A Sacrifice of Names

Chapter 22

The conversation between her and Keely rattled around her thoughts as Earie made her way back to Daleagh's main square. Conflicted was perhaps the best way to describe how she was feeling. The thought of home was a painful longing calling for her whenever her green eyes caught sight of something familiar. She knew she was stuck here, stuck in a world not her own, waiting for a war that wasn't hers to fight, and yet she felt every bit responsible.

She had not mentioned her dream to anyone, her dream of the horned figure. It all felt oddly coincidental. The night prior was the first time she had seen the antler-like shapes growing from the shadow figure's head. She had even tried to touch them, perhaps would have succeeded if he hadn't stepped away from her. Apart from his warning the rest of the dream was now but a blur, one to be forgotten over time just like all others.

Earie halted in front of the statue of the Horned King, casting her eyes up. A cold chill ran through her, one she desperately tried to rub away with the palm of her hand pressed against her inner arm.

Not one part of her believed him to have been the one visiting her in her dreams all this time. It could not be. The book had mentioned he had grown insane during the war with the Court of Light and as leader of the Court of the Fallen, a crownless king, would he not have betrayed her whereabouts by now if they were so desperate to have her?

Despite the obvious imagery she simply refused to believe this was the person, the man she had grown to long for in her dreams. His hushed whispers, his ghostly touches. Earie averted her gaze, squeezing her eyes shut in the hope to get rid of the thought.

"Already grown accustomed to the place?"

Her eyes fluttered open only to find Brenhin's pale hand waving in front of her face.

"You haven't fallen asleep standing, have you?"

Her gaze rested on his broadening grin, but quickly noticed it did not reach his eyes. In fact, he looked more tired than she had seen him before, his hair messier than usual.

"Wha-" The words would not come to her. She had not seen him ever since their arrival in Daleagh, nor had she expected to see him again, a traitor to his own people. His grin was but a mask, one even she saw through. Earie gritted her teeth, making Brenhin quirk an eyebrow.

"Stop following me," she finally muttered, loud enough for only him to hear.

"Hm, wasn't following you, dear," he replied with one of his nonchalant shrugs. "You stand out in the crowd, you know. I thought it would be nice to come and talk, see how you are doing."

"Liar," she hissed before realising.

"Liar? That is a grave accusation." Brenhin folded his arms over one another. Only then Earie noticed that one of his hands was bandaged, a dark bruise reaching one of his fingers. "Didn't you ever notice that none of us can?"

The colour on her cheeks faded a little. She wasn't thinking, wasn't paying attention. Uttering the wrong words now would only give herself away. He was looking for her. She was the one the Court of the Fallen wanted and he was tasked to bring her to them. She cast her gaze up, looking directly into the eyes of the one who she knew was a deceiver, just like she was.

Someone she could not trust and never should have.

"Then tell me why you always appear when I least want you to?"

Brenhin pretended her words made him flinch. "Ouch. You could have just told me to stay away, Ailbhe. But to answer your question; fate?"

Earie took a step back. "Why are you here?"

Brenhin gave her a long, questioning look. "As I said, I saw you standing here, looking a little lost if you ask me, so I came to talk to you."

"I meant why are you here, in Daleagh?"