Secrets

“Then out with it, already. Why did you hide the body? Why did you come to Everthorn? Clearly not to pay good old Corbin a visit. What danger, Bryonn? Tell me. I’m begging you, please.”

“Bryonn!” Heavy footsteps sounded from nearby, from the direction of the tavern. Corbin’s voice- he’s here, finally- boomed loudly at them.

Corbin’s form became clear as he came nearer, and from a distance Verona could see his mouth downturned into a deep frown. His brow was furrowed. He looked furious, as he hurriedly approached them.

“Corbin!” She took a step towards him, only to be barred by Bryonn’s arm. He glowered at her, shaking his head slightly. She shoved against him. “Let me go,” She warned, her teeth clenched. “What are you doing?” She yelled, her voice painfully shrill now. “Let me go to him!”

Corbin, now standing directly before Bryonn and Verona, glanced at her, his expression indecipherable.

“Bryonn,” He said simply. Something in his tone, though- something about it sent shivers down Verona’s spine. He sounded like a stranger. His words earlier that day echoed in her mind.

I should have known better than to try. This is all my fault.

What was he talking about? None of this was his fault. Not even Firmin’s death at Verona’s hands. She’d lost control. She’d been wearing the sash, using magic she didn’t know she had. Corbin was not responsible for her mistakes.

The half-fae sighed heavily, and lowered his arm. Verona took the several steps it took to stand next to Corbin, who only peered at her and narrowed his eyes. She had never noticed the man’s broad shoulders until now, she realized. Or how muscular his build really was. That explained how he’d been able to lift a horse carcass off of her and carry her to the tavern that day…

She swore. Bryonn was right, she knew nothing. With a pang in her gut, she sighed. Corbin was certainly not a mere human, and Bryonn’s fae body would always outrun her, outmaneuver her. Where his every step was graceful, hers were bogged down by years of underuse and abuse of her body.

“Verona,” Corbin continued, his voice hushed. “There are some… things… I haven’t told you.” She could see that. Her facial expression must have said as much, for the steel in the bartender’s eyes turned back into the warm, gentle dark eyes she had known since she was young.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, then? You almost told me back at the Crow, in that strange back room. Why did you let half-breed over here kidnap me?” Bryonn, who now stood beside Corbin, snarled at the term half-breed, and immediately Verona’s instincts told her to run. But fae could move unbelievably fast, fae had magic. There was no chance to escape. No promise that even if she got away, Bryonn wouldn’t simply blast her away with fairy magic. She stood, still behind Corbin, and pivoted slightly to search for an escape. Her pulse fluttered at her neck.

Running was all she knew, and there was clearly no way to fight this…this half-fae before her. And gods knew what Corbin was, if he kept company with the fae. With her burned palms, and without the sash, Verona was as helpless as Amona had been under the bulk of that harbinger. as her guts spilled upon the ground, and Verona had been pinned helplessly, her breath escaping her from her best friend’s dead weight.

“That’s a hateful term, Verona,” Corbin’s tone was even, calm, perfectly level, but it did nothing to quell her fear.

“Also, if I were you,” Bryonn chimed in- having visibly regained his composure- “I wouldn’t throw the term around. And not because it’s simply rude, but-.”

“Enough. Clearly, we need to talk.” Corbin threw Bryonn another glance. They knew something. They both knew something that she didn’t. Evidently involving her. “I need to be sure you’re… cognizant, first.”

That ass. She wasn’t even drunk today. A woodpecker drilled into a nearby tree. Verona glanced at the little bird, grateful for the momentary distraction. Its red belly was stark against the dark wood of the pine it hammered on, a flash of crimson on the rough chocolate brown trunk.

“I was too busy being attacked and nearly killed to drink at all today. But you knew that, Corbin. Now. Let me go.”

She opened her mouth to address him but the bartender continued speaking, still watching Bryonn out of the corners of his eyes. Almost as if they were waiting for something. But for what?

“Verona. You… we… need to leave Everthorn.”

The words hit her like a brick.

“What?” She had almost not realized she said it out loud. Hell, maybe that mead last night had hit her harder than intended.

“We will pack as necessary- all of us- and leave in two days’ time. There should be a safe location far to the North for us.”

What was he talking about? Verona glanced at the two of them in earnest. At Corbin, that familiar gentle face, and at Bryonn, the half-fae stranger. He grasped that fine gold-leafed lute, feigning calm- but she could note how tightly he held it. His knuckles were white. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horrendously wrong. Warmth built up in her chest, a strange feeling. Almost a burning sensation.

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The nightmare from earlier that night came back to her in fragments, then. It almost felt like she existed between this alley- still tucked behind the kindly bartender- and the horrific, bloody nightmare.

The world came whirling down upon her in wailing screams and masked ruination. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She had to run, had to get away before the feathered demon spotted her. Trying to gain her footing, her boot slid, and she nearly fell. The ground beneath her feet was soaked with blood, the smell of rot and gore overwhelming her senses.

The shadowy silhouette of a large raptor above, talons extended, as the bird dove towards her.

It’s here. It’s too late. A shape appeared before her, broad-shouldered, wings spread and burning with wildfire. He released a wreath of flame, and the dark falcon circled around them once more before disappearing into the ether.

