The Liberian

Chapter 49

“Fine.” Derek rolled his eyes, resigned.

Halle brought her hands together, lacing and unlacing her fingers. Elecia had refused him openly, publicly, coyly—and he had let her. As Elecia stepped to Derek’s left, it dawned on Halle that the woman acted as the same way Halle did around the prince. Halle bit her lip; perhaps Derek was more familiar with Elecia than he was with her.

“Halle,” Derek’s voice summoned her attention. “I want you to see what you are working toward. Gales has informed me that you have yet to master the basics.”

Halle nodded and ignored Elecia’s smug snort.

“Hardy, Fritz, I would like for you both to pair off as a demonstration,” Derek commanded.

“What about me?” Elecia whined.

“You are not even supposed to be here.” Derek gave her a small glare, and the woman laughed. The sound made Halle’s skin crawl. “I would also like to see where you both are at, so do not m**m or kill each other, but do not hold back.”

Hardy and Fritz nodded, their faces sobering.

“Begin on my mark, then. And refrain from embarrassing yourselves.” Derek lifted a hand.

Fritz and Hardy took a few steps away from each other, each sinking into a very different fighting stance. Fritz was more upright, his legs wide and his hands flat and lower, near his abdomen. Hardy had her knees bent and her fists near her face, ready to pounce.

Derek dropped his hand, and Hardy charged before Halle could blink. She drew back a fist as though she was going to throw a right hook but, at the last moment, dropped her shoulder for a left uppercut. Fritz raised his open palm, creating a shield of ice. It hissed and shattered as Hardy’s fist, now swathed in flame, slammed into it.

Fritz pushed his other hand forward into her shoulder, freezing a portion of it. Hardy gasped and stepped back, the ice quickly turning into a puddle around her feet. She had no time to catch her breath as he lunged. His wrist twitched, and he suddenly wielded a dagger of ice in his palm. Hardy deflected by raising up her arm, and it shattered on her gauntlet.

She dropped and swept her foot on the ground, catching Fritz’s ankle and sending him tumbling backwards. Hardy pulled back a flaming fist and threw her momentum into it. Fritz moved his hands as if to block, but he was too slow.

Halle’s hands rose to her mouth as she concealed a cry, fearful for her friend.

Hardy’s fist smashed through Fritz’s face, and his body dissolved in a puff of smoke. The Western woman turned with a groan. Halle caught a shift in the light behind her. There was a flash of ice and Fritz faded back to sight, holding an ice dagger at Hardy’s throat.

“Every time!” Hardy threw up her hands, and Fritz backed away with a grin, tossing the wickedly sharp icicle aside. “Every time!” she said again, kicking the ground in frustration.

Halle stared in wonder.

“The minister told me about you,” Derek commented, taking a step over toward Fritz. “A gifted illusionist.”

“I don’t know if I’m gifted,” he said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What, what was that?” Halle forced out in shock when her tongue was working again.

“She’s like a newborn bunny!” Elecia giggled to Derek, as though Halle wasn’t even there. “She has never seen illusions before.”

Derek shot the woman a pointed look before turning back to Halle, his features relaxing. “Fritz, would you like to explain it to Halle?” the prince ordered the Southern man, but never took his eyes off her.

“Water affinities can use the water in the air to distort the light, to create smoke screens, fogs,” Fritz started, clearly uncomfortable by the praise and attention.

“And illusions, if the sorcerer is skilled enough.” Derek motioned to Fritz, directing Halle’s attention back to her friend.

Fritz waved his hand in demonstration and an identical image formed next to him.

Halle gasped softly, taking a step toward the apparition. It looked like Fritz in every way, and Halle raised a hand—no one stopped her. The illusion dissipated under her fingertips, nothing more than a puff of vapor.

Halle’s eyes widened.

She was no longer standing in that forest clearing; she was living a waking nightmare. Her twisted dreams merged with the reality before her and the horrible memories that she had pushed from her consciousness. There was wind, there was fire, there was death, and there was blood splattered across her arms and face as she watched bodies torn to shreds by howling gusts. It had been her desire. She had wanted them dead. She had wanted them more than dead, she wanted the Northerners to suffer.

Halle took a step back, shaking her head. That wasn’t who she was.

“No,” she whispered. Someone took a step toward her; all she saw were shadows from her dreams. Shadows she ripped apart by touching. “Don’t come any closer,” she gave a quivering warning. Halle brought up her hands to her ears, the screams of the people whom she had murdered filling her consciousness. She realized in horrible clarity what had been haunting her, the blood on her hands that she’d been ignoring.

She felt dizzy. Her legs buckled beneath her, and her body doubled over.

“Halle, what’s wrong?” Fritz asked, his voice faint.

“Go,” she panted. They shouldn’t be near her. At the edge of her guilt-shattered conscious she could hear a wind roaring. Halle gripped her head tighter. She had meant to kill those Northerners on the Night of Fire and Wind, but she had not known what killing meant.

