Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 47: Crossing

Minerva hugged Azuki to her body with one hand and grabbed Kodak's wrist with the other. "You've been avoiding me."

"Not here," Kodak whispered, still looking at the road ahead. "I'll find you tonight."

So he'd noticed her slinking away from the fire to sit alone at meals. She let go of his arm and returned back to her place towards the rear of the convoy.

"You're crushing me," Azuki said.

"Sorry." Minerva loosened her hold. "I really missed you."

Azuki scrambled onto her shoulder and kneaded her cloak with his paws. "You know what I miss?"

"What?"

"The salmon you didn't give me." He wheezed with kat-like laughter.

Taras called a halt a few hours later and the group dismounted and dispersed to tend to their jobs. Minerva tried to keep out of the way until a pile of firewood had been assembled. Then, surrounded by expectant eyes, she lit it—the only job the Hydros had given her.

After procuring her bowl of stew and a biscuit, she retreated to sit in the short grass close to where the tokas browsed. Azuki tasted her meal before deciding to hunt instead. He bounded away across the plain.

The stubble of the ground crunched under boots. Kodak sat down beside her, biscuit in his mouth, bowl and flask in his hands. Crickets chirped while they ate. The stew was nothing special, but it warmed Minerva's stomach.

Kodak stared into his empty bowl. "You weren't what I expected."

"What were you expecting?" Minerva asked, setting down her bowl and pulling her legs up to her chest.

"Either an invalid or some sort of violence-crazed demon spawn depending on the rumor. But then you came tearing through those Terrons and I saw ... that I'm not the only one." His dark blue eyes locked on hers, begging her to say she understood.

Minerva stretched out her hand and brushed the tips of Kodak's fingers where they rested on the ground. "You wanted to know you're not alone in this fight," she whispered. "You're not. We're not."

The Hydro prince laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. "Are we letting bygones be bygones? If you can forgive me for trying to steal your heart, I'll let go of the fact that you almost ensured I'd die childless."

"You still might." She smirked at him.

"Steal your heart or die childless?"

Minerva laughed but didn't answer. Kodak wouldn't know how close he'd come. Harnessing another's heart stone shouldn't have been so easy for him. If it had been the Phoenix Kin she'd killed, a man lusting after its power, he wouldn't have been able to wield it. As a worst case scenario, the kirukkan stone would rebel and burn up the offender like Fire Fever.

It was no wonder the practice of exchanging stones went out of date. But it had surprised her that Kodak understood what it took to use hers, however unconsciously. The element of fire demanded respect—it was your equal. If you feared it or abused it, the flames would consume you.

Minerva didn't have romantic sentiments—just because Kodak could wield her heart stone didn't mean it marked him as her soulmate. She didn't believe in destined lovers or the red string of fate.

But as he smiled at her in the moonlight—his eyes soft and luminous—she knew that she would stand by his side. Kodak might not have her love, but he had something better. He had her respect.

"I'll teach you how to dance before the lunar festival," Kodak said. "It's not so different from fighting really. I think you'd be good at it."

Minerva smiled back at him. "I'd like that."

He pointed at the sky, traced out the constellations and told her their stories. Of Volka, the wolf who once swallowed the moon and Umbra, the thief of stars. She slept soundly that night and crawled out of her bedroll early and refreshed for the journey ahead.

Kodak rode next to her, oblivious to or ignoring the glances his companions gave them. Azuki sat on Aquarius' head. At times, he placed a paw on the toka's curled horns and stood on his hind legs for a better view.

"What's that sound?" Minerva whispered to Kodak while the Hydro king consulted with the checkpoint officials.

"It's the river," Kodak answered. "It'll be high from the ice melt."

They passed through the gated wall. On the other side, the Icestone Bridge spanned across a raging river. Its waters frothed white. Minerva couldn't see where the bridge reached the other end.

As the tokas stepped onto the grey stone, Minerva's heart stuck in her throat. Drawn by a strange fascination, she walked Aquarius to the rails and peered over the edge. If she fell over the side, her clothes would drag her down and the river would swallow her. The Hydros joined her at the side and one by one, flung an object into the current.

"We're giving back to the sea for luck," Kodak explained softly. He showed her a cone-shaped sandy brown shell before tossing it to the waters.

Watching the seashell sink into the foam, Minerva fingered the ring in her pocket. The oath to carry out vengeance on the Phoenix Kin had been her purpose, her driving force. But eliminating the Phoenix Kin wouldn't be possible and maybe it had never been the answer.

The enemy is within me. No longer will I choose vengeance. Today I choose mercy.

Minerva cast the ring into the river to be borne away into the sea. The snake's ruby eyes glinted in the sun and disappeared into the water. A sharp pang twinged her neck before vanishing and a weight lifted from her shoulders.

"What was that?" Kodak asked. Their tokas resumed their steady walk across the bridge.

"Something I should have let go of a long time ago," Minerva answered.

When they reached the apex of the bridge, the stone tiles met opaque ice. The Hydro half glittered white. Beyond, a layer of frost coated the land.

Minerva passed the line where stone turned to ice. A rush of cold wind hit her face and her breath rose in clouds like smoke or steam. Wrapping her arms around herself, she felt a crunch of paper beneath her cloak.

The Hydro embassy lingered to admire the view, so she let Aquarius' reigns slacken and took out the letter Matsudo had given her. Her shaking finger traced the faded script written in Edina's hand. When she unfolded the paper within, the handwriting didn't match.

Protect her. Nemesis seeks a foothold, but she should not be able to reach beyond the border. Not many call on the goddess of night and Phoenix's eyes are elsewhere. Ash has already claimed one. For Edina's sake, keep our little blossom safe.

Minerva's vision blurred. She stuffed the letter back in the envelope before her tears ruined it. "I'll remember you, mother," she murmured. Coaxing Aquarius to a halt, she turned in her saddle for one last look at home.

There, at the border, the shadow stood on the stone. Ribbons of darkness wafted around its form, but could not cross the line, as if an invisible barrier divided the bridge in two.

"Kodak," Minerva called, her voice rising with a high note of terror.

"I see it," he said from beside her. When she looked up at him, his face was pale and drawn. The prince took her hand in his. "Look again."

The shadow's lines sharpened into Nemesis' form. Her hands tore at the tangled mess of her black hair. Mouth opening in a silent shriek, the goddess threw herself at the barrier. The air crackled like lightning before flinging her several feet back. Eyes livid with hate, Nemesis repeated the process several times with the same result.

"I don't want to watch anymore," Minerva said quietly.

Kodak let go of her hand and clicked his tongue for the tokas to start walking.

Hand closing over her heart stone and its rapid pulse, she crossed the bridge. From the past, she moved forward through the present toward the future and the unknown. The voice of fear grew faint in her ears.

For the first time since Edina died, hope kindled its flame—blossoming like flower fire in the hollow of Minerva's chest.