Empress of the Gods

Atarah

The next day, they arrived at one of the inns in a small town in the Egorah lands. A village that was part of the city of creatures that you could differentiate from a driadae, witch, or mortal with slightly pointed ears. Although they seemed to be immortal—they were not, they only aged differently from others and their beauty was similar to the driadae, only that it didn’t charm in the same way. Some of them used to have magic, and others didn’t. They were so similar to driadaes that sometimes she wondered if one species descended from the other and if it did, which one had come first.

Egorah had silently expanded its territory while the attention of the other kingdoms was somewhere else. What were the chances of other kingdoms knowing about a small village if they were just finding out about Khrysaor? She doubted the northern island would let them take it away because it was theirs before someone else’s. In the end, it seemed those in Lhrastsha were the ones who controlled the southern kingdom. After all, the Witches in the northern islands were the ones who made the decisions instead of taking them together with the ones who ruled the south, as they made others believe.

The atmosphere felt strange, and even though everyone was in their business, they kept turning their gaze towards the hooded person who was sitting in the corner of the tavern. Humans and fae were in that tavern, but it was obvious they tried to stay away from each other.

She was grateful they didn’t attract attention in any way, although some of them glanced at William a couple of times.

“One room,” he requested to the barman of the tavern, who handed him a key.

“Two,” Atarah corrected. The barman turned to see William with an angry face.

William shook his head. “One is fine,” he said to the barman, who immediately retreated to the other side of the bar to fetch drinks for others. Atarah glared at William, waiting for an explanation, and when she didn’t hear it, she folded her arms.

“You are delusional if you think we’re going to share a bed. I’m not going to sleep in the same room with you,” she whispered.

“Don’t flatter yourself, my dear. We can’t spend everything we have if we want to survive, but if you don’t want, I think there’s a comfortable chair in the back,” he suggested, pointing to one of the tables in the back. Atarah grimaced and walked past him with a smile on her face, trying to show that it hadn’t affected her. She hated to admit William was right about it and that she didn’t give it a thought.

They climb the stairs of the tavern in silence, searching for the room that indicated the number from the wooden keychain, along the eternal hallway.

She was feeling more tired than she had felt in the past few days.

As soon as they opened the door, they stared at the room in front of them. There was a single bed near a window and two armchairs in front of the fireplace.

“I’ll bring us something to eat.” William pulled her out of her thoughts.

“First, you tell me to sleep in a chair and then you offer to bring me food. Is everything alright, Will?” Atarah sarcastically asked. She really liked to tempt her luck. “Or is this a strange way to court me? Because I’m getting mixed signals, darling.”

He moved his head to the side, looking elsewhere as he bit his lip. “If I was trying to court you, you would know, darling.” He imitated the same tone she used. “You can fetch your own food whenever you want or starve. Your choice,” he replied, leaving her in the room before she could say anything else.

“Asshole,” she whispered with the door closed. Sometimes she didn’t understand why she wanted to fight with him.

She started to think about what he said. She had to do something to continue the journey. William’s golden doubloons and what she had were not enough, and the only thing she could think of was to be a healer. After all, she knew the herbs that healed wounds. Otherwise, William might take another job as a hunter, which made her feel uncomfortable. They needed to think about something before they ran out of coins.

The only light in the room came from a few candles. All that was in the chimney were a few logs. Atarah approached the fireplace, touching those pieces of wood so she could light the fire with her own hands. She felt the power that dwelled inside her, but it didn’t seem to respond as if it had disappeared again. She took a log and slammed it to the floor in desperation, leaving the mark of her hand from which smoke started to come out. She threw it with the others, and the fire began to flare, letting her hear the snap of the wood while the raindrops gently hit the window. If she hadn’t been in her current situation, she would have enjoyed those sounds, but the only thing she needed in that moment was to feel the warmth. She hugged her knees with her arms, resting the back of her head on the seat of the armchair behind her, roaming her gaze along the ceiling. The soft fabric of the carpet on the wooden floor helped her to not feel cold on her legs.

