Rattled from her sleep by sharp shake, Arrenia bolted upright and stared into the darkness. Castor placed something in her palm, pressing it to her. Urgency rang from his every move, arousing alarm within her soul.
“Keep it,” he said. “Let no one know you have it.”
Arrenia undid her knotted fist, peeling her fingers back until the object lay bare in the crook of her hand. She explored the edges slicing the thin air, inhaling and exhaling with slow surety.
Eyes blazing in confusion, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her voice nought but a whisper, she said, “My mother’s medallion. But why…?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s just too many questions…no one seems to know….”
Head drooping between his shoulders, he let out a sigh. Words perished on her tongue’s tip as she took his hand in her own. The unanswered consumed him, draining his strength with the slow torture of the mind. She swallowed her curiosity, knowing that it would only burden him more.
“You look exhausted,” she finally said. “Maybe you should return to your quarters.”
Methodically massaging his brows, his head shook again. “No… No, I cannot do that.”
Rising, he walked to an overturned pile and thrust a new dagger into his scabbard. He tightened the belt about his waist, all too aware of her vigilant gaze.
“Where are you going?”
He fumbled with the buckle, trying to make his voice steady. He mustn’t let her know…he mustn’t let her see his fear.
Fear. Fear of everything. Fear for her- fear what all of this might mean….And fear of himself.
What am I doing, helping this Lydacian girl? Oh, Ino, tell me why I do this! he thought.
“I will hunt this down until I know what I need,” he said.
“Then take me with you.”
He stared at her, her eager manner mixing with resolution. Was she crazy? Did she not know what might happen? What mankind might do to her?
And yet, was it not also her right to know, and to know everything she could? A sigh escaped once again as he stood in the indecisive void between the practicality of his notions and his roiling emotions.
She rose, approaching him, her eyes never once leaving his. He watched the rhythm of her every step, his heart beginning to dance to the beat of her every move. Covering it with his hand, he attempted in vain to cease the wild palpitations pulsing through him. A wishing wave flooded over him, and he found himself engulfed with the suddenness of its power. With his entire being, he began to wish. To wish this task was not hers. To wish that the medallion had never been discovered. And, though he knew his heart thought otherwise, in his mind he wished she had never come.
“Please, Castor,” she held out her hand to him, every inch of her begging, pleading with him. “I need to know.”
Her words washed over him, flooding him with feelings anew, drowning him in the depths of her tender voice. Afraid that he might be overcome by the force swallowing him in its mystic jaws, he turned from her. Who was this little Lydacian girl who could melt a heart hardened by the hammer of war? So small, so fragile, and yet so strong!
“Castor, please!”
Spinning about, he grasped her wrist. His voice reduced to a whisper, he brought his face close to hers. “Arrenia, listen to me. Discovering the mystery of the medallion holds many dangers, especially to one who wields this object of legend. Many want your life, Arrenia, and will stop at nothing to get. If you come with me, your life will be endangered. And, Arrenia, oh, Arrenia! I cannot, I will not….”
Words faded from his tongue as quiet crowded around them. A moment passed, then Arrenia said, “I want to come.”
He dropped her hand, letting it droop to her side. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he gave a slow nodded. “Very well. But stay close to me.”
She smiled up at him, her heart skipping a beat as he wrapped his fingers about her own. Falling in stride beside him, the duo ventured off into the night.
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