He materializes before me, shaded by the encroaching night. The West Wind.
Flanked by two rotting trees, he strides forth with unfettered confidence, an arrogant waltz. Darkness mutes the emerald tunic to an ash gray. It is strange, but I swear something appears different about his unsightly face. I cannot put my finger on it.
“It’s a long way foryouto wander,” I state with a calm I do not feel. “Won’t the Orchid King come looking for you?” The West Wind hasbeen following me. For how long? I must not shrink as a mouse would in the presence of a hawk.
“I’m curious by nature, as you know. And no, Pierus will not seek me out. Not yet, anyway.” He saunters forward. “Where do you travel?”
I retreat a few paces. “My business is my own,” I say, and leave it at that.
Beneath the bow of his mouth lies a duplicitous cunning. “You run from me, Brielle, yet is there not a debt I owe you?”
My grip on the dagger loosens in surprise. “There is no debt.”
“Isn’t there?”
“The salve you provided me was repayment enough.”
“Ah, but I speak of the first debt, not the second. I gave you the opportunity to seek answers to questions in your life. A chance to change your future. But, if I am correct, you did not like the answer you received, which means my debt to you saving my life remains unfulfilled. I insist you allow me to do you one last favor.”
What is he talking about? “I never asked for favors. You took me to Willow.You. Soyoucould repay the debt you owed me after I saved your life!” His miserable, frustrating life.
Again, he steps forward, and the green of his eyes blackens in this lightless place. “Ah, but you agreed to the bargain. And to a god, one’s word is binding.”
How fearless might I be if I were a man caught unaware in this situation rather than a woman? I tighten my grip around the dagger with renewed vigor. “And if I refuse repayment of this supposed debt?” What will Zephyrus do, steal me away into Under? I will cut off his hand before he can touch me.
He angles his head. “Do not fret, my darling novitiate. Just allow me to fulfill my obligation to you. It is in your best interest to agree. I will not take no for an answer.”
I choke on a surge of fear. “You—” The word dissolves to dust in my mouth. Why is he so adamant about repaying this debt? Why can’t he accept that my aid was given without any expectation of recompense?I shake my head, growing tired of his veiled threats. “No. This is ridiculous.” My hand cuts the air. “Do not engage with me again.”
“Then you accept the consequences.”
It is no bluff. The words carry no carefully crafted loopholes to snag the unsuspecting, no hidden nooks. But I know this: I regret saving him that night.
The Orchid King was right. I cannot trust Zephyrus.
“We are done,” I whisper, turning from the clearing.
“Brielle—”
The weight of his hand on my arm zings through me. I spin, dagger unsheathed, the blade slicing in a practiced arc toward his face. Zephyrus recoils, a hand flying to his cheek. Blood seeps between his fingers as he stares at me incredulously.
I have marked a line of blood on the West Wind’s cheek, yet I feel no shame for it.
“I have told you,” I growl, my voice a wisp of cold. “I have told you again and again not to touch me. This is your final warning. Next time, I will carve a line into your heart.”
Zephyrus blinks, slow with shock, as my heart hurls itself against my sternum. I do not have to be kind. Not to someone who has shown so little consideration toward me.
“Perhaps, had you seen me as a person and not a tool,” I say, “you would have recognized my boundaries sooner.” Without a backward glance, I stride off, the branches forgotten.
Running into Zephyrus only serves to remind me how alone I am. The West Wind is no ally, and Harper is no friend. I have carried my weight, and hers, this entire day. So it is no surprise that I find Harper asleep back at camp, limbs sprawled, lines of exhaustion engraved in her face.
There is no dinner. There is no shelter. And I am too tired to care.
After unpacking my bedroll in the chilly, rot-damp night, I settle in, pulling my blanket around my body. An owl coos as I rest my head in the crook of my arm and close my eyes.
But I do not sleep.
12
