Corbin looked like he might laugh. “You stay, I stay, Prince,” he said. “As will Rev.”
They set off again, and this time, a wave of nervous anger filled Dorian’s veins.
This was his first true task.
He thought about what Draven would have done if he’d known the entire town was Infi. How enraged it would have made him. Any mention of Infi had sent Draven into a spiral. Their very existence had haunted him.
It made Dorian’s determination harden in his numb chest.
Snow buckled in the echo of an avalanche on the next mountain after they crossed the first ridge. The bellowing noise of it bent and cracked the still air louder than thunder. Dorian flinched, his horse unnerving beneath him. He leaned down to comfort her, telling her “Shhh…” as Corbin did the same with his. Pillows of the white powder spilled down that mountain to a sharp ledge before bursting into clouds in the air.
The mountains went silent once more.
Dorian exchanged a wary look with Corbin, and he knew they were thinking the same thing.
If that avalanche had been a warning from the Ghost of Fire.
As they approached the Bryn, Dorian’s senses heightened. His form stayed on edge, making his nailbeds black, but not spreading any further. Every huff of his horse filled him as its hooves beat over the crunch of ice in the mud on the path. The dense cloud he’d seen earlier surrounded them as they climbed the last stretch. Torchlight flickered through it. He could just see the shadows of the great walls and the high tower dais on the very peak.
His horse bucked a few times, unsettled with the apparent danger they were walking into. They ascended the last stretch, and the fog finally thinned. Sentries lined the wall just as they had when Dorian and Corbin visited last time. Crossbows in their hands.
"Stick close,” Dorian said to Corbin without looking over at him. “Make sure I don't do anything stupid."
"Behind your every step," Corbin promised.
Three sentries paused over the gate and watched them approach. Bolts loaded. The gates opened, and the Infi parading as their Elder's Second came through the double doors.
Dorian finally looked over to Corbin, and together, they dismounted their steeds. Snow crunched beneath their boots. Warm air huffed from his horse’s nostrils as Dorian came around to her front and rubbed her cheek. He could see people moving about inside. Carrying wagons and wearing great cloaks over their bodies. Wooden wheels creaked as one such being limped by, his wagon behind him, two goats trotting at his sides on ropes.
"Prince Dorian," the woman called out, her arms wide. "We were not expecting you."
Dorian didn’t respond immediately. He considered the woman. Considered her every step and sway of her outstretched arms. Every flicker of her gaze over him and Corbin. Dorian grasped the reins and rubbed his horse’s nose as he responded.
"I have been in Dahrkenhill a few weeks facing trials for the death of the Venari King—“
"Yes, we heard about that," the woman interjected as she slowed before them. "Did you come here for your final trial?"
"We came here on orders of your High Elder," he countered firmly. Another cart moved past the doors, slower this time, and Dorian eyed the bent-over being as he passed by. "I have already proven my innocence and worth in the eyes of your Architect and Lesser One,” he continued, still watching. “I will stand no trial here."
"Then why did my High Elder feel need to send you?" she asked, shifting, hands clasping in front of her.
Dorian’s eyes moved to the woman, and for a moment, he paused. Wind whipped through his hair and swirled his throat. Corbin’s horse bucked slightly, and Dorian could feel Corbin’s eyes on him as he stepped deliberately in front of his own steed.
He could smell the death of Infi radiating off this woman.
Felt the necrosis.
A dangerous adrenaline settled in his core.
Plan, bedamned.
"Came here about your Infi problem," Dorian said.
"Dorian—“
Dorian cut his eyes over his shoulder, knowing Corbin was about to say something about his abandoning their plan, but Dorian was done pretending. He was tired of tip-toeing around the problem.
And he wanted them to know he wasn't there to be played with.
