Chapter 4: The Visitor

Chapter 4: The Visitor

They crashed through the cabin door in a tangle of mud, blood, and panic. The door had barely slammed shut behind them before Ishamon rounded on Ren. "AN ARMY?" His voice shook the cabin. "A FUCKING LUMIC ARMY?" Ren flinched. Ishamon didn't stop. "WHAT PART OF THAT LOOKED LIKE A NOBLE CONVOY TO YOU?" The lantern hanging from the ceiling swayed slightly from how hard the door had been thrown open. Shadows lurched across the walls. Rain hammered against the roof. The tiny cabin suddenly felt far too small to contain the fear and adrenaline that had followed them inside. "DO YOU KNOW HOW STUPID THIS WAS?" "Ish—" "NO." Ishamon pointed at him. "No. You don't get to talk yet." His chest rose and fell rapidly. Mud streaked his face. His hands were trembling. Not from exhaustion. From rage. "You told us there'd be a merchant." "I know—" "A noble." "I know—" "You told us we'd grab a few coins and run." "I know." "A FEW COINS?" Ishamon laughed. A short, sharp sound completely devoid of humor. "There were enough soldiers out there to conquer Langholm twice over." Lilith barely heard the rest. She was kneeling beside Frankie. The world seemed distant. Muted. The shouting became background noise. Frankie lay on one of the bedrolls. Still. Too still. Her skin had gone pale beneath the dirt and blood. A strip torn from Ishamon's shirt had been wrapped around her thigh, wound so tightly it looked painful even unconscious, but blood still seeped through the fabric in dark patches. Every few moments her chest rose in a shallow breath that looked as though it required tremendous effort. Then another. Then another. Lilith found herself counting them. One. Two. Three. Making sure they continued. Making sure Frankie was still there. Her own shoulder burned. The broken arrow remained lodged there, hidden beneath hastily wrapped cloth. Blood had dried down her arm. Every movement sent pain radiating through her muscles. She barely noticed. Frankie looked worse. Much worse. Across the room Ishamon was still yelling. "You said this was from a reputable source." "It was." "It clearly wasn't." "It was supposed to be." "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?" Ren didn't answer. For the first time since Lilith had met him, he seemed smaller. Not physically. Something else. His usual energy had vanished completely. The grin was gone. The confidence was gone. Even the stubbornness seemed weakened. He stood beside the bedroll staring at his sister. "I didn't know," he said quietly. Ishamon looked ready to continue shouting. Then he followed Ren's gaze. Frankie. The blood. The bandage. The shallow breathing. For a moment nobody spoke. Rain rattled overhead. Water dripped somewhere in the corner. The cabin smelled of damp wood, mud, sweat, and blood. Mostly blood. Ren slowly lowered himself to the floor beside Frankie. His hands shook. He reached toward her and then hesitated before touching her arm. "I'm sorry." The words were barely audible. "I'm sorry, Frankie." She didn't answer. Of course she didn't. Ren swallowed. "I'm sorry." Again. Like repeating it enough times might somehow reverse what had happened. Like apologies could pull arrows from flesh. Ishamon stared at him. Still furious. Still breathing hard. But the anger had changed shape. The shouting stopped. The rage remained. Only now it looked uglier. Because there wasn't anyone to direct it at. Not really. Ren looked devastated. Frankie might be dying. The soldiers were still out there. And somewhere in the forest behind them was an unconscious Lumic soldier wearing armor worth more than everything they collectively owned. The entire disaster had become so absurd it almost ceased to feel real. Almost. Ishamon turned away abruptly and drove a fist into the cabin wall. The old wood cracked. The lantern rattled. "Gods damn it." His voice sounded exhausted now. Not angry. Just tired. "So fucking stupid." Nobody disagreed. Lilith watched Frankie breathe. One breath. Then another. Then another. Each one felt uncertain. As though she were making a decision every time. Outside, thunder rolled somewhere far away. The rain continued without mercy. And for the first time since they'd met, none of them had any idea what to do next. The cabin sat beneath the rain like a wounded animal. Nobody spoke. Ishamon leaned against the far wall, arms folded tightly across his chest, staring at the floor with the intensity of a man trying to think his way out of disaster. Ren remained beside Frankie, one hand gripping hers as though letting go would somehow make things worse. Frankie still hadn't woken. Her breathing remained shallow. Every few moments Ren would glance at the blood-soaked bandage and look slightly more terrified. Lilith sat near the window. Mostly because she couldn't stand looking at Frankie anymore. Every time she did she felt guilty. Every time she looked away she felt worse. The rain streaked across the glass in crooked lines. Beyond it the forest was dark. Not merely nighttime dark. Deep. Dense. Ancient. The kind of darkness that existed beneath pines even when the moon was full. Lilith stared into it. Then froze. Something moved. A shape. Quick. Gone immediately. She straightened. "Ish." No response. "Ishamon." He didn't even look up. Whatever he was thinking about had consumed him completely. Probably soldiers. Probably escape routes. Probably how close all four of them had come to dying. Lilith frowned and looked back toward the window. Nothing. Just trees. Rain. Darkness. Maybe she'd imagined— KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK Everyone jumped. The