A Heart So Fierce and Broken (The Cursebreaker Series Book 2)
A Heart So Fierce and Broken: Chapter 30

We’re given breakfast at daybreak, so much food that we can hardly eat half. The finest horses the town has to offer wait to carry us wherever we want to go. Everyone we encounter is deferential. Ladies curtsy and men bow when we pass, and we leave a trail of whispers in our wake.

All of it makes me decidedly uncomfortable. I am nothing to these people. I am fleeing Emberfall, not saving it. Every time someone calls me Your Highness, I flinch and expect to see Rhen.

I’m tired and irritable by the time we’re on horseback, and I’m not the only one. Lack of sleep has done no one any good, but if Dustan and his men plan to circle back, we need to be quick and we need to be cautious. We gallop straight west from Blind Hollow, though it will add half a day of travel to the mountain pass. The heat of the sun presses down, but we ride on, desperate to get some distance between us and the town. Iisak soars high above, until he looks less like a creature out of a fairy tale, and more like a black hawk riding an air current.

When the sun blazes directly overhead, I slow my horse to a walk, and the others follow suit. The animal’s neck and flanks are damp with sweat, so I turn into the tree line to head for the creek. When I dismount and give the horse its head, its muzzle plunges into the icy water.

“We will rest for half an hour,” I say. I crouch on the bank and run a handful of water over the back of my neck.

Nearby, Tycho all but falls to his knees on the muddy bank. His cheeks are red, and he splashes water over his head before drinking it. A few yards downstream, Lia Mara is doing the same. I watch the water trickle over her neck, the end of her braid trailing in the water. Her cheeks are pink, too, tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead.

“Grey.”

I straighten to replace Jacob beside me. His shirt is damp, his dark hair thick with sweat. His eyes are worn and irritated. “Half an hour?” he demands.

“We should hardly stop that long.”

“Everyone is exhausted. We got like two hours’ sleep, and we’ve been riding hard all morning.” He pauses, his voice lowering. “Maybe the others won’t say anything to you, but I will.”

He might have saved my life last night, but I hold no illusions about it being done for my benefit. He needs me to get him home—and he’s been needling me since the morning I woke chained in the wagon. I take a step, closing the distance between us. My voice is equally low. “If you can’t manage the pace, stay behind.”

“Don’t be a dick. I’m asking you for a day to rest—”

“A day.” I laugh without any humor. “Dustan would cut our throats in our sleep. Do you need a nursemaid, too, Jacob?”

He shoves me hard, right in the chest.

I shove him back, and he nearly falls. He recovers more quickly than I’m ready for, and he tackles me around the midsection. We both go down in the icy creek. The cold steals my breath—and then the water closes over my face as he pins me.

I land a punch in his side, and it grants me a few inches of freedom to suck in a breath before Jacob swings a fist that cracks me right in the jaw. I’m underwater again, his hands trapping me there. I can’t get leverage. I can’t breathe. The stars wait under my skin, ready to heal me, but they can’t fill my lungs with air.

Without warning, his hands fist in my shirt, and he jerks me up. I cough and gasp for breath.

“A day,” he says viciously.

“Half an—”

He shoves me underwater again, and this time I distantly register Lia Mara and Tycho shouting at him. My hands are tight on his wrists, my fingers digging in, but he holds fast.

The magic waits, sparks and stars under my skin. Lilith used to draw blood with barely a touch. Surely that’s not so different from healing. Pulling apart instead of putting together. Golden light begins to cloud my vision, flares of sunlight on the inside of my eyelids.

Harper will probably hate me forever if I kill her brother, but right now it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I send the sparks into his wrists. He shouts and throws himself back. I drag myself out of the creek, coughing a lungful of water onto the muddy bank beside me.

Jacob is still kneeling in the water, cradling a wrist against his chest. Blood stains his shirt, but it must not be too bad. His eyes are murderous instead of panicked.

“It’s not just for them, you idiot,” he says, his voice full of derision. “You’re exhausted, too. There’s no way I should have been able to pin you.”

I cough again. My throat feels ragged and raw. We’ve generated an audience. Lia Mara and Tycho are on the bank, their eyes worriedly going from me to Jacob. Noah is in the water, trying to pry Jacob’s arm away from his chest. Iisak crouches on the bank of the creek, waiting.

I don’t look at any of them.

