principle.
He'd made a decision and was determined to stick to it.
Groaning, he sat up, rotating his shoulder as he glared at the crudely-drawn ward carved into the cliff face, invisible at first glance, no doubt one of a set designed to isolate the area. It had been surprisingly potent, especially given that it had immediately triggered his magic.
The real question was, who had rendered it and why? And in the middle of the wilderness of the Steppes, miles and miles away from any camps or patrols? As far as Cenric recalled none of the warriors he'd encountered had any knowledge of setting wards, only the use of the primal raw power that they funneled through their siphons.
Curiosity took Cenric as he rose and approached the mark, running his fingers over its surface. It looked like it had been carved with a dull knife, hastily scraped into the dense stone. Had he stumbled on one of the rebels' hideouts? The ones Azriel and his father had spent decades tracking down?
They were surely abandoned at this point . . . and if not . . .
The scent of cool, stale air caught his attention as he spied a narrow natural cave entrance tucked inconspicuously behind a boulder. Palming the dagger at his hip, he made his way toward it, summoning a tendril of power. He could permit himself to use his magic to do a bit of hunting.
Though his emotional wounds had smoothed over at last he wasn't above continuing the chase, especially if it meant catching a few stragglers, even if the use of the wards set warning bells off in his mind. The Illyrians were known for their brute power, not for rendering magical traps.
And if not Illyrian rebels, perhaps he'd find an old hermit who'd have some information on how to make the cheese he was so desperately craving.
Slipping into the narrow passage, he saw that the entrance was rounded, nearly a foot taller than him and about two feet wider, ideal for someone to slip into and find their way into a natural cavern - an excellent place to hide.
Cenric kept his footing beneath him as he walked soundlessly into the darkness, bracing his knees as the natural tunnel began to slope down into the earth, the light fading rapidly behind him. The passage was silent, only the soft scuff of his boots keeping him company.
Down, down he walked for several long minutes, maneuvering around narrow curves in the tunnel, turning and ducking to accommodate them.
The cave walls looked as if they had been polished beneath the hands of running water, their surfaces smoothed to the point of near luster, even in the blackness that he walked through. This cavern had been there for a long time.
Just as he was about convinced he would find nothing and was considering lighting the faelight in his pocket to find his way out, he caught sight of the slightest flickering of light, spilling over into the mouth of the tunnel's exit. Slowing his pace, he crept past the final turn and found himself in a large cavern saturated with fresh scents. The source of the light appeared to be a low-burning lantern sitting in the far corner of the room.
Slowly, he inched forward, examing the array of items spread through the space: maps, weapons, rugged clothes all arranged in a way that told him someone was actively living there. He whirled at a slight scuffle of feet on stone, then found himself plunged into impenetrable blackness as the lantern was extinguished, immediately followed by a blow to his gut, knocking the breath from him.
Oh, someone was certainly here.
Scrambling to counter, he swung blindly in the dark, sending a tendril of dark magic flying that missed as his assailant nimbly dodged. Dipping to the right to try to reorient himself, he felt something catch behind his leg, then a shove that sent him tumbling backwards.
Prepared for such a maneuver, he rolled with the movement, catching himself on his knees. He dug in his heels and attempted to rise but was met with boot slamming down onto his spine, forcing him to the cave floor.
"Don't move."
Cenric froze. He knew that voice.
Breathless, he let his assailant kick him over, something sharp leveling itself at his throat. He squinted as the lantern flared to life again, casting sharp shadows over the pretty, birdlike features and stone-grey eyes above him.
"Valka?"
She glared down at him, her dark hair loose around her shoulders.
Relief washed through him as he fully registered who was standing above him, whole, very much alive, and looking for all the world like she was seriously considering shoving a spear through his throat.
"Valka, it's me, Cenric."
It took the female a moment to register who she'd attacked.
Upon recognizing him she snarled, her lips peeling back in irritation.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." She kicked him none-too-gently in the side, sending a stinging pain through his hip. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me?"
He felt a blush rush up his cheeks, feeling rather foolish. "I was . . . hunting goats to make cheese."
