A Clove of Fates

12. Decided

A lot of things sucked about this whole situation. But the thing that sucked the most was that my own father wanted me dead.

I knew that he wasn't kind. I knew that he was wicked and cruel and heartless. I knew that he'd killed Darby's mother and probably mine and doubtlessly countless others. I knew that I should have hated him, and I did hate him in some strange way that often got tangled up in the way I loved him.

But I thought that he loved me at least.

The fact that he didn't broke my heart.

Funny. All these years I thought I was above his girls in this way, but here I was. Just as delusional as them. Thinking that such a monster could have a place in it's heart for me, let alone a heart at all.

I wish I could've been angry. At him, at Aeska, at the people who were trying to kill me. At myself, for walking willingly with them to my death. Strong feelings like anger had never been able to truly cling fast to me. All the hatred I had fizzled and died, melting into this lukewarm, depressing feeling of acceptance.

My father didn't love me. I was going to die.

Why was this so easy for me to understand?

I supposed that meant I was there again, in that third person view of my life, or getting there at least. Sometimes it was like this. Quiet, slow, and deliberate, and I wouldn't notice until something bad would happen, like I would sprain my ankle or be broken up with, and I all I'd be able to feel was empty. I thought something as big as death would be different, though, and it seemed like it wasn't. I didn't want to die, but I also didn't feel too scared. 

I was afraid sometimes that I would leave my body and never come back, and for the rest of my life I would go just through the motions like I though I was supposed to. Or, more likely than that, I would be gone just long enough to miss the big things, both bad and good. That's the thought that made me feel a bit antsy as I led my capture to my death. I mean, how shitty would it be to live through the last of my life from this distance?

See what I meant by depressing?

I did all of this big thinking, something I avoided at all costs, while leading them through the dark, cobble stone service tunnels that I knew all too well, our path lit only by the occasional ljos-wick light orb that hover over head. My feet found their familiar rhythm, the sound of my footsteps (very squelchy due to the puddle I had stepped in earlier) were drowned out by the others behind me. I'd learned to walk quietly so as to not be caught when sneaking out. I didn't feel the need to tell them this, though.

Not that it would matter. My father was "assisting" them, whatever that meant. Most likely the only two things that I knew to be true at that moment.

My father didn't love me.

I was going to die.

I cursed under my breath. This was why I avoided thinking like this. My mind was a real bummer to be around.

"Are we going the right way?" The girl hissed.

I ignored her. She'd asked me at least three times before, and my answer now was no different.

It occured to me that I could lead them in the wrong direction. But then there was the issue of that dog. And the whole "stab first and ask questions later" policy my royal guard had. An arrow would pierce through her chest before I could even utter the words Bundin Salir and we'd both be dead, the dokkt stjorn would be removed from my neck. A new enchantress would be Chosen and I would be but a twelve-year blip on the history of Musteri.

"Princess? I asked you a question."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm aware."

"Well, are you going to answer it?"

I sent her a look over my shoulder, smiling as I returned my gaze forward. "I'm considering it."

"If you're leading us down the wrong path..."

"You'll what, kill me?" I laughed.

She stayed silent.

"We're not far now." I said, "Don't worry, you'll be able to drive that shard of glass of yours into my chest soon enough."

Again, she said nothing. She didn't seem all that enthused about the prospect of killing me. That was a good sign. Maybe I could appeal to her better nature.

I swallowed. "If you don't mind me asking..." I said as I turned down a corridor. "Why are you so keen on doing that, anyways?"

"I do."

"Huh?" I looked back at her.

She adjusted the strap that cut across her torso. "I do mind."

"What, is this some big conspiracy?" When she said nothing, I continued on. "Have my people finally gotten around to revolting against me?"

Her face didn't move. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

I stared at her for a moment more, noticed the warm the yellow light of the ljos brought out in her dark skin, before looking ahead again. Even in a time like this, my brain couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, and it was starting to get a bit confusing. "You can tell me, you know. I mean, who would I even tell?"

"I said I minded, so could you stop asking?" Her voice was blunt, final.

I laughed a bit, embarrassed. "Okay." Was all I said.

So it would seem that "appealing to her better nature" was out of the window.

Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe her whole, quaint, farm girl persona was just an act to get my guard down. If it was, than it had worked. And if she really was just some cold blooded killer, it wouldn't matter how charming or disarming my smiles were. I would be just as dead.

No amount of smooth talking would get me out of this one. All the tricks I have learned over the years were useless.

But there was one skill that I had yet to master.

I was powerless, I had been right about that. But everything would change if I managed to unlock it, the talisman that had been taunting me for most of my life. I would be the wielder of the dokkt stjorn, the most feared enchantress in all of Heimurinn, queen of Musteri. 

The thought had scared me before, I think. Being so large, having so much power. But I was running out of options. It was either finally get around to growing up now, or die before I had the chance to do so properly.

So. What's it going to be, Ifera?

"Here we are." I said, stopping before a narrow staircase that led up into darkness, growing lighter by the second. I smiled at the girl and the at boy and made sure to keep the dog in the blurry edges of my peripheries to ensure that he never came fully into focus.

I had no idea where to start. Or if it would even be possible. It seemed distinctly impossible, but I guess I was going to try.

The girl gave me a look, not menacing or kind. She was sizing me up, analyzing me. I did the same to her. She was my opponent, I had to tell myself. Not my killer or the bringer of my fate or a simple girl with a pretty face. I might live. She might die.

But I was placing all my money squarely on my shoulders. I'd always done my best betting under pressure.

"Go." She said simply.

I ascended.