The worst part is that Jacob is right. I am exhausted. He shouldn’t have been able to pin me. He shouldn’t have been able to land a punch at all.

I drag myself out of the water, then shove wet hair out of my face. “Fine. You can have until nightfall.” Without looking back, I head to where the horses are tethered to check our supplies.

No one follows.

I’m glad. I watch the others drift back into their quiet activities. Noah and Jacob are building a fire. Tycho looks like he’s trying to coax Iisak into a game of cards, and Lia Mara asks to play as well. She glances in my direction as if intending to invite me to join them, but whatever she replaces in my expression convinces her otherwise, because she looks back at the cards while Tycho deals. The thought sours my darkening mood.

Last night, Lia Mara said I was leading. She’s wrong. I feel as though I’m flailing. Even when I was guard commander, I had a regimented set of duties. I had a plan. A chain of command. The prince gave orders, and I followed them.

Now, I have nothing. I have myself. Syhl Shallow might be the right destination—or it may very well be the wrong one.

Despite everything that has happened, I long for Rhen’s counsel. A near-eternity trapped by the curse meant that I knew what to expect from him, and he from me.

Rhen, I think. What would you do?

He would not ally with Syhl Shallow. I know that much.

I sigh, dropping to sit against a tree. My eyes sting from the water in the creek, so I rub at them. Exhaustion begs me to leave them closed, so I do, just for a moment. My hand falls into my lap.

“Yeah, I knew you were tired.”

I startle awake, my hands scrabbling through dirt and undergrowth for a weapon before I realize it’s only Jacob. The sky at his back has turned purple, the sun a sliver to our west, peeking over the mountain ranges. I’m disoriented and panicked for a moment, but his expression isn’t troubled, and all is quiet. The scent of our cooking fire wakes my belly with a vengeance. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

I drag a hand across my face. “How much time has passed?”

“Not enough. Here.” He holds out a steel bowl. “Eat while it’s hot.”

I take the bowl, and it’s warm, filled with shredded meat, a hunk of melting cheese, and a heel of bread that we brought from Blind Hollow. My clothes are still damp, but hunger is more pressing, so I draw my legs up to sit cross-legged, then dip the bread into the food. I should likely thank him, but I don’t. My mood still feels prickly and bitter, and I need no reminding of the way Jacob held me under the water.

When he drops to sit in the leaves across from me, his own bowl in his lap, my fingers go still. I glance up. “I am better rested now,” I say darkly.

He scoops up meat and cheese on the corner of his bread. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to kick my ass? Shut up and eat your food.”

The words are easy, lacking venom. Not repentant, but close. We’re a good distance from the fire, and it puts his eyes in shadow. I sigh and lift the bread to my mouth. We eat in silence for the longest time, until the sharp edges of my thoughts soften into something less volatile.

Jacob eventually sets his bowl aside, then pulls a cork from a bottle I didn’t realize he’d carried. He holds it out to me first.

I hesitate, then shake my head.

He takes a long swig, then says, “This is why I like you better than Rhen. He wouldn’t have sat here.”

He’s right. Rhen’s pride wouldn’t have allowed it. I use the remnants of my bread to scrape the last bit of cheese from the bowl. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you when I’m done eating.”

He smiles, but it’s brief and flickers out. “You gave me hell on the road from Rillisk to Ironrose, telling me I was pushing the guardsmen too hard. You were doing the same thing.”

“You were rushing needlessly. I’m trying to keep us alive.”

“So am I.”

My hands go still again, and I look up at him.

Jacob’s expression doesn’t change. “You might have noticed that last night.”

When he saved my life. I scowl. “You just need me alive to get you home.”

He swears and takes another draw from the bottle, then gives a humorless laugh. “Wow.”

I frown and say nothing.

“You don’t trust anyone at all,” he says, “and I think that, more than anything, is what’s going to bring you down.”

“That is not true.”

“It is true. You didn’t trust Rhen enough to tell him who you are. You don’t trust Lia Mara enough to fully commit to taking sanctuary in Syhl Shallow. I just watched you run yourself into the ground because you didn’t trust the town to keep you safe—and I have a feeling I’m going to watch it again and again until Dustan puts a sword through your back.”

“We were putting the town at risk—”

“Whatever. They drove those guardsmen out of there. They would have done it again. We could be sleeping in a bed right now instead of sitting in the leaves.” He pauses, and his eyes are like fire. “You don’t trust me enough to listen when I say people need to rest. You don’t trust me even though I jumped into a battle to save your life.”