The words sounded even more moronic as he spoke them.
She blinked as though she didn't quite believe what he'd just said. Leaning forward she looked him over before grousing and pulling the weapon away from his throat. "Why the hell are you out here hunting goats? Surely you can get every variety of cheese your heart desires in that little city of starlight."
Lowering the weapon, she reached out her free hand to help him up, he grasped it tightly. The small female yanked him upright with ease, stalking back across the room to hang her lantern from a crude hook. Straightening, Cenric smiled as he looked her over. She'd healed up nicely, it seemed, even if her leathers were a bit worse for wear. He could still make out where she'd patched the puncture holes from where she'd been shot.
Regardless, the fear that he hadn't realized had been knotted in his chest began to ease. He glad to see that she'd merely left the Ironwood camp and hadn't been taken, or worse.
But why was she this far out?
Surely she knew his family harbored no ill feelings toward her and that she was free from any persecution regardless of her adopted lineage? And how long had he been searching for her? He'd been keeping his eyes and ears open for any clue about her whereabouts, and to just stumble upon her in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of the Steppes . . .
Watching her grey eyes flick over him, he felt something else twist in his gut.
Had she always been quiet so….pretty?
She seemed none the wiser to his revelation, looking uneasy as she glanced up the path that he'd descended from.
"Did anyone follow you?" Valka turned her attention back to him, her mouth in a harsh line, wings flaring behind her. She narrowed her eyes as she paused and glanced around before cursing. "You broke my wards, didn't you?"
Oh, they had been her wards. Sheepishness crept in.
"I'm sorry, it was just me." He ran his fingers through his unruly hair, unsure how to proceed. "How are you, by the way?" He nearly slapped himself in the forehead at his awkwardness, thankfully the room was still dark. "I mean, I haven't seen you since . . . well, you almost died." He cringed. "Why are you out here?"
"Oh, I took a nice long stroll in nature, ended up eating a handful of mushrooms and have decided to pursue the life of a wise woman." Valka halfheartedly threw the spear at him, which he easily caught. He watched as she rummaged through a pile of weapons, all freshly polished and laid out as though for quick access. "What the hell do you think I'm doing?" She looked up long enough to gesture around at her supplies and crude quarters.
"Why?" Confusion filled Cenric as he sifted through possible reasons for her seclusion and found no obvious answer. "You're in no trouble with the clans, and if you're fearful you could always stay in Velaris—" Despite his anger with his mother he'd make peace long enough to keep Valka safe, if necessary.
Even if it would kill his pride to do so.
It would be unnecessary, he realized as she crowed a mocking laugh.
"You're a fool if you think your city's pretty shields will help me." Valka pulled free a blunt dagger engraved with old runes along its hilt, likely the same one she'd originally scratched her wards with, and pointed it at him. "And you need to go." She gestured toward the cave's entrance. "Get the hell out and don't come back."
"Valka," caution filled Cenric's voice as the thought of something threatening her registered, "what are you talking about? The rebellion is over, who could possibly be after you—?"
"Someone and something you can't fight, blue eyes," she responded as she grabbed him none too gently by the arm and began dragging him back to the tunnel. "And it's been great to see you again but our little adventure is long over so if you'd so kindly fuck off—"
He dug his heels in as his stubbornness took hold. Clearly, she was in some sort of danger and therefore in need of assistance. He certainly owed it to her, especially after she'd saved his ass in the Rite. And it wasn't like he was doing anything else anyway.
The female hissed as she tugged harder at him, looking as though she were contemplating just picking him up tossing him out the cave entrance herself. Cenric refused to move.
"Try me." For what she'd done for him he'd gladly face whoever or whatever was after her. Mother knew his magic would thank him for directing it outward to destroy whatever it was.
"No." Valka pinched his shoulder hard enough to make him hiss, distracting him long enough for her to shove him forward, herding him another few steps toward the exit. "Now move that tight little ass of yours."
Did she just call his ass tight?
No, he needed to focus on the matter at hand-
"Valka, please." He turned to face her, realizing suddenly just how much taller and broader he was than her, even with the wings. "I owe it to you."
