Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

3. Targets and Truths

Chapter 3

Targets and Truths

E xcitement rippled through me as Eithan and I entered the training ring.

My eyes darted about as I spotted a new series of targets—it appeared the dagger wasn’t the only gift he had in store for me.

I whipped my head in his direction.

He smiled at me with his big, goofy grin. “Surprise.”

It was utter perfection. For me, target practice was an elixir of life. When I threw, the world melted away and nothing else mattered. My focus would consume me wholly, and the cool tips of the blades between my fingertips always grounded me in a profound way. It was my respite. My joy.

We made our way to the basket of equipment resting against a tree. Eithan had likely brought everything here earlier from our hiding place in a nearby cave—which was undoubtedly why he was late. Normally, we’d select one, maybe two weapons, but having all of them here for us to play with… It was going to be a long and grueling day, and I couldn’t have been more excited.

Arms splayed to the smorgasbord of weapons, Eithan said, “Pick your poison.” As I reached for my bandolier, he let out a low, teasing chuckle. “So predictable.”

“Don’t I at least get a reprieve from your mockery on my birthday?” I said, rolling my eyes.

He winked and leaned down for his own blades. “Nope. I could only afford the dagger and some new targets.”

I shoved him off balance, then secured the bandolier across my chest. We’d tried many throwing knives over the years, but the ones I was armed with were my favorites.

We’d originally started with larger blades and sized down over time to test our skills. I’d fallen in love with the sleek, black, double-edged, six-inch beauties the first time they left my hand.

Procuring weapons was no small feat in our village. We sold the pelts and meat we caught for coin, saving up for the rare times mercenaries passed through. The more discerning we became with our weapons, the longer it took to not only find but also afford them. In fact, we never managed to get our hands on a sword, settling for wooden dowels instead. Waiting never bothered us, though. We were always content with what we had, while dreaming of what we’d find next.

The training ring was a near-perfect circle, level, and had little debris. We were speechless the day we’d stumbled upon the clearing that was about thirty paces wide and lined with towering trees.

Now armed, I sheathed the new dagger in my bandolier, replacing one of my blades—which was poised to find a target. Standing in the heart of the ring, I slid my eyes shut, and settled into the sanctuary of my mind, finding the concentration and clarity that allowed time herself to slow. I breathed in the deep forest scent of pine and earthy moss and focused on the familiar sounds of the small creatures rustling in the bramble.

The cool metal of the blade warmed as the heat from my fingers transferred to it.

My eyes flew open.

I was a flash of movement, pivoting from one target to the next before the previous dagger sank in. I pulled blade after blade after blade from my bandolier. The muffled thunks of the steel striking true caressed a place deep within me every time. Stars, I’d never tire of that sound. That feeling.

Before I knew it, I was down to my new dagger. Without hesitation, I pinched it between my fingers and let it fly, the series of fifteen blades taking mere moments to release.

Slowly, I rotated, scanning. Each blade was embedded in a tree, dead center of the target.

Eithan tracked my every movement as I stepped forward. “Again,” I said, and he walked toward the trees to help me reload.

Hours passed as we moved from knives to hatchets to bows, then to hand-to-hand combat, finishing with swordplay. It was exhausting, and utterly fulfilling.

Our sweat-slicked bodies slumped next to each other, spent, as we drew in labored breaths. We’d long since stripped off our shirts, the hot spring day making our layers unbearable.

Still breathless, Eithan grunted as he heaved himself up and offered me a hand. Wordlessly, I accepted his help, making him do the bulk of the work as he pulled me up.

“Lake?” The monosyllabic question was all I could muster. Eithan didn’t bother to answer as he moved toward our belongings.

Neither of us put our layers back on as the lake was only ten minutes off, and we’d always worn just our undergarments in—and sometimes not even that.

A short walk later, my foot hovered over the glacier-fed lake, and I braced myself for the jolting shock that awaited me. Only, it didn’t. In fact, my body delighted at the stark contrast. I hadn’t realized how much I’d overheated throughout the day and didn’t hesitate to wade in, Eithan following.

I paused as the freezing water hit my lower abdomen. Eithan gasped sharply and rose to his tiptoes while his body adjusted. Laughing at him, I put my arms up in defense as he lazily splashed water at me .

Once we’d adjusted to being waist deep, we paused, delaying the inevitable.

“On three?” he asked.

I clenched my fists and nodded.

“One…two…three!” We both took the plunge.

I went from fully submerged to gasping for air in what felt like a blink as my lungs hitched from the shock. For me, it was always the surprise, more than the cold itself, that caught me off guard. Instantly invigorated, I lingered in the lake for a few moments before getting out.

The tiny shoreline pebbles darkened beneath our feet from the water pouring off us. I wrung out my hair and accepted the towel Eithan held out to me.

Mercifully, the sun was still high enough to ease the freezing bite of the glacier-fed water, and a soft heat radiated from the rocky beach, warming my toes as we made our way onto the blanket that was invitingly warm from sitting out.

We lay down, and Eithan pulled the edges over, cocooning us in. Comfortably ensconced, sleep found me shortly after we’d settled in.

