But even making light of it, the truth sliced at her, and raw emotion threatened to bubble up, swallow her whole, and leave her in a sobbing mess on the floor. Move forward and get revenge; that’s all that mattered. That was the only way to run from the feelings she dared not speak.
“Did you even love him?” Ludwig tossed back with a hurt tone.
It shocked her to silence for several long minutes.
“I didn’t know you knew…”
She and Ludwig never talked about her love for Elias out loud, because even they had never said it to each other. Not until it was too late. But she loved Elias, and he loved her. She knew because he left her bunches of wildflowers on her pillow, clasped her hand when no one was looking, and kissed her beneath the stars. They’d kept it a secret from everyone, including Ludwig. Not that it mattered now. Even if he’d lived, they could have never been together. He was a servant’s son, and she was a princess.
“How could I not? His eyes were always watching you. His smile only for you.” Ludwig clenched his reins in his fist. “Maybe it’s time we stopped this futile quest for revenge. Marry your prince and live your life, and I will too.”
“I haven’t given up on justice. Why would you think that?” Her temper rose; it wasn’t like Ludwig to act this way. Was it because she hadn’t told him about what Captain Rosen said?
“Because I swore to him, I would protect you; as he lay dying, he begged me to keep you safe. I thought…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Hurt, loneliness, and emptiness shone in his eyes; she recognized them because Elias’ death had gutted her to the point she knew she’d never love again.
“Thought what?”
“If I couldn’t be by his side, then at least his love lived on in you, and seeing you move on, it reminds me that he’s dead and no amount of vengeance will ever bring him back.”
Guilt and shame struck her like a blow to the chest. Why hadn’t she seen it before or thought to ask? She’d assumed his love for Elias was like a brother, but it had been as deep and painful as hers. They could have comforted one another; instead, he’d been suffering in silence alone. Liane reached for him, but Ludwig turned away.
“Forget I said anything.” Ludwig dug in his heels, leaping across the creek.
“Ludwig, wait!” Liane cried out, her voice echoing through the forest.
Beside her, brush rustled, and a black boar stepped out. Its sharp tusks curled up, covered in dried blood and its dark beady eyes fixed on Liane as its nostrils flared. She stood very still, boars were dangerous man killers, and any sudden move might frighten it. Beneath her, the horse trembled, and then the boar screamed.
A heartbeat and a breath, and then it tore through the mud, tusks lowered. Pulling hard on the reins, her horse reared, kicking at the boar. It slashed at its foreleg, tearing the flesh, and sending it into a panic. The horse bolted, and all she could do was grasp a fist full of his mane and hold on.
Hair whipped her face, hers and the horse’s, as they weaved between trees. Branches caught her sleeves, tearing them to shreds. One snapped back, hitting her eye, which watered. The shock of it made her lose her grip. She couldn’t grasp back on as the saddle slid out from beneath her.
For a moment, she floated mid-air, suspended and caught between earth and sky. Then she was falling. Greenery spun around her. She collided hard with the ground. Pain like a bolt of lightning raced up the elbow she landed on.
Stunned, she lay in the undergrowth, staring at the dabbled sky beyond the canopy of trees.Then slowly, she took stock of her injuries, flexing her legs and finding no pain, then moving up to bend her knees and wriggle her ankle and shuffle her leg. Then she tried sitting, wincing at the stabbing pain in her elbow, broken. Bushes rustled, and she floundered for her bow, but she’d lost it in the chaos. One lone arrow remained in her quiver. Grasping it like a dagger, she got to her feet.
“Ludwig?” Liane called.
The whistle of wind answered.
A white flash darted past her periphery, and a tingling sensation flowed out from the scar on her back, like the feeling of a sleeping limb. Instead of feeling heavy and numb, like usual, she felt weightless and aware. Perhaps she’d hit her head in the fall. Liane pressed her fingers to her temple and was relieved to not find a lump or blood.
Then a stag, one half jet black, the other side pure white, stepped out of the shadows. It pinned her with its dual-colored eyes, evoking a memory that floated just out of reach. Liane stumbled backward, and her back collided with the trunk of a tree as the stag dipped its head, pressing its black and white nose against her elbow. When it did, her pain disappeared. Flexing her previously broken arm, she marveled at the complete recovery.
“How did you do this…No, better yet, what are you?”
It said nothing but blinked at her with an intelligent expression, before bounding away to the edge of a clearing. What did she expect from a magic deer? It looked back at her, as if waiting for her to follow. That wasn’t possible. Pressing her hand against her forehead, she checked for a fever. Maybe this was another hallucination? But her skin was cool to the touch.
“Do you want me to follow you?” Liane said.
Saying it out loud only made her feel crazier, but crazier still, the deer seemed to nod almost imperceptibly. She took a faltering step in its direction, gaining confidence with each step. When she was almost close enough to touch, it leapt forward again, before waiting for her between a pair of oak trees.
Then, like a woman possessed, she ran to catch up, but it merely bounded again out of reach. She chased it through the woods unthinking, flashes of memory running through her mind: a moonlight forest, the feel of cold metal in her hand, and a place… she could not recall. While the stag was nimble and spirit-like in its quick movements through the forest, she struggled against thick undergrowth as brambles ripped her trousers and scratched her flesh. But deeper and deeper they went until the stag disappeared.
Liane stopped, turning in a circle looking for the stag, but it was gone. A few yards away, she spotted a half-buried moss-covered column and scattered along the forest floor, crumbled bits of stone. Had the stag taken her to the ruins? No. This place was much too wooded. But it must have been built by the same people because it inexplicably felt the same. The air felt heavy, making it harder to breathe. Her skin itched, twitched, trembled, and her scar throbbed, pulsating, pushing, urging her to do what?
The stag stepped out from beneath a broken archway, carved with an emblem she’d never seen before, but it felt familiar somehow. Sun and moon intertwined, inseparable halves of a greater whole, and their division aligned with the stags’ markings.
“Was this what you wanted to show me?” Liane wondered aloud. “What does it mean?”