"Do not make me drag you out of here, little lord."
The tone of her voice had shivers dancing up Cenric's spine. Oh, there was no doubt that she'd been trained by Nesta's hand. He squared his shoulders and held his ground; she wasn't his aunt's only student.
"I mean it, Valka. Talk."
She looked up at him with a snarl, eyes flashing in fury and pupils constricting in a way that he knew meant she was about to strike. After several long moments, she relented and shoved him roughly away.
"Fine. You want to help, you pushy bastard?" She pointed toward the cave entrance. "Fix the wards you broke, then get out."
The pain in Cenric's head had dissipated almost entirely as he poured his magic into the carvings that Valka had engraved on the various cliff surfaces. Remaking her wards hadn't been difficult and the magic bubbling beneath his skin had thanked him.
Pleased with his work, he lowered his hand from the mark and hopped down from the boulder he'd crawled atop to reach it. He nimbly landed next to Valka who was watching him with the intensity of a hawk contemplating its prey.
They'd hardly exchanged more than a few words, her irritation with him for breaking the wards in the first place still clear.
He cleared his throat.
"That should fix them and make them stronger too." He craned his neck, stretching out the knot forming in his right shoulder from holding his hand to the mark too long. "No one should be able to accidentally break them again."
"If it hadn't been for you, no one would have accidentally broken them."
He bit his lip, she had a point.
Valka looked off towards the horizon, the soft light of the early autumn sun swathing her cheeks in a beautiful golden hue and making the silver of her eyes burn in a way he couldn't help but take note of. She did look a little worse for wear, her normally silky hair knotted and the curve of her body less pronounced from her meager diet.
Regardless, he certainly didn't remember being quite so distracting in the Rite.
Except for the time you checked out her ass on the cliffs.
He slammed down on that infernal internal voice of his, willing its nonsensical prattling to stop. He refused to act anything like his father, he was a refined gentleman who didn't let such intrusive thoughts dominate his mental space. And in any case, he couldn't be held responsible for any blood loss-induced thoughts that might have occurred to him the last time he had seen the female.
"We've only got about an hour of daylight left. We need to move, the creatures of the forest are eager to hunt." Without even glancing his way, Valka flared her wings and easily glided down the cliff, landing softly on the plush green grass below. He watched her whole descent before he realized what he was doing and immediately followed, cursing his own lack of attention.
He'd no sooner hit the base of the cliff when Valka was upon him, eyes blazing in annoyance.
"You've done your part, now it's time for you to go," she pointed off to the golden rays filtering through the trees to the west. "Get back to wherever you came from before the sun sets. There are things out here that even your magic couldn't face. If you tell anyone you have seen me, I will personally rip your spine out through your asshole—"
Cenric heard the crunch of sticks first, coming from the north side. He tuned out Valka as he focused on the presence, hoping it was just one of the stray mountain goats he'd been tailing most of the morning.
His magic recoiled as it brushed it, rallying around him defensively. The sun hadn't even set yet, surely they had at least a few more hours before the beasts began to hunt?
He heard the snort, the approach of heavy footsteps. They also weren't inside the boundaries of the wards.
"-And one more thing, you pushy, arrogant, male bastard-"
"Quiet," he snapped at Valka, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle. The female immediately stopped her lecturing, brows furrowing.
She caught the sound almost instantly, her eyes widening as she turned her head to the source.
They weren't waiting for the sun to go down this time.
The earth began to thud beneath Cenric's feet as the beast rushed them, its howling piercing the cool evening air. he didn't even give Valka a chance to bolt, instead simply picking her up and winnowing, sending them tumbling through shadow just as the beast pounced where they had been standing.
They hit the floor of Valka's cave with a crash.
"I absolutely fucking loathe you," her muffled voice hissed from beneath him, her breasts unusually soft against his chest. "I hope you die in a fire."
Fat lot of good threatening the dapper little lord had done her, Valka noted with no lack of annoyance as she watched him sitting across the fire from her, cobalt eyes shimmering as he ate the meager meal they'd managed to throw together from her stores.
