Except, the scent wasn’t there. She took in another breath, her face buried in his shirt. Instead of the expected mint and lemongrass, he smelled of dark loamy earth and something pungently bitter.
“That’s more like it,” Athan said, hugging her back with one arm.
“Dammit, forester,” Jenny huffed. “You about had a sword through your gut.”
“And I thank you kindly for not stabbing me,” Athan replied.
Dnara took a step back, catching his eyes in the lamplight. They were hazel, as expected, but also not? The lamplight flickered a touch brighter and Athan shied away from it. The shadows of his face shifted, and in her grew the feeling of something being not quite as it should be.
“What’s happened?” she asked, convinced he was hiding something. Her mind swam with possibilities, from Lee’s Mill being consumed by flames to himself being injured as he fled the King’s Guard. In a rush of renewed fear, her gaze roamed over him in search of hidden wounds.
“Whatever do you mean?” Athan asked in return with a tilt of the head, confusion knitting his brow. “Are you all right?”
“I... I don’t know,” Dnara replied uncertainly. She cast her lamp out to the shadowed trees behind him and saw nothing but dead white trees. The ravens, too, had gone quiet. Exhausted despite having deeply slept, she lowered the lamp. “I think my mind is playing tricks on me.”
“We’ve had a bit of a fright, is all,” Jenny replied. “Damn ravens haven’t left us alone since we made camp.”
“Oh,” Athan said, glancing up at the trees. “Well, they were here first, I imagine. Probably unhappy you’ve rudely invaded their lands.”
Dnara took another step back from him. The voice was his, but those words... She couldn’t shake the unease crawling along her skin, and as she looked back to the forest, she realized an important piece was missing. “Where is Treven?”
“Hmm?” Athan’s gaze moved from the trees back down to her. “Oh, the mule?” He smiled and opened his arm to her invitingly. “He’s waiting for us at the edge of the knoll. Why don’t we go see him?”
“I don’t-” Dnara hesitated.
“Why’d you leave him there?” Jenny had yet to fully lower her sword.
“He’s stubborn.” Athan glanced to the blackrope and sighed. “Come now, Lilith. Put away your sword and let’s all go see Treven.”
Jenny’s eyebrow raised, along with her sword. “What did you call me?”
“Hmm?” Athan replied, his eyes once again distracted and raised to the tree branches. “To see Treven,” he said, as if not hearing her actual question. “I’d like to take the girl to see Treven.”
“Athan?” Dnara asked, his behavior no longer dismissible as simply being hurt or tired from the road.
“Dnara,” Jenny beckoned. “Come here for a moment, please.”
“Yes,” Dnara said, taking a step back but keeping her eyes on the man in front of her.
“Why, whatever is the matter, girl?” Athan asked, his hand reaching out to her. “Don’t you want to see the mule?”
“No, thank you,” Dnara said.
“Tell her it’s all right,” Athan nearly demanded of Jenny, his face contorting to anger for the briefest second before his smile grew a touch beyond what should be natural.
“I’d rather lick Demroth’s boots,” Jenny spat back, taking Dnara by the wrist and pulling her in close. Stepping in front, Jenny held her sword in both hands. A blue spark began at the hilt and ran along the swords length. “But I dare you...whatever you are, to try and take her.”
“She can’t,” a voice spoke from the trees, and out stepped Athan, his bow cocked with an arrow and pointed straight at the face which mirrored his own so well. “That’s the trick to it all. You can’t simply take her, can you?”
The other Athan’s smile became crooked. “Ah, figured that one out, have you?”
“Took me longer than it should have,” the bow-wielding Athan answered. “But, I figured you would’ve taken her, if you could, as soon as she left the grove’s protection. It was protecting her, wasn’t it?”
“Clever boy,” the first Athan smirked.
“What in name of Faedra is going on?” Jenny hissed as both Athans moved to opposite edges of the clearing.
“She’s not me,” the new Athan answered, the arrow readied with a steady hand.
“An arrow?” the first Athan scoffed. “Really? Perhaps you’re not so clever.”
“Athan?” Dnara questioned from behind Jenny’s shoulder.
“Yes, dear?” the one with the crooked smile answered.
“Stop the act,” Athan said to his doppelganger.
“Fine,” the first Athan huffed with an overly dramatic roll of the eyes. “I swear, you used to be much more fun, boy. Do you have any idea the effort that goes into a transformation? Oh, wait. I suppose you do!”
As he fell into laughter at some unknown joke, the new Athan’s glare darkened further. Dnara didn’t like the way the expression made him look, dangerous and capable of hurting this person without hesitation. As much as she hated to see the expression on Athan’s face, Dnara understood it. This... fake Athan, whoever it was, had hurt her Athan, and deeply. He hated this person for it in a way that takes time to fester.
As Athan stood in silence, arrow raised and pointed squarely at the intruder’s face, the first Athan sighed heavily as the laughter died. “No? Not a single note of amusement? You truly have lost all sense of humor, Athan.” With a shake of the head, he eyed Dnara. “Well, here’s hoping you’ll be more entertaining. I am rather curious, girl. What gave me away?”
Dnara looked between the two Athans, knowing without a doubt which one was real. “You don’t smell right,” she said, slightly embarrassed to state the fact out
