THE AFTERNOON SUN beat on them as Dorian and Corbin rode the rest of the way to the Bryn. It glistened off the top of the white snow on either side of the path, almost blinding them with its glare until it finally moved behind the ridge line when they were halfway there. No trees grew this high on the mountain, unlike Dahrkenhill, where fir and spruce trees still littered the landscape.
Reverie had left before them. She intended to slip inside before their approach so she had more time to look. Her horse was left at the halfway mark, and the pair took its reins from there.
Every step knotted Dorian’s stomach more. Like a rope pulling from his abdomen to his heart and up his throat. As though his horse’s hooves were tugging the string from his mouth and making him nauseous. Choking on the nerves he was trying to hold in. Every doubt ran through his head, harder than it had the night before or even on his bad days.
What if he couldn’t kill them?
What if he did the wrong thing?
What if he failed?
He would fail his first task at peace. Fail his new mentor and put an entire race in jeopardy. Fail to keep his promises and fail his Kings and his sisters.
At one point, they paused so Dorian could vomit, and Corbin had to talk him down from the attack in his mind.
“What if I fuck up?” Dorian had whispered on his knees, body trembling and not from the snow. Breaths short and jagged, the cold air pierced his lungs with every rasp. He was falling into that abyss. Vision spinning. Hands unable to grip to his knees because his fingers wouldn’t catch.
“I’ll be behind you,” Corbin assured him as he knelt in front of him.
“What if I don’t know the right thing?” Dorian said fast. “What if I try to burn them, and I end up destroying the entire mountain range? What if—Corbin, what if I hurt you? Reverie? Dahrkenhill? What if I blink and the next moment, I’m the only one left standing in our world? What if—“
“You’re not that powerful,” Corbin said dryly. “Stop giving yourself so much credit.”
And the banter helped an even breath fill Dorian’s lungs. The right corner of his lips shifted upwards, and Corbin wrapped his hand behind Dorian’s neck, fingers curling in his hair.
“I’ll be behind you,” Corbin repeated, his voice softer. “Every step. And Reverie will be watching. We’ve got you.”
A chill ran down Dorian’s spine as Corbin’s fingertips scratched the back of his neck, comforting his panic and slowly calming his nerves. His eyes closed, and he slumped forward until his forehead met his Second’s, and for a moment, they sat while his shakes waned.
Dorian counted his breaths and walked himself through every possibility. Calmly this time.
He might start the burning of the mountain range that night—the only person in their world capable of stopping it being the Nitesh. Or they could all three end up dead and tossed off the side of the Bryn tower dais, bodies shattered and frozen against the snow-laden ground. Never to be found again. He knew Corbin was right. Without help, there was no way he could burn the world on his own in one night.
A deep breath finally filled Dorian’s lungs, and he blew it out audibly.
The nervousness wouldn’t leave him. That string from his abdomen up his throat would remain. But at least the reminder that he wasn’t alone had settled in him.
Corbin helped him to his feet, and Dorian gave him a nervous smile, embarrassed at the number of times Corbin had talked him down by then. “Corbin—“
“Save it until we’re safe again,” Corbin cut him off.
Dorian nodded and gritted his teeth. He blew out another audible breath as he looked up into the landscape. They were almost to the Bryn. Just three ridges away from the final climb. Amber fire cut through the mist from their walls. A cloud almost always enveloped the peak. Dorian remembered how the last time it looked like the sun had been swallowed by the cloud as they entered through the gates.
The Bryn people were known for already being a harsh group. Dorian had experienced their few laughs the last he was there. Although, now that he thought about it, he wondered if he’d ever really met anyone from the Bryn. Or if they’d all been Infi then too.
Remembering the job they were there for made his fists curl. And suddenly, that rope constricted around his heart with his stomach. It numbed his insides into rage instead of panic.
“How many do you think were Infi the last time?” he asked his Second as he stared at the peak.
“All of them,” Corbin replied, looking back over his shoulder.
“How long do you think they’d been duping Draven with their lies?”
“If I had to guess?” Corbin paused to think. “Probably since Parkyr.”
Dorian’s form flickered on his hands. He nearly allowed it to rise to his eyes as he stared at the town for one more minute, and then he looked to his Second.
“If things get out of control, you and Reverie are to leave me behind,” he said firmly. “I’ll meet you at the caves or back in Dahrkenhill. That’s an order.”
