Vassal Sterling D'Este (top 10 books of all time .TXT) 📖

But Etienne did.

Tristan was cold and calculating and cruel, all hidden neatly behind a mask of laughs and crooked smiles. And Etienne hated him for it, for slinking through their little group like a fox in a hen house.

Gods, it was appealing to leave them both behind. He could get more supplies. Possibly find a way to bind Enyo more permanently without Alphonse suffering adverse effects. But what would they do if Enyo took over with just Etienne to face her? She had proven she was more than a match for his strength, and if he used magic on her again… Even if they made it the entire way, alive and well, the other two knew where they were going. Delyth at least would have no trouble beating them there.

Still, Etienne wanted so badly to be away from the others that he did not immediately tell Alphonse his reservations. Instead, he just whispered, “How would we get away?”

“A holding spell? Or… or something to make them …” Alphonse's gaze drifted to Delyth. “Forget.”

Etienne looked down at Alphonse for a long moment, his eyes on hers. He could see the little ridge of water welling up just above her bottom lashes. “I can’t live with Enyo, Etienne. I need to be free,” she said.

He felt himself nodding without considering the consequences of their actions.

How could he possibly say no? Especially when this plan afforded them the possibility of truly getting rid of Enyo? He shuddered. This had been his fault, and if the others got their way…

Well, who knew what that would do to Alphonse?

“I can’t make them forget without better supplies, but I can knock them both out for a long while,” he whispered. “Long enough for us to get away. We’ll take the high path. That’s the one Delyth said was faster.”

In front of them, Delyth and Tristan had just come to some decision. It was now or never.

The priestess turned towards them and smiled at Alphonse, her face warm and gentle. Then Etienne dipped a hand into his pack, unstopping a vial of fermented valerian root to pour over the symbols he was etching into the dirt with one booted foot. Then, he commanded them both to sleep.

As one, Tristan’s and Delyth’s eyes rolled back, their knees softened. Both hit the ground hard, their limbs haphazardly strewn over the bare earth.

Etienne was pale when he turned back to Alphonse. “Come on. We’ve got to hurry.”

❀

Alphonse had to fight the urge to run over to Delyth, even Tristan, and check their pulses, their breath. The healer in her wanted to make sure they were well, but the survivalist in her screamed to run.

Picking up the hems of her skirts, Alphonse did just that.

Abandoning Delyth felt as if it was nearly killing her, but Alphonse knew keeping Enyo, serving Enyo forever… That would kill her.  Alphonse didn’t know if the others had noticed, but she was starting to tire more and more easily. Her dresses were fitting loosely, despite eating her fill. Weight was simply dropping off.

Something was wrong. Not just with her heart and her mind, but her body as well. The healer knew it was Enyo, sapping her health and her strength.

Maybe Delyth would be better off? Her Goddess could remain sacred and powerful, instead of the insane vengeful creature Enyo had proven to be. She could return to her temple life and not have to chase a crazed possessed human through the woods. She could train and battle and…

Be happy. Alphonse wanted that for Delyth as badly as she wanted her own freedom. Delyth deserved happiness.

Little rocks dislodged from their path and scattered down the mountainside as the trail went higher and higher. Her breaths were coming harder and faster as they half walked, half jogged away from Delyth and Tristan.

One hour.

Two hours.

Three.

The sun overhead was starting to meet its apex. Her stomach grumbled, and her feet ached, and her eyes felt heavy, but, still Alphonse pushed on. They had to get away, far enough away, that Tristan and Delyth couldn’t find them again. Couldn’t interfere with putting Enyo back in the darkness to which she belonged.

⥣          ⥣           ⥣

Her heart was heavy. Her eyes were heavy. Her limbs were heavy.

They didn’t dare light a campfire lest it alert anyone of their location, and they hadn’t hunted that day, so all they had to eat was dried trail rations. Alphonse ate hers silently as she looked at Etienne. He seemed as worn down as she was. Neither used to the day’s grueling pace.

“How long will they be asleep?” she asked, the sound of night creatures their only company, and even those quieting as she finally pierced the silence between them.

Etienne sat with his head and shoulders bowed. His jaw worked slowly at a mouthful of dried meat. “Twelve hours?” he said finally, as though unsure. “We need to sleep, Allee. And get an early start. They’ll be after us as soon as they wake.”

Alphonse wondered if Etienne felt guilty for leaving their companions in a pile on the side of the road, and her heart trembled.

Delyth…

The sickness purred, stroked that guilt. Yes. She had just abandoned the priestess. Just shoved her aside and tricked her… What kind of friend was Alphonse, to do that to poor Delyth?

Wincing, Alphonse pressed down hard on the thoughts, on the darkness within. It shuddered but quieted, and she opened her mouth to say something comforting to Etienne. That he had done the right thing, that he was fixing his mistake. That leaving Tristan and Delyth behind was for the best. The only way she’d be freed.

None of the words would come out.

So instead, the healer nodded silently and stood to go to her tent, only to realize no one had set it up for her, as had been the routine these past weeks of travel. And that when she did finally set it up, it would be to