The Archer & the Flame (Whispers of the Night Ravens #1)

Chapter 14

Silas let out a string of curses that would’ve made Sal blush, as unflappable as she was, as he scoured the area for viable firewood. It was usually a straightforward procedure. He’d come a long way since his debacle with the damp wood, developing a knack for finding good kindling that would keep our fire lit through the night. Stones scattered as he kicked at the ground, crouching down to examine it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, pausing my task of setting up our bedrolls. Were they always positioned so close together, Silas sleeping within arm’s reach? I adjusted them several times over, second-guessing myself. What if he questioned it on his return, dragging them further apart? I repositioned them a final time before deciding it would suffice.

“It’s the wood here,” he said in a frustrated tone. “The twigs are crumbling in my hands and the trees aren’t much better. They’re brittle and will make terrible firewood. I’m afraid if we want to keep a fire going, we’ll need to take shifts to tend to it.”

From the limited scenery that the flaming sphere exposed, I could see he was right. Vegetation was sparse, and what little there was looked stunted and wrong. I’d be surprised to find anything to hunt here. We’d been lucky to discover a lone raglaw soaring over the hills as we left the grasslands, Silas securing his first kill, and our dinner, but it wouldn’t last us long.

“Can’t we make do with your ball of fire instead?” Enough heat was emanating from it to take the bite out of the cold night air, even with him several paces away.

“While I’m awake, sure. But it requires concentration to maintain its form. As soon as I fall asleep, it will disappear, and we’ll be left with no campfire.”

That wasn’t wise, not when we were both unfamiliar with our surroundings and what could be out there. The rocky landscape could be hiding all manner of threats, the unassuming quiet no guarantee that we were alone.

“Fine, I’ll take first watch.” It would be difficult to sleep after the events of the day. I may as well use that time productively. “Build what you can, but we’ll save the wood until we settle down to sleep.” I retrieved the raglaw from my burlap sack, plucking its feathers. “If I spear an arrow through it, can you cook it without burning my fingers?”

Footsteps echoing on the rocky ground signalled his return to our camp, the sphere floating in front of him. “You should know by now that the answer is usually yes when it comes to my Blessing.”

His confidence wasn’t unfounded, the magic searing the skewered bird without so much as brushing my hand. I handed Silas his portion, taking care not to burn myself in the process.

I tore into a raglaw leg, the salty meat coating my lips with grease as I ate, growing concerned about our future meals. Our packs were stuffed with berries from the grasslands, but I didn’t hold out hope that Threstia would offer us anything else. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to ignore the ache of hunger on a mission. There had been several occasions where I’d had to ask for second helpings of dinner on my return to the Old Keep. But I would need my mind to be as sharp as possible to uncover the researchers, and the distraction of an empty stomach wouldn’t help in that regard.

I picked the bone clean, savouring every bite, noticing Silas doing the same.

“You still owe me an explanation of the inner workings of the Isle of Mist,” I said between mouthfuls.

“I haven’t finished my dinner yet. You’re so demanding sometimes.” I cocked my head at him, Silas staring me down before eventually relenting. “You’re familiar with the lords and ladies of Idrix?”

“The five ruling seats.” Drei and Hightower across the Sapphire Sea, Tirrim and Eirel to the north and Gladhaven to the south, with neutral territory in between.

“Exactly. But their power isn’t absolute. Everything is a careful negotiation, requiring a delicate balancing act to govern the realm. There’s their High Council who advises them on their decisions, the other members of the nobility, particularly the bloodline heirs, who they maintain alliances with, and then, of course, the common fae, those without title who reside within their lands. Each group must be satisfied if the ruler wants to keep their seat. The High Council is a valuable resource when they’re on your side or can be your worst adversary, blocking your every decision if you lose their favour. The nobility’s allegiance is key. Without it, a ruler can be challenged or usurped by a rival. And the common fae are often underestimated, but they have more power than it appears. When they lose faith in their leader, everything grinds to a halt. Before you know it, the pitchforks will be at your door.”

“So, to change things, you must convince all three,” I summarised.

