Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

48. A New Baseline

Chapter 48

A New Baseline

T arrin trembled beneath me, but his grip didn’t falter as he held me tight. A coughing fit forced me to roll out of his comforting embrace onto the rocky beach, the purples and greens and blues of the pebbles now splattered with red as my lungs violently cleared themselves.

Tarrin peeled himself off the ground and knelt next to me, caressing my back as the bout of coughing settled. Looking up at him, I could tell he wanted to ask me if I was okay but thought better of it. We both knew neither of us were.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, standing.

In my mind, I followed suit, but quickly realized my body would not, could not, oblige. “I can’t stand, Tarrin.” The admission broke something in him, and devastated, he broke his mask.

He didn’t hesitate before scooping me into his arms, and for the first time since I’d known him, the effort seemed labored. Witnessing his strength waver unsettled me, and I wondered about the true extent of my own injuries if what’d happened to Tarrin had left him in a weakened state.

Completely at his mercy, my head bobbed slightly as he walked. The memory of Thaddeus carrying me to the weeping willow tugged at me, and I was too tired to will it away. Turning my head, I found that Tarrin was walking us toward the frigid lake.

He stopped a few paces away, hesitating.

I shifted my gaze to him. “What’s wrong?”

His face wrinkled, the look almost humorous.

“Tarrin?”

“Umm…” He chewed on the word. “Normally, I have no problem wading into this lake, but we’re shy on sunlight, without horses, and in no shape to go anywhere—meaning we’re going to have to camp here tonight.” His tone pulled amusement from me for some reason.

“And…?” I drawled.

“I… You…” He blushed.

“Out with it, Tarrin.”

“I don’t think we should go in fully clothed,” he finally mustered, the words hurried like he was ripping off a bandage.

I tilted my head back and laughed in earnest, my soul soaking up the levity. But my body stopped it short, and I winced, amusement abandoning me.

“You’re right,” I said. “It would be stupid to go in clothed.” I’d spent enough time in the wild to know the implications of such a decision, summertime or no. Besides, snow still hung to the mountaintops here, meaning the evening air would be biting.

“Okay, then. Put me down,” I said, and Tarrin gently released me to the rocky ground just beyond the water’s reach.

Even sitting took more out of me than I’d expected, and I toppled over as I moved to pull off my shirt, Tarrin’s firm hands stopping me from taking a face full of rocks.

I let out a resolved sigh, knowing there was no way around it. “I need your help,” I admitted, finding his gaze.

“Undressing you?”

“No, hiking that mountain,” I quipped, nodding to the highest peak.

His full lips pulled into a narrow line .

“Tarrin, you’ve seen me naked before. I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“It’s improper for us to be alone, for me to help, you for…”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Stars, you guys really show your age sometimes.”

He scowled but relented.

As my adrenaline wore off, every small movement stabbed me. Gently, as if Tarrin were stroking the tip of a butterfly’s wing, he unzipped my top and helped pull it off. My breath caught at the brief pain before I silently thanked the stars that I was wearing undergarments today—Thaddeus had learned firsthand it wasn’t always my preference.

Tarrin took my top and laid it on a large boulder behind him, then turned back.

“Gods, Nyleeria,” he said as he took me in.

I glanced down to find deep-purple bruising splattered across my torso.

“It still looks better than I feel,” I said dryly.

Tarrin shook his head and let out a long, deep sigh—although he couldn’t help but smirk. It was the most Tarrin thing I’d seen from him in a while, and somehow it settled something within me, like the initial comforting touch of a salve.

With my mobility impaired, freeing me of my skirt was an awkward endeavor at best, and it didn’t help that Tarrin blushed fiercely at the sight of my legs, then whipped his head to the side, averting his gaze.

Turning back to the boulder, Tarrin lifted my shirt and laid my skirt down on the rock, then carefully placed my shirt back on top. My heart softened at the kind consideration he’d shown, not just now but in general. He proceeded to undress himself, then rolled his clothes in a haphazard ball and tossed them in a pile to the side. I quirked my head to the side, wondering what logic had just gone through his mind. Male logic, most likely. I shook my head and smiled .

He was more careful with his weapons, leaning his daggers against the large rock. Thank the stars he was armed. The blades would come in handy in procuring food and making a fire.

Although I was exhausted and beaten down, I could appreciate Tarrin’s figure, thicker than his counterparts and well-proportioned.

Now in just his undergarments, he faced me, and something like shame stared back at me as his hands covered his privates, even though he wasn’t fully naked.

Tarrin cast his glance down to the pebbles as he said, “I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean anything. I can’t help it. You’re very attractive… I’m a man, and…” It took me a few heartbeats to realize what he was apologizing for—helping me undress had aroused him.

