Catherine Wilson [Wilson - The Darkest Night

The Darkest Night

(The Orien Trilogy, Book Two)

Catherine Wilson

Copyright @ 2016 by Catherine Wilson

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof.

This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are products of the authors imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Jane Dixon-Smith

Edited by Cynthia Shepp

For my husband, Jody, my real-life handsome prince.

And though she be but little, she is fierce.

William Shakespeare

Contents

One

Its not the magic that has to be strong enough, but the person whos wielding it, her soft voice rings out, dancing along the open balcony and up to the dark, awaiting sky.

Our gazes meet, and we smile.

Its the first real grin Ive shared in what seems like ages, and I cant help but beam brighter when I feel the soft tingles of hope building within my chest. Its been four long weeks since I last saw Aras. Four impossibly long weeks since he gave away his very soul to the monster whom I call Father. His last words play over and over again in my mind, never allowing me peace, but giving me comfort all the same. Each night, I sing his goodbye against the silken fabric of my white sheets, begging my mind to remember the richness of his voice. The measure of his calm.

Look to the stars, Little Bird.

And I look. Oh, my sweet Aras, I look. Whenever darkness calls, I tilt my head up to the open sky, drinking in the tiny lights as they move across the black sea, beckoning me like that very bird who has lost her way home. There I stand for hours, held up only by the tight grip of my fingers along the rail. My tired body fights to give out, but my mind not willing to let it go. Most nights, I dont think Id ever give up, if it werent for the small, warm hand that always finds my own, pulling me back and away from the consuming stars. Its then, and only then, that I decide to let the pain win.

Every evening, its the same, her desire to comfort. Im no fool to believe I wouldnt be in pieces without her by my side. For my heart doesnt hurt because Ive yet to see Aras. It hurts for the day when I do.

But, for tonight, she hasnt pulled me away just yet.

Or at least thats what Mother would always say, Vivi continues, the brightness in her eyes dimming, but you know how frightfully positive she could be.

Could be, I notice. A subtle nod to the fact that our mother may not truly be with us. That shes gone to join the others in the stars where I thought she was all along. Truthfully, we have no way of knowing, and given our fathers murderous intentions of the past, we arent likely to gain information any time soon.

I push the edges of my smile up until it crinkles my eyes, doing my best to ignore the way her bottom lip quivers at the mere mention of Mother. The very way mine does when I allow myself to think of Papa, of Aras. After all, Vivi has always done the same for me. Ive quickly learned that overlooking ones weaknesses is the sisterly thing to do, especially when that ignorance is accompanied by a warm hug and something sweet to eat.

My little sister has spoiled me, and Im more than happy to admit it.

Yes, that is an annoyingly deep one, isnt it? I muse, looking away and tilting my chin back toward the stars. I do hope shes right though. That in the end, Ill be strong enough

My words trail off, a quiet mumble in the fragile space between us. I dont have to voice my fears for Vivi to know them. She sees it in the way my hands clench and tremble in the presence of our father. The way my pale skin turns splotched and red when I try to stop the cruel magic from bleeding out of my limbs. She sees the conflict, the ever-present worry.

She understands I want to control this power almost as much as I dont.

Youll get this, Brave, she insists, words rising with the flare of her stubborn will. You havent spoken yet of todays lesson. I didnt hear news of any innocent bystanders getting burned by our long-lost princess, so Im assuming it went well.

If by well, she means I pretended to not understand a thing of which my father taught me, all the while secretly storing it away in my mind to practice in a dark corner on my own, then I suppose the day could be deemed successful. Though with each passing week, theres a starker glint in Knoxs eyea calculating knowledge of the true magic that hums within my bones.

Hes holding back now, if only to watch me explode.

I fall away from the rail, wrapping a protective arm around her small, but confident shoulders, wishing I could whisk her away to the wooden gates of Ashen. I used to think of Ashen as my homethe one place where I could be myself. But now I understand the only true home is the one that can be held within ones arms. Todays lesson ended with an entire rooms furnishings being set on fire. His doing, obviously, not mine. Although I cant say I blame him, as four weeks seems like an exceedingly long time for his special daughter to come into her ruthless powers. But I do feel sorry for the room. It was a new one today, and the rich purple cushions were awfully pretty.

If Vivi flinches at the mention of Fathers fire, she hides it well. A trait she learned long before I ever graced these wicked halls, and Id give away Crisps long-ruined tunic to know it myself.

Hell learn our secret soon.

Our secret, indeed. There isnt another soul who Id trust with it. Well, except for Aras, but apparently, his soul is no longer applicable. Besides, our worry is a moot point anyway. Although I dont express my suspicions to Vivi, I know Knox has already learned it. Our fear should be for why hes making our secrets a part of his own.

And what will we do when he does? I ask, hiding the thickness of my voice with a gentle squeeze of her arm.

Her head swivels in my directiona glowing fierceness bouncing in her eyes as they soak in the low light from the open balcony doors. Well burn this very place to the ground, thats what. And once we find Aras, well run.

Her bold words dont surprise me in the least. In fact, they only confirm what Ive found to be true of Vivi since the very day she wiped those tears from my cheek. Where I form flames from my veins, she forms them from her tongue. Confident and strong, with the force of a powerful child-beast. Some days, I wish the magic had skipped me altogether, filling into her confident bones instead. Shes so much better equipped to handle it than me.

Ive never been prouder to share someones blood.

Together, we meander back into the blinding comfort of my white room, muted only by the soft haze cast off by the few low-lit lanterns scattered about the grand space. My bare feet sink into the inviting, thick rugs as we pad across the way to my large canopy bed. For a brief moment, I consider forgetting I ever asked what well do when Father learns the true nature of my fire. The answer brings up too many emotions. Ones Im not yet ready to explore. But who am I to ruin her last bit of hope? If she truly believes Aras is coming back to us, then maybe I should think it, too. Though now I notice the way her eyes skirt away to the tiny threads of our blanket as we sit cross-legged atop the soft bed, and I realize that maybe even fearless, resilient Vivi has her doubts. I would be doing her a disservice if I didnt share mine as well.

And what if Aras doesnt want to come? I ask, reaching out to still her fingers as they wind circles along the fabric.

She looks up once more, pure determination shining across her face. Then I suppose well have to make him.

Before I can begin to consider what this making him entails, a quiet knock fills our chamber, and the door at the end of the room pries open with a tentative swing. Chocolate locks, pinned up into a tight, perfect bun, tip into the room as a familiar set of polite, but careful eyes meet my own.