Page 19 of Knight of Staria


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Rey shrugged again. “I suppose.”

Eli pulled a face. “I guess I can see that, giving up everything you are to not be lonely anymore.”

“Well, I don’t mind being lonely, whether I’m a fox or a man. It’s safer on my own.” He caught Eli looking and sighed. “I know I’m a coward, Eli. It’s in my nature.”

“That’san excuse.”

“Look, some people are what they are. It’s immutable.” Rey squinted at him. “Are we arguing? This feels like we’re arguing.”

“Immutable? So you’re just stuck with how you are forever and can’t change, because being a coward or a monster is ingrained in your soul?”

Eli charged on ahead, hugging his cloak closer to his chest. Rey, bewildered, ran to catch up.

“You don’t know the way.”

“Then show me,” Eli snapped. Even angry, he kept his dominance from spreading, the slightest suggestion of displeasure lingering in the air. “Let’s get it over with.”

Rey pointed deeper into the forest, and Eli hunched his shoulders as he walked at Rey’s side, cheeks flushed. Rey felt the urge to apologize, but he couldn’t—he was right.

Hewasa coward. He’d always be a coward.

Everything Eli was going through, every mouthful of ash or stalking hunter, every pang of hunger and cold night in the wilderness, was because of Rey.

Sir Emeric was never supposed to face the King of the Hunt alone.

Rey was supposed to bring the sword back to Emeric. That was the plan—for Emeric to strike down the king with his own blade. But Rey had panicked at the last minute. It was impossible. They were better off hiding it and disappearing for a time, not facing the king in a battle they might not win. He had thrown the sword in a spring with the help of a local witch, and when Emeric found out, he hadn’t agreed to hide away with Rey until it all blew over. He just told Rey to run, grabbed his own sword, and gone to face the king himself.

Now his descendant was cursed to clean up the mess Rey had made, all because Rey was too afraid to face King Tristan at Emeric’s side.

I couldn’t help it,he thought, as Eli stumbled over a tree root, ignoring Rey’s offered hand.It’s in my nature.

“Stop.” Eli staggered to a halt as Rey searched the trees around them, sniffing the air. “It’s close. There, those three trees. That’s where it is.”

Eli approached the trees. They were twisted together, with just a few narrow gaps between the trunks, and the water in the hole their roots made was black as pitch. Eli grimaced as he reached in, water soaking his already dirty shirt.

“I feel something,” he said. His body jerked. “Feels…Feels stuck. Caught in something.”

“It’s a spell,” Rey said, a little mournfully. “The witch made it. Only an honest man can draw the sword. I couldn’t even budge it.”

Eli let go as though the sword had bitten him. Brackish water dripped down his arm and onto the grass. “Then we need to find an honest man.”

“You can’t. They don’t exist. It’s a trick, you see. No one is ever truly honest. Maybe if you left Staria,” he added, as Eli stared into the hole where the sword lay. “Maybe the curse won’t follow you.”

“I’m not running, and we’re not done.”

“But we are! It’s over!” Rey gestured to the trees. “You don’t want the Wild Hunt to regain power, do you? You know what they do—they hunt people down for sport. They kill people with their dances. They’re wicked, they hurt for amusement.”

“Which is why,” Eli said, shaking off his arm, “when I have the sword, I’ll?—”

“No,” Rey said, urgently.

“—strike him down with his own blade.”

“You can’t.” Rey grabbed Eli by both shoulders. “Why do you people think you can just do this? Why do you have to throw yourself at your own death?”

“You said it, Rey, the king hurts for pleasure. I won’t let anyone else go through what I’ve been through.”

Rey’s fingers tightened on Eli’s shoulders. He could still see Emeric walking away, treading quietly to his death. “Stop being so bloody noble and think about yourself for once!”