I resisted the urge to laugh and had to swallow the cackle that wanted to come loose, knowing it would’ve hurt both of us.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “The water will take care of it for you.”

He shook his head in amusement, both of us knowing all too well the effect freezing water had on a man.

Tarrin continued to cup himself with both hands as he awkwardly half waddled, half shuffled toward me. There wasn’t even a phantom of the swagger I’d grown accustomed to, and it made him look vulnerable in a way I hadn’t thought possible.

Removing his hands to lift me, I averted my gaze, making sure to look up at him out of respect, knowing this wasn’t easy for him.

The evidence of his arousal did, in fact, dissipate as the water deepened. I noticed then that he was perfectly clean and didn’t need to wash himself in the frigid, crystal-clear water. He was doing it for me.

Tarrin eased his grip, holding me tenderly with one hand as he washed away the blood that stained me with the other. I watched him as he tended to me. His sturdy chestnut brows were knit in concentration, nothing but pure determination in his earnest teak eyes. His face didn’t have the sharp angles that typically made a man attractive, but his rough-hewn features were the perfect complement to his imposing stature, making him handsome in his own right.

He moved from my face to my neck, down to my chest, and then my arms and hands, having to repeat the process several times to wash the crimson away.

Once the water came away clear, he loosed my braid, letting my hair float free. With one arm beneath my bent knees, and the other bracing my upper back, Tarrin lowered me slightly, allowing the water to hold more of my weight. I tilted my head back, letting the crisp coolness of the lake tickle my scalp.

Tarrin gently twisted in the water like he was cradling an infant, the motion mimicking a slow-moving river—and in that moment, it was everything.

My eyes slid shut, and I relaxed fully into what he and the Mother offered.

Shortly after, Tarrin placed me on the ground farther from the shore, where the rocky beach relented to the soft grass, then turned to the boulder to retrieve our clothing.

“May I?” he asked as he held out the skirt. I wasn’t sure what he was asking but nodded anyway.

He laid my skirt out in the direction of the fleeting sun like a blanket and picked me up before lowering me down on top of it. The heat seeped into my skin as Tarrin slipped on his trousers, then bunched our remaining garments together.

“Here,” he said, lifting my head and placing the ball of fabric underneath. I looked at him with gratitude and offered a weak smile, and a sad one of his own met me.

Turning away, the pebbles shifted as his footfalls traveled away from me toward the lake. Too weak to lift my head enough to see where he was going, I looked up into the cloud-speckled sky, feeling numb. Merely existing.

A few minutes later, he held out a sheath, and lowered himself down to me. “Here,” he said and helped me up. I raised a brow at him; a wet sheath was a bad idea for the blade .

As if reading my thoughts, he said, “The blade will keep, and it’s all I have. Drink.”

I did.

“Get some rest. I’ll get us some food and build a fire. Here’s one of my daggers just in case, although I don’t think you’ll?—”

“Be able to use it,” I finished for him.

“Yes.” The word wasn’t a judgment but an assessing fact. “Get some rest,” he said again, and I let my body submit to the exhaustion and pain I’d been fighting back.

The smell of campfire and roasting rabbit pulled me from my slumber. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, but the sun had tucked itself behind the mountains and nightfall was imminent.

I rolled over onto my side and watched Tarrin tend the fire. I had to squint to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Around the campfire were two objects that looked like chairs. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that Tarrin had made seating for us out of rocks. Two boulders each, one to sit on, and a long, curved rock that acted as a backrest. Stars, I guessed certain comforts aren’t negotiable once you hit a certain age. I would have been okay with sitting on the rocky beach like I had many times before. I went to get up, but my body writhed in pain. Gasping, I fell back down. Maybe I was wrong—a chair seemed like an excellent idea—if I could ever get up.

Tarrin’s head shot up when a groan left me as I attempted to roll onto my stomach and lift myself up. He was at my side in a few strides.

His hand cradled my head as he helped me sit up. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said, then untangled my shirt from his and slipped it over my head.

I tried again to get up again.

“Not today, Ny. Let your body rest. Maybe tomorrow.” He pulled his own shirt on, swept me up without a second thought, and walked us toward the fire. As we approached, the firelight caught his features, and I felt a pang at the moroseness that had chased away his welcomed levity .

I adjusted myself in the stone seat, and I was pleasantly surprised to find it both warm and comfortable. It was even angled back perfectly. I let my body mold to it.

He took one of the rabbits off the fire and placed it on what looked like the inside surface of aged tree bark. It was a clever use of the discarded piece.

Handing it to me, he said, “Sorry, there’s no cutlery.”