“Indeed. That’s where the complexity lies. Agreements are meticulously negotiated over decades, sometimes centuries. And the established nobility, especially the council, despise change. They like everything as it is, within their control. The advisors, so they can keep their lucrative positions and the influence it affords them, and the nobility so they can plan their moves and feed their selfish ambition.”

“Is the Circle of the Enlightened involved too?” The mysterious vessels of the gods never left the White Temple.

“Their authority is unquestioned. The rulers will always defer to the gods if they make their judgement known. But it’s never happened. The Enlightened don’t interfere outside the Amber City, and in return, the rulers treat the capital with the reverence it commands, an independent district.”

“And where do you fall within this?”

“I want reform as much as you do. I’ve long believed the system holds us back from our true potential. What I’ve witnessed on this journey has only confirmed that. But despite my position, I lack the support to drive through any meaningful change.”

That caught me by surprise. “But you’re…you know.” I trailed off.

Silas trapped me with his gaze. “I’m what? Please elaborate.”

He was going to make me say it. “You’re charming and eloquent. I don’t understand how you can lack support. Surely the lord listens to you?”

“Reputations are shaped over years. My brother was always the serious one. I had a penchant for mischief and fun and took it too far as a foolish youth. It’s likely the nobility will never take me seriously.” He blinked several times. “Sorry, this must be terribly boring.”

“Not at all. It’s refreshing to see this side of you. And for the record, anyone who doesn’t support you needs their head checked. If more fae like you were in positions of power, maybe no one else would have to go through what I did.”

He didn’t respond, sitting quietly in deep thought.

“Silas?” I said.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m going to light the campfire and then retire for the evening. Wake me when you need me to take over.”

“I…” His abrupt change of mood left me stunned. I studied him as he moved to his bedroll, draping his blanket around himself. He looked drained, like the day had caught up with him too. I supposed that was understandable. “Of course.”

He fell asleep quickly, his back towards me. I watched him for a while, wondering if I’d pushed him too far. At some point, he rolled onto his side, his brow furrowed as he rested his head on one arm. Only when my eyes grew too heavy to ignore did I wake him, Silas unusually subdued at the interruption to his rest, conjuring a new flame in silence.

I managed to steal a few hours of sleep, helped by the comforting warmth radiating from the sphere. When I stirred, gently woken by the morning sun, he hadn’t moved, watching the flames dance with that same frown on his face.

His sullen mood persisted while we packed up our camp. That wouldn’t do. It didn’t feel right to travel without his cheery optimism.

“I believe it’s time,” I said as formally as I could muster.

“Time for what exactly?” Silas asked. He feigned disinterest, adjusting his cloak around his shoulders, but his tone betrayed his curiosity.

“For you to officially become the navigator of our quest.” I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You’ve proven yourself more than capable, and it would free up my attention to monitor our surroundings.” It wasn’t my key motivation, but I was happy to let him think that. I handed him the map, his fingers gently closing around the fragile parchment.

“I don’t know where I’m taking us,” he said.

“That’s easily resolved. Deeper into Threstia. We need to find a way to cross the Threstian Gap.”

He studied the frayed parchment, tilting it in his arms to find a good angle. “Cross the gap? But nothing’s marked on here.”

“Exactly. Threstia is rarely visited. Any maps are likely to be inaccurate. But that doesn’t mean you can’t use logic to determine the most likely place for a bridge.” Deduction was an essential skill for a scout. Information could be hidden away anywhere, requiring careful thought to uncover.

He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful, just when I’m in the mood for a lecture.”

“Silas,” I warned.

“Fine, I’ll try.” I tried not to laugh as he held the map right up to his eye, examining it intensely. “It’s just rock. All of it.”

“Go on,” I prompted.

He went back and forth between the map and the view ahead of us, his face screwed up in concentration. “No one would come here unless they had a specific purpose, and convenience wouldn’t be necessary without an established settlement. So it would make sense to build bridges where you could monitor them.” He rolled up the parchment, tucking it into his pocket. “They’d be positioned to the north or south, sheltered by the mountains.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” I said. Silas caught my eye, smiling proudly, and I held his gaze longer than I’d intended.