It was him. That face- his face, angelic and calm- gazed at her, expression blank.

This… in the nightmare, this was always when she fell into that vacuum of darkness below.

Chosen by the maker of stars, crafted by the universal light… A genderless, bell-like voice sounded in her head, although the winged man’s lips formed the words.

She screamed.

Worse. How was it getting worse? Was she asleep? Had Bryonn and the session been a dream?

“Verona!” A familiar voice sounded, manic with worry, from beside her. She felt warm hands on her shoulders, shaking her, and stared directly into Corbin’s eyes. His brow was furrowed in concern, his lips downturned into a deep frown. He and Bryonn exchanged a look. “It’s getting worse.”

“What…what did you see?”

So it hadn’t been a dream or a vision? A hallucination? Her mind whirled, uncertain what to make of any of this.

The two men nodded to each other, before Bryonn’s fingers started to pluck his golden lute. The strings vibrated, perfectly in tune, and the half-fae began to sing.

Music, soft and gentle, caressed her. All of the terror she had known, the nightmare, the blood, falling, falling falling- ceased to exist. That painful heat- the warmth- in her chest subsided. The edges of her vision turned to hues of gold and pink, and the scent of fresh moss became overwhelming.

She tipped backwards, faintly aware of Corbin’s arms bearing her weight.

She blinked back the moisture in her eyes, and started as images danced before her. They were so real, so vivid, she might have reached out to touch them, if she had been able to move.

A brilliant night sky- coated in stars. Bright lights streaked across the horizon, one after another, millions of them. The trails of brilliance they left behind fell, celestial sparks raining on the forests and depths beneath them.

There- to the horizon- a voice deep within her consciousness seemed to say. Her attention shifted, to the pinks, greens, and blues that stretched over the edges of the sky. She knew what it was immediately- her people referred to it as an aurora- but this one…this one seemed different, somehow.

A visceral feeling sparked within Verona, as she watched the aurora form into a shape.

Clear as day, it condensed, pressed together, morphed- into the shape of a bird so large its wingspan coated the entirety of the sky. The celestial creature streaked across the horizon to the sky’s zenith, and a cry shook the ground. Shook all of creation. Chainbreaker, it seemed the world sang the word, no longer a mere whisper.

Something within her blood sang, resonated. It weighed down her limbs, and for a moment she felt as if she could be that bird, that avian aurora soaring across the heavens. For the first time, maybe in years, her mouth stretched into a smile.

Wait a minute. Verona blinked. Something felt off. As the vision faded, reality became clear once again. The ground underneath her was moving, and the light of day had faded. How long had she been hallucinating, or whatever the damned half-fae was doing to her?

The music stopped, and Verona came back to reality with a jolt. She was being taken somewhere- shuffled along through an alleyway. She dug her heels, again being slid across the ground.

“Stop! Stop! Where are you taking me?”

“Back to the tavern,” Corbin mumbled, tugging on her arm. “It’s not safe for you to be out alone anymore. You can stay with me- us- until we can leave the village safely.” Verona didn’t know what they were talking about, but she did realize- much to her chagrin- that she didn’t have much choice in the matter. Not with the pretty, charming half-fae maniac here.

“Will you stop?” She asked, “I’ll follow you. Just stop dragging me!” Corbin stopped walking, and, carefully watching her, let go of her arm. “But once we get back there, I expect the truth. I expect information.”

Bryonn took his place at her side with swiftness.

“I said I would go with you. I don’t need to be guarded.”

The half-fae regarded her, his mouth quirked into a half-smile.

“Perhaps you don’t believe you need help, but it’s the truth. You have no idea what’s been awakened-”

“Bryonn!” Corbin’s voice boomed, startling her . “Don’t.”

“Just let me walk.” She snapped, and sped up to open the tavern door. It slammed shut behind her- she vaguely hoped it would smack Bryonn in the face, but the bastard caught the door and stormed inside after her, tailed by a visibly-exasperated Corbin.

Well, if she was effectively being kept prisoner here, she would make the best of it. Verona maintained eye contact with Corbin as she slipped behind the bar and helped herself to a generous pour of mead. He frowned at her as she drained the glass in one swig, and immediately filled it again.

The tavern slipped into an uncomfortable silence. She hadn’t heard such heavy silence here since Amona’s death…since the night Corbin had first rescued her.

“I need the truth. I need it now, or I’m leaving.” She demanded. Corbin and Bryonn exchanged yet another glance, but said nothing.

“It’s late…or early, rather.” Bryonn said through a yawn- Verona thought it over-dramatic and rolled her eyes. “How about we all get some well-earned sleep, and then Corbin here can explain what’s going on? Hmm?”

Verona glared at the half-fae. He was lucky he was pretty.

“Fine,” She snapped.

She finished her mead, and growled at Bryonn as he snatched her empty mug from her and shook his head.

“I’m going to sleep.” She walked to the back room, gathering whatever might be needed for a makeshift bed. They followed her silently. “And stay away from me, or by Kithys I’ll kill you… or whatever you do with wayward, annoying half-fae.” Her head felt heavy, the mead certainly kicking in as attended.

Vaguely aware of the two men arranging their own sleeping areas nearby, Verona stole the fur blankets from Corbin’s secret back room, thrust herself under the pile, and closed her eyes.