The cool air from the shadowing mountains dragged me from my slumber. I found myself nuzzled in the crook of Eithan’s shoulder with his arms wrapped around me, the blanket still tightly drawn around us.

I glanced up at him. His eyes, filled with brightness and thought, suggested he’d been awake for a while already. They traveled back from afar, and he focused on me before he drew me in and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“Welcome back, sleepyhead.” The heat from the whispered words caressed my skin. I put a hand on his chest and tucked in a little closer, wanting to freeze this moment and cherish his safe embrace.

After a time, hunger overrode my need for Eithan’s comfort. I stretched long and loud as I begrudgingly readied myself to get out of our delightful cocoon .

“Shall we make dinner?” I asked as I pulled away, but Eithan’s grip tightened, holding me in place. “What is it?”

He was staring into the distance again. It was more often me who would get lost in contemplations, not Eithan, and I gave him time to collect his thoughts.

When he finally spoke, the initial words were gravelly and raw. “Promise me you won’t stay in this place, Ny.” His golden-brown eyes locked onto mine, and there was a fierce intensity in them I’d never seen, giving me pause. Feeling exposed, I reached past him to gather my clothes and slid back into them. He did the same.

As I took him in, I realized I’d never witnessed him being somber before.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“There’s no love for you here when I leave.”

“I have Mrs. E,” I said, half truth, half jest.

His serious expression was at such odds with the jovial soul I knew him to be but they paired well with his strong features. He wouldn’t let me deflect my way out of this conversation.

I kept silent, and his frown lines deepened. They’d become more permanent over this past month. He took a deep breath, and some softness returned to him.

“Ny, you’re kind and good and loving.”

I pulled within myself, as if shielding from the compliments.

“Your family…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Your family, Ny, is a black hole that will consume your love and kindness until they’ve stripped you of all reserves, leaving you a shell of who you are.”

His words rang true, unlocking a piece of sadness I usually held at bay, and an ache seeped into my chest.

“Since we’ve met, I’ve filled that reserve for you. And yes, Mrs. Erikson helps too, but when I’m gone…” He shook his head and started again. “The girl I met in the woods all those years ago—she was shielded, snide, and heavily guarded. I almost refused to train you because I thought you already wielded too many weapons. That li ttle girl didn’t know how to throw her head back and laugh, or notice the beauty surrounding her. She was a shell, Ny. You had become a shell. If I’m honest, I’d always believed your obsession with Mrs. Erikson’s lessons wasn’t because of an insatiable curiosity. I think you saw knowledge as a tool, a weapon, to deflect and parry and shield yourself with humor and witticisms—not consciously, but still…”

I waited for him to continue, but he simply observed me, allowing his words to steep. Black hole, shielded, snide, guarded . Was he right? I journeyed back to when we’d first met, turning over memories, looking at them through the lens of this unvarnished truth. I dug deeper, hunting for a time when I’d laughed with my family. Never. Maybe a placating chuckle from time to time, but never an unabashed free cackle from deep in my belly—the kind of laughter Eithan knew I was capable of.

That ache in my heart grew stronger, and I tried to ignore it as I sorted through my thoughts, grasping for a response.

“You promised me you would be okay, Ny, and those words haven’t sat right with me. You can’t keep that promise and stay here. Yes, you can endure it, but that’s not good enough.”

As a chameleon who transformed into what I needed to survive, I’d never let myself dream of a different life, or asked my family for more. That was what he feared for me. He liked, perhaps loved, the woman I’d become, and he didn’t want me to fade into the background.

“I don’t have dreams and ambitions like you, Eithan,” I said.

“There’s a difference between not having dreams and never letting yourself dream.”

“It’s just easier this way.”

“No, it’s comfortable, not easy. There’s a difference.”

Damn, he was right, and in that moment, a seedling of hope tried to plant itself inside me. I pushed it away, uncomfortable with its existence.

Shaking my head, I said, “I can’t promise I’ll leave. ”

He stared at me for a long moment. “What can you promise me, then?” he said softly, as if approaching a fawn.

What could I promise? My mind teemed with myriad thoughts, each swiftly dismissed until one resonated as a truth I could uphold.

“I’ll strive to envision a future for myself.”

“One full of happiness?” he pressed, brow arched.

I exhaled a resigned breath. “Fine. I promise I will try to envision a better future for myself.”

“Good, but I need you to do more than try, and I want you to add that you’ll leave this place if you can.”

I gripped the blanket beneath me—this conversation was more taxing to me than training had been.

“Fine,” I said.

He cocked his head, letting me know that fine wasn’t good enough.

“Okay, I promise. Good enough?”

With a soft smile, he drew me closer and squeezed me tight. “Yes. Thank you, Ny.”

After dinner, we made our way back down, talking about nothing and everything as we slipped back into the ease we often found in each other’s company. We took our time, enjoying every moment, every joke, every laugh, not getting back to my family’s cabin until well after nightfall—which I was perfectly fine with. Hugging Eithan good night, he offered me a boost up, and I accepted, crawling back through the window.