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“Keep up!” he yelled, and I cursed.
He wanted a reaction out of me, whether good or bad. When I cursed him or tried to kick him, he smiled a fraction wider, as if the display of any emotion was proof I was here, alive and not dying inside. And maybe, just maybe, all the banter did stir something other than despair in me, even if it was against my will.
The altitude at this height was almost crippling, but the view was worth it. I stopped again under the pretense of taking it all in. Mountains, far larger than I had ever seen, surrounded us. Green wasn’t even the color I would use to describe the landscape. It was so much more vibrant and alive. The sky damn near shimmered behind the rolling clouds. It was reminiscent of the images of eternal paradise people painted back on Onuna. Ignoring the slap of pain, I wondered if this was what Gabby saw now. Was she somewhere like this and happy?
I hoped so.
With a deep sigh, I turned away and rushed to catch up with Samkiel. My back, my thighs, and my arms hurt. No, that was a lie. Everything hurt. Every day Samkiel could escape from his duties with the council, he dragged me out to this mountain and ran me up and down it. At first, I struggled to keep up, and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t complained the entire time. But I still did it. He never spoke of what went on behind the council doors, but his mood was always sour when he came to me. By the way he watched me, I had a feeling I was often a topic of conversation. It was either all about me or something worse.
“You won’t have to send me to the council.” I huffed and leaned back, trying to catch my breath, my hand resting on my sweat-soaked side. “I’ll die from exhaustion before then.”
Samkiel turned around and walked backward, not missing a step or stumbling. “I don’t remember you complaining this much,” he quipped.
“Why are we doing this again?” I wiped my brow.
He smiled and turned around. The crunch of our shoes against the rocks was the only sound.
“If I am being honest,” he said, “this was another test.”
I paused next to a jagged rock. “Another test?”
He nodded. “The air at this altitude would kill a mortal, which means your powers are still there, bubbling under the surface.”
I stood straight, my fists clenching at my side. “You mean I could have died instead of just being worn out?”
He only smiled, not even flinching. “It wouldn’t have reached that point. I watched you every second of the way, listening to every heartbeat, every breath. I would have felt the blood vessels constricting the second it became too much, and we would have stopped.”
“So, I haven’t lost my powers?”
“No, but they are severely suppressed. So much so that even when you are angry, your hands don’t even flicker.”
I glanced at my hands, opening and closing them, missing the familiar rush of power and warmth. I felt hollow and empty, but maybe this was better.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” I said, wiping sweat from my face.
“I’m not.”
I glared at him. “You don’t know everything.”
“Why bury your powers so deeply?”
I glanced toward him as if one of the reasons wasn’t staring me in my face. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.” He took a step closer, the rocks beneath his feet crunching. “We’ll figure it out.”
My heart lurched as he held out his hand, his pinky extended. I looked at it, remembering what it meant, what had transpired between us, and shoved past him.
“I’m ready to go.”
* * *
It was like that for days, Samkiel trying to reach me and me shutting him down. I lashed out because I didn’t feel so miserable when he was around, and that pissed me off more than anything.
Our latest argument was him trying to get me to eat. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to, but nothing sounded or tasted appetizing. Everything was bland, and after a few bites, I was done, no matter what fancy breads, meats, or fruits he brought.
Something felt off, but I would not tell him that. It could be a side effect of losing my powers. I had lived on blood and bone for months and wasn’t sure I could return to regular food. After a few days, I stopped thinking about it, not caring enough to really worry about it.
Even though we argued and I complained the whole time, being with him and participating in his crazy, stupid exercise routines seemed to help me. I slept and didn’t dream, too tired for even that, but Samkiel wasn’t with me all the time. I watched his light leave and cursed myself as I stayed awake, watching for his return. Sometimes when he returned late, I’d run to the bed, fake sleep as if I hadn't been waiting, and finally doze off when I heard him downstairs. We no longer shared a bed, but just having him downstairs brought me peace. That swirling, aching void in my chest didn’t scream when he was near. Although, I’d never admit it to him.
