Page 57 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
It had to.
Caer cocked his head. “Are you all right?”
She wanted to say ‘fine’ but found that she could not. Mercifully, however, she was tired. “Exhausted,” she admitted. “I think Beau was right about me needing eight hours. Too many late nights. Maybe… maybe I should lie down.”
“All right,” said Caer, still frowning. The dwarves, usually first to fall asleep, were still wide awake.
Aislinn slithered into her cold bed roll and turned to stare at the stars. She tried not to think about the moon dance, of the colour of his skin in the silken light, the feel of the magic pressing between them or the way his dark lashes fanned beside the campfire.
When the noise of the rest of the party died down, she tried not to think about how he was doubtless lying awake a few feet away, staring up at the sky, and for reasons she couldn’t explain—or didn’t want to—she wanted more than anything to crawl out of her bed and sit beside him, talking until the night turned to dawn.
The day that Cass had died had dawned like any other, the quest feeling no different from the dozens of others they had been on. Ogres stealing mortals, sirens sinking ships, a rogue dragon in the mountains—even at eighteen and nineteen respectively, it felt like they had seen it all.
They’d been called to the Spring Court after receiving reports of a giant destroying some hamlets to the north. They had fought giants before. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, or no more than they were used to.
Daisy got bitten by a snake on the way there. It was venomous, but Beau applied the anti-venom and had no concerns about his recovery. The giant’s tracks were leading to a nearby village. They didn’t want to delay.
“Go on without me,” Daisy insisted. “I mean, come back when you’re done, don’t abandon me forever, but please go kill the giant and make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
“All right,” said Cass.
Daisy pouted. “You could at leastpretendto be considering it…”
It made sense. They shouldn’t delay. More could die if they did.
But Aislinn didn’t want to take Beau with them if it was just the three of them. Four was a better number. Four meant three of them could look out for Beau. If it was just the three of them…
She and Cass would do better alone. She wouldn’t have to watch out for him. His magic was still weak from a combat point of view anyway. That was part of the point of bringing him along—so that he could practise, not die.
She made him stay with Daisy. She said that it was safer for everyone, that Daisy could do with him, that it was just a giant, nothing they hadn’t handled before.
Beau argued, and huffed, and cried, and finally relented.
They went alone.
And Cass died.
It would be months before Aislinn was even ready to listen to the idea that it wasn’t her fault, and to this day, it would bubble back up uninvited, whispering in her ear that she had killed her best friend, that she had failed as a leader, that she had failed ateverything.
She could not be queen. She could not even protect her best friend.
She’d thrown herself even more into training afterwards, sparring until her hands bled, practising her healing skills until she passed out, crying in frustration when her magic failed her, again and again.
Only sheer stubbornness kept her alive—stubbornness and the memory of Cass’ disapproving face.Avenge me, bitch, and move on!
She’d done one. The second was a permanent journey that Aislinn wasn’t sure she’d ever finish.
But she’d try. She had to.
She woke long before dawn, in the deepest part of the night, breathing heavily. Someone else was awake by the fire.
“Caer?” she said hopefully.
“No such luck,” Fort replied. “It’s just me.”
“What are you doing up?”
Fort shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I usually sleep well, but tonight I can’t seem to. It’s no matter. Girth here can carry me tomorrow if I need to sleep.” She patted the back of the wargi she was resting against. He rolled towards her at the motion, stuffing his massive head in her lap. Fort smiled, turning her gaze towards the sky. “Seems a shame to sleep on nights like this, anyway. Almost seems wasteful.”