She'd fully intended to kick him out entirely after he repaired all the wards she'd painstakingly erected months ago, but her plans had been thwarted when they'd been pounced on by one of the werebeasts of the Steppes.
So stupid of her to lose track of her surroundings like that. If it hadn't been for his winnowing she would have had to slay the damned thing, wasting time and risking injury, again. Then again, if he hadn't so rudely shattered her protection and invaded her makeshift home, she wouldn't have even been out at that hour.
The beasts were getting braver, to a point that Valka didn't even think hunting in daylight would protect her anymore. She certainly wasn't foolish enough to venture anywhere at night.
And even with his winnowing she didn't trust the idiot lord to get back to his wherever he'd come from in one piece, so she'd allowed him to stay the night. He was to leave in the morning, werebeast stalking about or no.
She still didn't know how the boy had somehow managed to knock out all seven of her wards when he'd stumbled into them like some fumbling toddler.
Fortunately for her, his knowledge of the subject was deeper and more practiced than her own, and he'd quickly repaired what he'd broken with ease, weaving the protections with more complexity and strength.
Mother knew she'd need every ounce of it that she could conjure. And against far more than just the nasty werebeasts.
She picked at the leg of rabbit on her makeshift plate, irritation filling her as her unwanted companion shot her what he must've thought was a covert glance for the hundredth time since they'd sat down for the evening.
He'd had the audacity to ask if she was feeling well after he'd realized she had an injured shoulder, a nasty gash she'd gotten in a tussle with one of the werebeasts weeks prior but that she'd been handling fine on her own.
Cenric had insisted on seeing it, acting like she was some broken doll that needed stitching.
She'd snapped back at him so harshly that she hoped it'd make him want to leave entirely, but instead she had only achieved the opposite. He'd insisted that if she were that stressed, injured, and unwilling to divulge any information then he'd just have to hang around to assist regardless.
And even though she begrudgingly admitted he had indeed been a huge help in packing and rewrapping her wound, going so far as to apply a salve that had finally driven the ache from the gash, she was beyond frustrated with the male.
Never had she wanted to scream so violently at someone, especially when he'd finally informed her of why he was out here in the first place. Some idiotic quarrel with his mother that had made him feel the need to prove his point in the way that males proved themselves best, by being an absolute obstinate jackass.
Valka could have happily kicked him from one of the cliffs for that alone. If only she had the luxury of indulging in such pettiness, but no, she was in the business of trying to stay alive and avoiding . . . it. She shuddered at the thought, trying not to dwell on the memory of what she'd glimpsed in the healing tent.
She'd fled immediately after, damning the consequences and praying she was capable of evading it as long as she could while she tried to figure out how she could break its hold or at least keep it off her scent long enough to determine another course of action.
And now she had the fool before her to deal with.
"You look upset, if you'd share what's bothering you I'm sure I could help you resolve it. I owe you anyway."
"As you've said for the hundredth time today," she groaned back, not bothering with pleasantness as she watched the male set down his empty plate, the small fire glimmering off the sharp planes of his face. "And the best way you can help is by leaving. Right out that passage, thanks, and please don't come again."
He merely rolled his eyes and eased back onto her bedroll, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. "The sooner you talk the sooner I'll go."
"We'll see if you'll be saying that when I make you leave in the morning."
He didn't even seem to register her words. Peering up at her through dark lashes, he looked over her shoulder again, tilting his head.
"Do you need more salve? I have other pain tonics as well."
"I need you to shut the hell up and go to sleep."
He clicked his tongue and lowered himself back onto her sleeping roll, his form more relaxed than she'd even seen him. It seemed completing the Rite had bought him peace.
Not that it had done even remotely the same for her, on the contrary the results of the damned ritual had made things a hundred times worse. Valka rose from her seat, exhaustion pulling at her mind in a way it hadn't done for some time.
She'd never admit it, but having the male watching her back that night gave her some fraction of peace.
"Get the hell off my bed, I want to sleep."
"Sorry."