sound exploded through the cabin. Not a soldier's hammering demand. Not the confident pounding of authority. Frantic. Desperate. The knocking came again. Rapid. Uneven. Almost panicked. Ren immediately looked toward the door. Ishamon moved first. His expression hardened instantly. "Hide her." Ren blinked. "What?" "Hide Frankie." The words came sharp as a knife. "Now." Ren didn't argue. For once. He immediately began dragging blankets over his sister. The room wasn't large enough to truly hide anyone, but panic often accepted poor solutions. Ishamon crossed the cabin slowly. Every movement deliberate. His knife appeared in his hand. Lilith hadn't even seen him draw it. "Quiet," he hissed. The knocking continued. Faster now. Then a voice came through the door. A young woman's voice. High. Scared. "Please!" Another knock. "Please let me in!" The voice cracked. "I won't do anything, I swear!" Knock knock knock. "I just need help!" Lilith stared at the door. That wasn't a soldier. No soldier in history had ever sounded like that. The voice came again. Desperate enough that it bordered on incoherent. "I can hear people in there!" Another knock. "Please!" "I won't cause trouble!" "Please let me in!" Lilith rose to her feet. Ishamon immediately blocked her path. "Don't." "What?" "It could be a trap." Lilith stared at him. "A trap?" "Yes." "What kind of trap?" "I don't know." "Exactly." The voice came again. Softer this time. More frightened. "Please..." Lilith looked toward the door. Then at Ishamon. Then back again. The girl sounded terrified. Genuinely terrified. Not pretending. Not acting. Terrified. Ishamon saw the look she gave him. Immediately scowled. Then scowled harder. Then sighed through clenched teeth. "Gods damn it." He stepped forward. Yanked the door open. The girl stumbled inside so quickly she nearly fell. For a moment nobody spoke. Because nobody had expected that. The young woman couldn't have been older than Lilith. Her dress had once been white. Now it was ruined. Mud stained the hem. Dark streaks covered the fabric. Blood. Almost certainly blood. Her blonde hair hung in tangled knots around her shoulders, soaked by rain and filled with leaves and pine needles. She looked exhausted. Terrified. Half-starved. Around her hands and arms were large blotches of red, raw skin that looked painfully tender. And then she looked up. The cabin became very quiet. Her eyes were impossible. Blue, Brilliant blue and around each pupil burned a ring of molten gold. Like sunlight trapped inside ice. A Lumic. Not some distant noble glimpsed from afar. A Lumic standing in their cabin. The girl immediately backed away from the door. Hands raised. "I swear I'm not with them." Ishamon's knife remained pointed directly at her. "Who?" "The soldiers." She swallowed. Rainwater dripped from her hair. "I'm not with them." "What are you doing here?" "I—" "Why are you alone?" "I—" "Why were you in the forest?" "I—" Every question seemed to hit her like a thrown stone. The girl looked trapped. Cornered. She glanced from Ishamon to Lilith. Then to Ren. Then briefly toward the shape hidden beneath blankets. Fear flashed across her face. Not calculation. Fear. "The group I was with..." she began quietly. Her voice faltered. "They were attacked." The cabin went silent. Ishamon didn't lower the knife. "By who?" The girl hesitated. Too long. Lilith noticed. So did Ishamon. His eyes narrowed. "By who?" The girl looked away. "I don't know." "That's a lie." She flinched. "I don't know exactly." "Who are you?" No answer. "Who are you?" The question came harder. The girl visibly shrank. For a moment she looked like she might cry. Then she seemed to realize there was no escaping it. No useful lie, no believable answer. Her shoulders lowered. And very quietly she said: "Aurelia." Nobody reacted. She swallowed. "Aurelia Tenebris." The cabin remained silent. Lilith frowned. The name sounded familiar. Very familiar. Then her brain caught up. And suddenly the world stopped making sense. Ren looked up first. Confused. Then confused in a different way. Then horrified. Ishamon blinked. Once. Twice. His knife lowered an inch. Not intentionally. Just from shock. The girl continued speaking in the tone of someone reciting a death sentence. "Aurelia Tenebris." Another swallow. "Crown Princess of Greater Lumina." Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. "Daughter of Conshu Moonlight Tenebris." The rain hammered against the roof. "Dawnwalker of Light." Silence. Complete silence. The kind that arrives after an explosion. The kind that exists because reality itself needs a moment to recover. Ren stared. Ishamon stared. Lilith stared. The soaking wet girl standing in front of them looked miserable. Exhausted. Covered in mud. Barely holding herself together. Not remotely like the stories. Not remotely like the portraits. Not remotely like the most important person in the entire continent. And yet, the eyes, the name, the way she spoke it. The absolute certainty that she knew exactly how unbelievable it sounded.Nobody said anything for several long seconds. Then Ren finally broke the silence. "...What?" Aurelia looked down at the floor. "I know how that sounds." "What?" "I can explain." "What?" "I really can." Ren pointed at her. "What?" Ishamon slowly lowered himself onto a nearby crate, not because he wanted to sit. Because his legs appeared to have forgotten their purpose. Lilith found herself agreeing with Ren. Because among all the possible things she had expected to happen tonight— the Crown Princess of Lumina arriving at their cabin had ranked somewhere below being struck by lightning indoors.