I snorted. “Tarrin, you saw where I came from. Do you really think I’ve never eaten with my hands before?”

“No,” he said, his voice solemn. “I just think you deserve better.”

His words sobered me, and I couldn’t think of a response. Stars, Tarrin had witnessed a tiny fragment of my past life, and yet his words uncannily echoed Eithan’s.

I looked down at the makeshift plate now resting on my lap. Not only was there a healthy serving of rabbit, but a piece of fish and a small salad adorned it. I shook my head. Only Tarrin would find a way to offer up a full meal in the middle of nowhere.

“This looks amazing, Tarrin. Thank you.”

He gave me a wry smile. “You should taste it before you thank me.”

I chuckled; it was such a Tarrin answer.

Taking a tentative bite, surprise washed over me as the deep, rich flavors swam across my taste buds. “You found rosemary and sage?” I asked in disbelief.

An arrogant smile tugged at his mouth. “I did.”

“It’s delicious, Tarrin, thank you. Thank you for everything.”

A shadow fell over him, chasing away the humor, but he stayed quiet as he placed the other rabbit on a similar bark plank and sat down on the chair adjacent to me.

Eating was slow, my protesting from the slightest movement, but every satisfying bite that staved off the hunger was worth it.

“Hey!” I said, realizing something.

Wary amusement danced across Tarrin’s face. “What?”

“At least I didn’t vomit this time…so that’s a win. ”

He broke into laughter, almost choking on his food. “I think we need to work on your definition of a win .” His words mirrored the same sentiment he’d made when I’d shattered the windows.

“But…I didn’t vomit or pass out. And I’m able to eat. I’d say that means I got out of this relatively unscathed.”

“Is this how you cope with your life?” His tone was serious. “You need a better baseline, Ny.”

“Well, I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Do you?”

“No. But, you bleeding from the nose, coughing up blood, being unable to move on your own, and looking like you were someone’s punching bag—that can’t be okay.”

I looked down at my hands. “I know.”

“What did he say?” Tarrin asked, his tone cold, but not toward me.

“What do you mean?”

“When you threw your body on top of me, you knew what was coming. What was his command? What spell did he cast?” I looked at him, about to feign ignorance. “I know you heard it, and the look on your face…you were ready to die. Please, Ny, what did he say?”

I didn’t know what the word Thaddeus had said meant, but I had felt the malice in the power that had prowled toward us. I swallowed. “ Estania ,” I repeated, and another bolt of pain ripped through my body, pulling a scream from me.

Tarrin was there instantly, stopping me from falling into the fire.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.

Breathless, I managed to say, “Agreed.”

My body calmed and Tarrin sat back down. Once I caught my breath, I asked, “What does it mean?”

His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare down the fire. “Directly translated, it means be gone . As a spell”—he breathed in deeply—“it calls for the soul to be ripped from the body, cleaved apart, as to be taken from this life.” His voice didn’t betray his emotions .

I was too wrung out to feel the shock I knew should have hit me.

“How did you stop it?” There had been silence between us for so long that his words startled me.

“I didn’t—or, not intentionally, anyway.” My thoughts traveled back to that moment in the dome.

“I don’t think I can be hurt by my own power,” I said, and Tarrin’s eyes widened. “Yes, Thadde—” I choked on the word—his name—fear rushing through me. Tarrin marked it, his eyes dimming at what I’d revealed. I tried again. “It was someone else’s spell, but it was my power. Like he tried to use lightning to electrocute the clouds; it’s not possible.”

As an afterthought, I added, “You stopped him, you know. He was about to take every drop of my power and force it to bend to him. He knew it too. His blind fury toward you… I’ve never felt anything like that.”

He looked at me more intently then. “You could hear his thoughts—his actual thoughts?”

“Hear, feel, and see, yes. I’m not in control of myself when he taps into me, and it’s almost like the power flowing between us leaks the information back to me somehow.” I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories, but they wouldn’t stop, terror kicking in at random intervals.

“How did we end up here, at the lake?” He asked with curiosity and perhaps even awe.

“Honestly, Tarrin, I have no idea. I’m not even sure how we’re alive right now.”

He heaved a sigh, then reached over and handed me the water-filled sheath. I greedily drank down its contents.

“Tarrin?” My voice was more vulnerable than I’d ever heard it before. “What do we do now?” I asked.

He closed his eyes and his head made a soft thud against his backrest as he tilted his face toward the stars. “I don’t know.”

That raw truth settled in me. I knew then that I did have a new baseline, as he’d recommended, but the bar had been lowered. Should it slip down further, it would be nearly impossible to bend to its demands without breaking.