I’m not sure what to say.

“You keep treating me like this bumbling idiot,” he snaps, “but I’m not reckless, and I’m not weak. I held my own in DC before we ever came here, and I can hold my own in Emberfall. I got your ass out of Ironrose after Rhen tore you and Tycho apart. And I didn’t just save you last night. I killed one of Rhen’s guardsmen. I put my neck on the line. I’m ready to ride into enemy territory with you. You think this is all on the off chance that you might one day be able to get us home? Are you kidding me?”

“Jacob—”

“I’m not done. I know you spent like four billion years trapped in that castle with no one but Rhen, and I won’t even tell you what Noah thinks that must have done to your mental state, but—” He breaks off and makes a frustrated noise. “He wasn’t your friend, Grey. He had an eternity to be your friend, and he wasn’t. Even when you were dragged back to that castle, even after everything, he treated you like a criminal.”

“Rhen is protecting his kingdom.”

“You’re not his guardsman anymore. You owe him nothing. Stop acting like you do.” I flinch. He takes a swig from the bottle again and sighs. “You saved Noah’s life last night, Grey. You saved mine. I might have made you swear an oath to me, but we’ve moved way past that.”

I didn’t realize.

I should have.

“Forgive me—” I begin.

“Oh, shut up. Here.” Jacob holds out the bottle. The amber liquor swirls and glitters in the light from the distant fire.

I inhale to refuse, but I am struck by his words. You’re not a guardsman anymore.

I seize the bottle and upend it, swallowing fire.

Jake snorts. “Okay, take it easy, tiger.”

I cough and hand it back. “That tastes terrible.”

“I know. It’s fantastic. That Eowen guy said it was the best he had.” Jacob takes a long swallow himself. “More?”

I should refuse.

I don’t. This sip burns as much as the first. My thoughts feel loose and scattered already.

Jacob is watching me. “I’m surprised you and Rhen weren’t lit every day of that curse.”

“He was. On occasion.” On the last night of the final season, Rhen and I shared a bottle of sugared spirits and toasted our failures. He encouraged me to escape the curse, to replace a new life away from Ironrose.

He was trying to protect me.

I have long thought we should have been friends, Grey. That’s what he said the day I was dragged back to the castle.

He flayed my back open the next day. Out of fear of the unknown.

He had an eternity to be your friend, Jacob said.

Suddenly I want to drain this whole bottle. For that reason alone, I shove the cork back in. “We will reach Syhl Shallow in a day’s time,” I say, and my voice has gone husky.

“That’s what Iisak said, too.”

“Lia Mara claims she can assure our safety, but I would like to offer the illusion of strength all the same.”

“What does that mean?”

“Perhaps you should ride at my side.”

“Like a servant?”

“No.” I pause. This feels like it might be a bad idea, but my ability to care is quickly vanishing. “Like a second-in-command.”

He pulls the cork free and takes a swallow. “I’m not like you. I can’t be like you were to Rhen.”

No. He can’t. He might not be reckless and weak, but he is headstrong and impulsive.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Jacob is studying me. “Or are you just trying to do the same thing Rhen did?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you trying to fake it?” His expression darkens. “Are you asking me to sit on a horse and look like hired muscle?”

I hesitate.

He rolls his eyes and goes to take another drink from the bottle.

I reach out and pull it away from him. We’re both a bit drunk now, and my words feel fuzzy and a little more honest than I’m ready for. “Would you be able to do it without faking it?”

His eyes meet mine, and I think he’s going to be flippant and defiant about this, the way he is about most everything.

Instead, he says, “Yeah. I could.”

“Taking orders requires trust, Jacob. You would have to trust me.”

“Like … not try to drown you?”

I lift my eyes skyward. “Forget I asked.”

“No. I can do that.” He pauses. “If you can trust me when I say you’re wrong.” He draws back his sleeve, where more than a dozen stitches lace up the skin of his wrist. “Instead of doing this.”

My eyes widen. “You have my word.”

He puts out a hand. “Deal.”

I clasp it. “I may regret this when I’m sober.”

“Yeah, same.” He tries to jerk the bottle back from me.

“Enough.” I hold fast. “We are still in danger, Jacob.”

“Fine.” He sighs and lets go. “And, look. If we’re going to be friends, you’re going to have to start calling me Jake.”