She knew she wasn’t responsible for what happened in Khrysaor, yet she still felt it. She felt responsible for taking away her sister’s life because Myrah was the one who had friends, a job, and a family in Khrysaor. She wouldn’t blame her if she hated her for it.

She remembered the few moments they smiled with the coven. She remembered each one of their faces.

Atarah received what she always wanted, which was to leave Khrysaor. The only difference was that it wasn’t on her own terms.

She couldn’t fall apart because if she did, she wouldn’t come out of that darkness that surrounded her. Once she started crying, she wouldn’t be able to stop or move. Everything seemed to crumble. She believed that, perhaps, that was the reason she hadn’t shed a single tear when they left the Eirian Forest.

Atarah wasn’t uncomfortable sleeping in the grass, but she was grateful to be in that inn after sleeping in the open for a few days. She sat on one of the armchairs in the room near the fire, with a blanket on her knees, when William entered the room with a tray of food. She behaved like an idiot with him, and he brought her food anyways. She didn’t deserve that kindness.

“The soup is not bad at all,” William said to break the ice. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Atarah dared to think perhaps it was a peace offering between the two of them. She hadn’t realized she was hungry until the smell of spices that filled her nose made her stomach growl. She walked to the wooden tray and took the bowl, and as soon as she put the spoon in her mouth, she tasted the salty flavor of the broth. It was hot enough that it made her appreciate it even more because the heat of the food helped her warm enough her chest. As soon as she took the first bite of the toasted loaf, she couldn’t help but make a strange sound that made a corner of William’s mouth lift. She didn’t care that he was staring at her while she ate. She was hungry, and the food tasted delicious, or at least, the lack of food in her belly made her think that way. It was the only decent meal they’d had in days. So, it felt so good to have more than just apples filling her stomach.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad,” William commented as he sat on the armchair and watched her devour the bowl of soup.

The cheese reeked, but it tasted so good with the loaf and the sweetness of the grapes. She took the cup from which steam came out and she had never been so grateful to have a chamomile tea in her hands. She even thought she would give anything, even her soul, to have some milk and a spoon of honey, but having something to warm her was enough.

“Thank you,” she said as soon as she sat down on the armchair closer to the window.

Atarah couldn’t help to look at William, who was peeking at the door from time to time with a blade close to him but far enough from her reach. She could see how the fire lit his features on one side of his face and couldn’t help to think how attractive he was. If they weren’t in their current situation, she’d take him to her bed. His rebellious curls were tied in a small bun, and he had a long beard. He was a brawny man, and his arms were marked on his clothes. Atarah tried not to think about him in any way, but she was not blind.

She hadn’t returned his knife, but he didn’t ask for it either.

“I know you don’t trust me outside of the bond,” he said, moving in his seat as she took another sip of her tea. “But if we keep fighting, it’s going to take us longer to find your sister. And ultimately, to get to Euthoria. Tell me what I need to do to earn your trust?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds as if you can’t wait to get rid of me,” she said before she took another sip of her tea. “Are you that desperate or is there someone waiting for you that you cannot wait to see?” she teased, trying not to think of his answer.

“Either way, that’s none of your business,” he told her in the same tone she used, but with a faint smile. He leaned forward, waiting patiently for her answer, and the only thing she could think of was that if she had never found out he was a hunter, she would have trusted him from the beginning.

“If your life wasn’t tied to mine, would you try to kill me?” she asked him with her gaze fixed on the hot cup of tea in her hands. She dared lift her gaze, but only saw an unreadable expression.

“Why would I?” he asked. “I was not sent to kill you,” he replied as if he finally understood everything, and he could see right through her. “Not all hunters are bad, Atarah.”

