Cloud Piercer

Sixteen

My immediate impulse is to go to him. Down here, so far from home, life feels like a gamble, and Casimir has always been my haven. But my brain is quicker than my body, sending me backwards instead as our eyes meet.

I look between him and the woman. "Son?" His jaw clenches. "You're a deserter. You... you've lied to me."

"He's done a lot of lying," Killian says, his tone taunting. "Haven't you, Casimir?"

Casimir glares. "Stay out of it. If it weren't for you—"

"If it weren't for me, Freya never would've found out the truth."

"You broke our agreement by bringing her here."

"You didn't fulfil your end of the deal," Killian says. "Your time ran out."

"Son of a bitch." Casimir tugs Killian's collar, twisting his fist in the material. But the hold lasts for no more than a second, Killian easily twisting from his grip and locking his arm around Casimir's neck.

"Careful," Killian hisses, low. "Don't start a fight you won't win."

"Enough," the woman, Casimir's mother, interrupts. Killian releases Casimir at her command, and she grabs Casimir's arm. "You're acting like a child. We have an audience."

Casimir shakes her off, still glaring at Killian who leans back and adjusts his collar, unfazed by the conflict. I stare at the side of Casimir's face, trying to piece together the interaction. That night when Casimir saw me talking to Killian as we walked back from the lake, when he'd asked me who he was, he already knew. They're both deserters. And apparently, not friends.

Casimir tears his gaze from Killian to look at me, expression shifting. "Don't look at me like that." He steps towards me, looking at my bound hands. "Was this necessary?" he asks, looking at Jax over my shoulder.

"She tried to stab me, so yeah."

He sighs, touching my hand. I flinch backwards.

"Frey." His voice softens. "I just want to undo the ropes."

I don't protest as he unwinds the ropes, revealing angry, marked skin beneath. I try to stop them from shaking, aware of the eyes on me, but they have a mind of their own. Casimir brushes his finger along the marks. I look up at him. No matter the situation we're in, his touch comforts me. I don't know who he is, but he won't hurt me, that I know.

He glances over his shoulder, at the people seated at the tables. They snap their gazes away as if they hadn't been watching, resuming as normal. I pull my hands from him, holding them to my chest and stepping backwards. The room has slowly emptied, the people seated earlier filing off into the side passageways. Only Killian, Jax, Casimir, and his mother remain. And despite the size of the area we're in, it feels suffocatingly small.

I've searched for so long, missing sleep, being late for school, all for this. And now that I'm here, right in the grasps of the deserters, I want nothing more than to get out. I want this to be a bad dream, to wake up in my bed with Casimir on the mattress on the floor. Because if this is real, it means the most important person in my world might not be who I thought they were.

"I want to go home."

Casimir turns to look at me. "Frey—"

"Don't call me that." He flinches when I take another step back. "Show me the way out. Take me back to Veymaw."

"Of course. I'll—"

The woman clucks her tongue, cutting him off. "You can't leave, Freya."

"What?" Casimir and I speak simultaneously.