We’d tried having him jump only a few feet across the cave with both of us in his arms. It didn’t work. Rhyan either remained in place, sweat pouring down his forehead from the effort, or he’d jump, taking only one of us, and leaving the other on the floor. Being able to only carry one person at a time had been fine when it was just the two of us. But now we had Meera, and not only did that remove traveling from our options for escape, we also had to consider that Meera wasn’t physically trained to cross a country the way we were. She’d only just barely regained the strength she needed to get through the day after weeks of being starved and terrorized—forget hiking through the wilds and mountains of Glemaria in the snow. She was lucky to walk around the few feet of the cave without succumbing to exhaustion.
“I don’t think we can fly either,” he said. “It’s too risky. There’s going to be gryphons on constant patrol looking for us. He’ll cover every area he can with scouts. We’ll find a way. We always do.” He nuzzled my cheek, making a noise low in his throat. “For now, let me get you cleaned up. And dressed. For as much as I love the feel of your naked body against me …” He winked, and his hand slid down to my ass, squeezing. “It’s too cold for you not to be covered up.” He vanished, the cloak falling flat beside me where he’d been. He returned a moment later with a small washcloth that he’d dipped in the cave’s spring. He pulled the folds of the cloak back, his eyes suddenly heated again as he reverently ran the cloth over my center, and then used a fresh towel to dry me, before he gathered up my pants and slid them back over my legs.
When we were together again beneath the blanket, my back pressed to his front, his hand reached for my belly. The spot he claimed as he slept. “Mekara,” he whispered, snuggling against me.My soul is yours.
“Rakame,”I answered.Your soul is mine.
After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, falling into the deep rhythmic pattern that told me he was asleep.
The wards of the cave buzzed faintly in the background, and the torches we’d posted for light crackled and spat. In the distance, the cave’s spring trickled.
There was a howl of wind every so often, the high-pitched sound mixing with the low growls of our gryphon.
I tried to focus on Rhyan’s breathing. To match his rhythm and join him in sleep. But I couldn’t. Because mixed in with all of the noise, I swore I heard another sound. The hiss of a snake.
Nahashim.
I blinked, straining my ears. The sound didn’t come again. I couldn’t decide if I’d actually heard it, or if it was my imagination. The wards Meera and I had created were meant to keep them out, too. But nahashim always found their prey in the end.
And, so would I. When Rhyan’s father sent nine nahashim to track and capture him, I slew every last one. I’d do it again to keep him safe. I’d relish it.
Just as I was prepared to do anything to rescue Jules.
Rhyan’s chest rose and fell with slow even breaths against my back. He’d snuggled deeper into the covers, so his eyelashes fluttered against the base of my neck as he began to dream. I covered his hand with mine, my fingers lightly stroking up his forearm, as I eyed my stave and the gleam of my dagger in the firelight.
CHAPTER FOUR
MORGANA
I stared down at my feet, delicate and adorned with the golden straps of my sandals. The sand from the beach was sliding between my toes as the waves of the ocean gently lapped against them. The sun was setting as I held up my stave; the silver wood shone with just the smallest thread of gold from a suntree embedded within.
I was still getting used to using one. In the Above, as we now referred to it, we had no need for such things. Our magic, or rather, our will, simply was. But since we’d been cast down, pushed out from Heaven, more focus was needed, a tool to concentrate the mind, a way to direct the magic.
The waves crashed against the shore, rushing with far more ferocity than before. My toes were soaked, the waters were moving faster, the waves higher. The feeling was more visceral than anything I’d known. Everything was more visceral here. More alive. Brighter. Louder. Harsher. The water moved up my legs, darkening the orange color of my skirts. I could feel the material sticking to my thighs. I didn’t like it. A thought while Above would have simply adjusted the fabric for me. We lacked such concreteness there. But here, I’d have to manually remove the offending cloth, knowing the water would immediately force it back against me. So much of this world was like that. Working against you.Unyielding. Disagreeable. A constant wind blowing in the wrong direction. Nothing on this plane was easy.
“Ereshya?” Moriel’s voice was clear in my head.
“By the water,” I thought. “Where you found me yesterday morning.”
A second later his thick, muscled arms wrapped around me from behind.
“It’s been decided,” he said, his voice low. “It’s done.”
I’d been expecting this news, even though some part of me had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. A part of me even now wished for a better outcome.
“Are you sure?” I asked, turning in his arms. My eyes roved over his silky black hair, his dark, endless eyes. They had not changed, maintaining the echoes of eternity they’d possessed when Above. “Are you sure it must come to this?”
His face was grim. “I am sure.”
Darkness filled the atmosphere as he spoke. I could still feel his power, his strength, and the energy of his magic as easily as I had Above. But it was a small comfort against the rest of what we’d lost in banishment.
“The power of the Valalumir must be restored,” he said. “It must be made whole, and returned to its original form before it weakens further. And we must continue to do what we swore we would. Guard the light.” His arms tightened around me. “What are we, if not still bound by our oaths? The oaths we swore are eternal. I don’t care what the others do. Or what the Council says. We shall not be forsworn. Even down here, we remain Guardians of Light.”
My heart pounded at his proclamation. Lifting even as his words resonated. I hated being mortal. Hated the confines of this body. I could feel it trapping my mind and soul, squeezing me into this shrinking prison of skin and bones, caging what was once infinite. It felt wrong to bind such a thing.
But worst of all, I could feel it dying. Rationally, I knew it wouldn’t be for a long time. Maybe even a thousand years if wesurvived the war, but it was dying nonetheless, dying in a way my first form could not. The knowledge made my heart pound too quickly as if it were beating for every breath I would not take. The thought of death, however far off in the future, terrified me. Almost as much as the idea of being killed. Because I could be now. I was mortal. And so was he. And all the others.
Except for one.