I cleared my throat. “So, which way should we go from here?”

“South. I’ve had my fill of the north.”

Whilst his reasoning had been flawless, it hadn’t factored in our string of bad luck. Our progress was soon halted by a wall of stone blocking the path. Fragments of dark rock, some as large as a carriage, had broken away from the hillside, piling on the ground. The resulting obstruction was an unstable peak, impossible to pass.

“Damn it. Rockslide. We’ll have to find another way.” I kicked a stone in frustration, watching it skitter across the hard surface. We were so close.

Silas, to my frustration, decided it was time for his sunny demeanour to reemerge. “You know, when I experience a setback, I tell myself I need to dust myself off and try again. Let’s take a deep breath and stay positive,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He picked up a small rock from the pile, tossing it in the air and catching it one-handed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I made no effort to hide my glare. “I’m debating what would shut you up the quickest, strangling you or lodging an arrow in your heart.”

“I love it when you flirt with me.” He winked.

“You and I have different definitions of flirting. If one of us is, it’s you.”

“You think I’ve been flirting with you?” Silas’ face crinkled in genuine confusion. He hadn’t been. My face burned. I wished the ground would swallow me like the pit in the dark forest to spare me from the humiliation.

I was under no illusion that it was harmless fun, born out of enjoyment, not intent, but with the surprise on Silas’ face I’d been mistaken in that too. After years of distrusting strangers, I was out of practice, and evidently, out of my depth.

He stalked towards me and his voice dropped low. “If I was flirting with you, you’d know about it.”

He moved closer, until there was only a hair’s breadth between us, lowering his head towards mine.

I froze. Was he... was he going to kiss me?

I was no stranger to kissing, but since Ithan I’d avoided it, afraid to make myself vulnerable again. Sex was like scratching an itch, something that didn’t require putting my heart on the line. There had been the odd encounter on my missions, stolen moments of pleasure in taverns and city lodgings, though none where I’d stayed until the morning.

But kissing was different, more intimate somehow. My gaze fell to Silas’ soft, full lips, my chin tilted upwards in anticipation. What would it feel like to kiss him?

Would he tease me first, trailing sensual kisses along my neck, coaxing sighs from my lips before confidently capturing my mouth with his? Or would his enthusiasm be infectious, devouring me with an intensity that stole my breath? Or maybe it would be neither and his eyes would darken, his fingers knotting in my hair as his kiss claimed me, fierce and demanding.

Suddenly, I felt hot all over.

However, Silas didn’t satisfy my curiosity. His breath brushed the soft skin of my ear, tickling me as he spoke. “If I was trying to seduce you, I’d say something like when I earn one of your rare smiles, it makes me feel like I can take on the world. Or how when you made those nobles kneel at your feet, resplendent in your vengeance, I was struck with the urge to do the same. Or perhaps that when I catch a glimpse of the real you, the one that’s hiding beneath those thick walls of yours, I want to grab hold of that moment and make it last forever.” His mouth curved into a slow, deliberate smirk, as if he knew the power his words held over me. “Something like that.”

I forgot how to breathe. Silas wasn’t playing fair. Those weren’t shallow compliments, easily spouted without thought. No, he’d seen me, seen right into the core of my being, and hadn’t flinched. He backed away, never taking his eyes off me.

“That would be adequate, I suppose,” I said, when I was capable of speaking.

“Are you blushing?” Silas asked, holding back a smug laugh.

“What do you think?” I raised a hand to my cheek, mortified to find the skin warm.

“That my words affect you more than you let on.” The full force of his charm ambushed me. His eyes twinkled in mischief, made more devastating by the dimples that played at the corner of his mouth, and his hair fell across his face in a way that made me itch to run my fingers through it.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I wasn’t going to let him tie me in knots like a love-struck fool. Our growing trust didn’t mean I’d lost all sense. “You have a high opinion of yourself.”

“It’s earned, I assure you.” He strutted away, checking I was watching him.

“Where are you going?” I shouted after him.

“Finding a way around the rockslide. Come on, keep up.”

Sensing I would regret making him our navigator, I trailed after him.