Starcrossed

Into The Murkwood

The dock is different in the morning light.

There are quite a few boats, and one larger ship resting in the deepest part of the river. In the moonlight, the river was nothing but dark water and cascading moments of molten silver as the current broke upon larger rocks. Now, I can see how wide it stretches, and how crystalline it is in the sunlight.

The sails of the largest ship are rustling gently in the breeze as they are readied for departure, and beyond them the giant, gnarled trees of the Murkwood loom. Most of the thorny branches are woven together, reminding me of a thicket and not a forest. Everything about the Murkwood screams: Do not enter.

Schools of fish dart beneath the high rising walkways fleeing from the nets being cast by fishermen on the lower levels of the dock. The warehouses are a bustle of bodies and voices shouting directions. It's the same warehouse where we fought the night before—none of the workers seem to be acting as though they discovered anything out of the ordinary. 

I stare at Ace's back, his hand clasping mine. It makes me feel like a child. Irritation builds in my stomach and I pull myself free from his grasp.

"I can walk on my own, thanks."

I pick up my pace, walking a step ahead of him now. It's childish, I know that, but for some reason I can't stop myself. He hums beside me, completely unbothered and relaxed, arms lifted and resting behind his head as he walks. His gaze is drifting around, observing the world in lazy curiosity.

Or at least, that's the facade he is presenting. 

"It's a beautiful day."

"We're not here to sightsee," I remark.

Ace drops his arms, letting out a sigh.

"Even if we find a ship, we won't leave until they're ready."

I know he's right. That all of my haste isn't going to make anything or anyone move faster. But after the events of last night, my body is buzzing—I can't get rid of the anxiety that something bad is going to happen. I want to put as much distance between me and Willow's Green as fast as possible.

"You can sightsee all you want after you've secured us passage." 

Ace nudges his shoulder into mine, moving us both out of the way of several men carrying a large crate toward the lower docks.

"Fine. I'll find a ship"

"Good."

I move away from him and take a step in the direction of the warehouses.

"Where are you going?"

There is a sharpness to his tone and edge to his gaze that is no longer playful. He thinks I'm running off, the suspicion is written on his face—the corners of his mouth turned down in a slight frown.

I stare at him, pondering for a moment, if I should actually make a break for it. Then to my own surprise, I point to the empty sheath at my waist. I don't want to leave anything Liam gave me behind. The short sword I'm willing to part with but losing one of the daggers—his first gift, it's not something I can do as easily even if it would be wiser to let it go.

"I'm only going to see if I can find it. I'll be right back." 

"I don't think it's a good idea to separate."

"Why? Afraid I'll ditch you?" I ask

His lips press together and his gaze shifts away from my face toward the north—toward the Murkwood.

"That assassin..."

I scoff.

"I told you, I can handle myself. You already know I'm capable of handling any problems—"