Halle.” Derek’s voice was strong and level, cutting through the din of the chaos in her head. “Stop. Breathe,” he instructed, and she forced herself to oblige. His voice rang over the storm raging within her. “Open your eyes.”

Halle squinted open one eye, and then the next. Even though it was almost night, the world had a hazy glow to it. Derek was surrounded in the golden, almost white, flame that she’d seen him in before. He burned brighter than any of the others assembled. She struggled to shift her vision back to normal, and her eyes fluttered closed.

“Look at me.” Derek shook her.

She opened her eyes and focused on his face, slowly regaining control of her magic sight. Her breathing was ragged, and her hands trembled. Concern was written across Derek’s furrowed brow.

“Mother save me, I really killed them,” she gasped.

His mouth fell open a moment, but he recovered and relaxed his grip on her wrists. Derek stood, helping Halle to her feet. When she had her balance, Derek finally let go of her and took a step away. “Fritz, take her back to camp,” he ordered briskly.

“Is it a good idea for me to—” Fritz was uncertain.

“Do not try my patience, Charem,” Derek growled. He was every inch the Fire Lord.

It was all Fritz needed to spring to life. He scampered over to her and paused. “Can you walk? I mean, do you want help?”

She shook her head. “I can do it.”

Elecia stepped toward Derek. Her voice was low, but it was loud enough for Halle to hear. “She is not ready. You need to give this up now; there isn’t anything you can do for her.”

“Neiress,” Derek barked out Hardy’s family name, ignoring Elecia. “I could use a round, if you feel up to it.”

“It would be my honor, my prince.” Hardy gave a bow.

Fritz tugged Halle’s attention from the scene, pulling her toward the forest that was between them and camp. She glanced back over her shoulder as a fury of flames burst out in the deepening darkness. Elecia stood, leaning against a tree. The flames lit her face, and she ran her thumb across her lips in thought. Halle turned forward, relieved the woman wasn’t following them after Derek’s dismissal.

Fritz and Halle walked in an uneasy silence as the sounds of clanking armor and bursts of flame began to fade and meld into the growing sounds of camp. Halle focused on the ground, letting him lead her by the hand. She chewed over her words, trying to find some kind of explanation.

“Halle, I’m really, really sorry and-and I don’t know what I did but I didn’t mean to upset you.” Fritz broke the silence like a dam shattering. “I thought it’d be interesting for you to see, and I don’t know if it messed with your magic or something, but I promise I won’t do it again.”

“It’s not your fault.” She shook her head, feeling guilty. “It reminded me of something ... You couldn’t have known. Please, don’t feel bad. It really was amazing.”

“If you want to talk about it,” he offered, returning to her side as they began to walk again.

“No.” She put an end to the notion sharply.

Fritz walked her all the way back to her tent. When she insisted she had no appetite, he went to dinner on the promise that he would set aside a portion for her. Halle wasn’t sure if he would be successful, but she was too tired to care. She barely found the energy to pull off her armor before collapsing in the bedroll.

Despite being overwhelmed and at the brink of exhaustion, sleep didn’t come. Halle watched shadows from campfires dance on the walls of her tent. She closed her eyes briefly, but every time she did a new horror awaited her. Halle wasn’t sure how much time had passed but Hardy’s entrance was a relief.

“Welcome back,” she whispered.

“You’re awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” Halle explained the obvious.

“You need to try,” Hardy ordered softly, putting her armor at the foot of her bedroll.

“How was the rest of the training?” Halle asked, changing the subject.

“Whenever the prince steps into the fray, the memory of your experience always lingers.” Hardy rubbed her shoulder generously as she crawled under her blanket.

Silence settled heavily between them, suppressing the words that needed to be said. It lasted so long that Halle was sure Hardy had fallen asleep. But the other woman took a slow breath. “Halle.”

“Yes?” she whispered back.

“I know it isn’t my business ...” Hardy’s uneasy start set Halle’s heart to racing. “But you know he cares for you, right?”

Halle stared into the darkness at Hardy’s shadowy outline. She shifted, her stomach getting that strange feeling again—likely because she hadn’t eaten. “He’s a friend,” she confessed for the first time to anyone. Halle thought back to the day in the chapel and her mind betrayed her by also flooding her with memories of a dance in the water gardens of the palace on the night of the gala. It all seemed like a dream from where she was now.

“A friend?” Hardy mused over the notion aloud.

“A dear friend ...” Halle felt the strange urge to qualify.

Hardy clicked her tongue but withheld further comment.

Halle curled into a ball with a sigh and finally closed her eyes. Horrors did not greet her. A prince with a golden circlet was painted across her memories.

“VHAL ... Vhal.” Fritz nudged her gently.

“What?” Halle yawned.

“You need to eat something.”

This again. “I’m not hungry.” She rubbed her eyes with the soft leather that covered her palms. It had been three days since the night in the forest, and none of them had mentioned training since. It made Halle feel all the more broken, defective.