She snickered at his last words. “I might be young, but I’m not naive,” she assured him. “I know good and evil exist, but no one is truly born evil. Sometimes the circumstances push them to do things they will never forget, and they will later regret. Villains are not born, are made, and even the hero is the villain in someone else’s story.” She put her cup on the side table of the armchair, and then she stared at him. “There is always more to the story than we know about. And everyone has their own hidden plans. I want to know yours. So, tell me, Will, why are you really helping me?” she asked him as she leaned forward, placing her forearms on her legs. “Besides the obvious, why would you do it? What do you have to gain from this, or lose?”

“Besides the obvious. Is that hard to believe that I really want to help you?” He leaned forward, looking directly into her eyes. At first, she tilted her head and then leaned back. She waited patiently for his answer without taking her eyes off him. “I was sent to retrieve the dagger.”

Atarah held her breath for a moment. “You were the one who killed the messenger on the river,” she said breathlessly, to which he only deviated his gaze to the fire.

“Well, the bond should ease your mind, because I’m not going to hurt you. Even if we didn’t have it, I wouldn’t do that,” he replied, looking at her straight into her eyes.

“The bond doesn’t let you do it,” she reminded him, “but I think that’s better than having to wait for hunters and assassins looking for you because there’s a bounty over your head. Oh! That’s true, you also have a bounty over your head,” she teased him with a grin.

“Welcome to my world,” he smiled, raising his canteen as if he were about to toast. “Staying in one place can be boring sometimes,” he said before he took a sip from his canteen. It was strange for Atarah to be familiar with that feeling, like she knew precisely what he was talking about. Like she had lived it, too. It must have been hard for him not to be able to settle anywhere and always be on the run, looking after every single word he said and hoping it wouldn’t get him caught. That also reminded her of Rhiannon and the coven and how difficult it must have been to take refuge in another place that wasn’t their home.

Atarah got up from the chair and walked towards him, stretching out her hand so he could give her his canteen. As soon as he handed it to her, she took a sip and felt the sweet and strong taste of the liquor that warmed her throat, but she had to pass it on instantly, so it didn’t leave her with a strong taste in her mouth.

He studied her.

“Yes, it can be,” she replied, and saw how the corners of his lips tugged. Seeing him that way make her think he was definitely a handsome man. When she handed him the canteen, she sat in the armchair she had been. “So, what are we going to do, Will?”

“Listen…” He rested his elbows on his legs, and she straightened up to hear his proposal. “I know you do not like the idea of being linked more than I do, but let me help you. If I’m good at one thing—it’s at what I do,” Will explained to her with an elbow on one leg, his other hand touching his neck. “I’m not asking you to trust me completely, only that we make a kind of truce. You don’t have to do this on your own, Atarah.”

Those last words bothered her. Even if they knew each other for a short time, he knew the exact words to use. She could only hope she was not that transparent.

The Silverclaw leader wouldn’t link their lives for no reason. Who better than a hunter to protect her from other creatures than the one who was an expert in them and who had possibly studied how to end them? She was insane for even considering it, but she was tired of fighting alone. She wanted someone to rely on. Even if she had Galad, sometimes it wasn’t enough for her. Yet, she couldn’t trust William that easily.

“What about the bond?” she asked, hoping his answer could dissuade her from allying with him. “Why aren’t you looking for a way to break it?”

“As far as I know, some spells don’t last forever, and the General’s instructions were clear, which makes me think this one will be over if I die or if we get to Euthoria. And if you ask me, I prefer it to be because we arrived to Euthoria.” Will seemed to be open to anything she asked him. “Let me help you save your sister as a thank you for saving my life.”

Atarah didn’t recall hearing him say anything to her about it and hearing it from his lips surprised her, but she tried to remain unreadable. She didn’t even remember thanking him for it. He maintained eye contact with her, which made her believe he was being honest. “I thought that was already been settled,” she repeated what he’d said.

“It’s far from being settled,” Will replied with a smile, as if he knew that she was about to accept. She couldn’t help but smile back in response. “I had two brothers and a younger sister,” he added, the smile erasing from his face, and then he looked at the flames of the fire, letting the light reflect in his eyes, letting her see how they crystallized. “Let’s say I understand what you’re going through in some way.” Will paused for a moment before continuing: “I would have given everything to save them,” he said, his gaze still on the fire as he tapped lightly on the forearm of the armchair in which he was sitting.

Somehow it explained why he was helping her as if by getting back Myrah they would be getting back his sister too. It was too late for him, but not for her.

“Fine,” she answered in a soft voice. William turned to look at her with narrowed eyes, as if he expected something else. “But…” she continued, which in response, he sketched half a smile. “If we are going to work together, we’d better establish certain conditions for our truce.”

“Like?”

“Until we get to Euthoria, you’d better not take any job that involves hunting a creature because it can cause us more trouble. My list of enemies is long enough, and I don’t want to add more to it.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I didn’t plan to kill anyone, so you can take that out. But since we are setting some conditions, I would ask you to think about my plans before discarding them right away.”

“I didn’t—” She cut herself off. “Fine.”

“And your beast Galad must remain where it is now, or at least until we arrive to Euthoria,” he quickly added.

Atarah bit inside her cheek as she looked in another direction. “I can’t do that,” she protested, and he cocked his head to the side, looking at her seriously. She wasn’t lying. Plus, he already knew that, so what could he mean by that? “I can’t control it,” she confessed.

“You can try.”

“Fine,” she replied, moving her hair to her shoulder. “Then don’t dismiss my plans before you listen to them either,” she added.

“Fine,” he said, as if he had no problem. “Anything else?”

“Yes, you’d better control your temper.”

He laughed. “My temper?” he asked, pointing at himself, and she nodded. “I think who should control their temper is up for debate, but fine, I’ll do it. Anything else, Your Highness?”

Atarah stared at him. “Stop calling me Your Highness,” she requested with a serious tone. “Being the adoptive daughter of Rhiannon doesn’t make me a princess.”

“I beg to differ, but alright,” William replied, extending his hand for her to take it. “William. I am a hunter with a bounty over his head.”

“Atarah, I have no idea who wants to see me dead,” she replied as she took his hand and gently squeezed it, letting her see how the veins marked on his hand. She took advantage of that moment to open her senses and to try to read his emotions so she could see his true intentions. But she couldn’t completely read them, like someone or something had created a barrier that covered him. That made her curious. She only managed to feel his calm, but what she saw in his eyes was what convinced her. She remembered seeing in it in her adoptive mother’s eyes every time she looked at her. Hope. “There’s something else,” she informed him when she let go of his hand. “I’m not going to give you the dagger.”

“For the time being we have a truce,” he said when their gazes locked as if they knew their alliance was hanging by a thread before it began, only she clung desperately to it so she could find her sister before something happened to her.

“We have it, but if I were you, I would give up on it. I lost it when my sister disappeared,” she confessed, letting her gaze get lost in the flames of the fire.

“Well, these things happen.”

Atarah doubted he would accept it so easily. “Yes,” she agreed in a low tone.

She couldn’t help but yawn. When she looked at the bed behind them, he followed her gaze.

“Take the bed,” William said as if he’d read her thoughts and before she could say anything, he added, “I can sleep outside.”

“Where?”

“I think there was a comfortable place downstairs,” he mused. “Or I can sleep outside guarding the entrance.”

She was about to accept, but she would feel guilty if she left him to sleep outside. Plus, they had already slept together under the stars, so it wasn’t that different. Atarah stood up from the armchair and took one of the pillows from the bed along with one of the blankets that were on top while William waited with one hand on the doorknob.

“You paid for a room for the two of us. I don’t think it’s fair for you to sleep outside. Also, with the fireplace nearby, I doubt you will be cold here,” she said when she handed him the blanket. William stared at her with a soft gaze when she walked back to the bed. “What? We have already slept together under the stars. This is no different,” she added as she stepped into the other blankets on the bed. He didn’t reply, only set a half-smile on his face as he began to fold the blanket to make an improvised bed near the fireplace.