Arawn’s face flushed with red. ‘Because family is complicated. And sometimes, the ones closest to us can hurt us the most.’ He sighed. ‘I warned you about asking questions. Let’s go.’
‘Manners wouldn’t hurt, for a woman standing at death’s door,’ Ezer said.
So he sighed, held out a hand as if to help her up, and added, ‘Please.’
She didn’t take it.
And as she followed Arawn out of the library, she couldn’t help but stop on the threshold and glance back at the books, feeling like she was seeing them all for the verylast time.
The walk upwards to the Aviary was just as harrowing as before and, it turned out, far worse with a full stomach. By the time Ezer clambered to the top, frozen to the bone and nauseated from how high they were, she threw up on Arawn’s boots.
‘You’re weak,’ he said, when she stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her dark sleeve.
‘And?’ Ezer asked.
He looked more annoyed than disgusted as he kicked fresh snow over the mess.
‘And you should equip yourself with something to combat that weakness. A training routine, for starters. So you can move swiftly on your feet when you’re minding the raphon.’
‘And if it grows hungry and decides to make a meal of me?’ Ezer asked.
He balked at her.
‘A joke,’ she said, ‘which I am beginning to learn is wasted on you. Or do you only save your fun side for Absolution?’
He turned away, not looking back as he said, ‘I was under the impression that jokes had to be funny.’
The Aviary was already in full swing with the preparations for battle. This time, the others who had ignored her now stared as she and Arawn entered.
She wanted to shy away from their gazes. Instead, she kept her chin high as she followed Arawn, even when she passed by Zey, who sharpened her blade as she locked eyes with Ezer.
‘Careful, Wolf Bait,’ Zey whispered, as if she knew all Ezer’s fears. ‘The pup likes to dine on the scrawny ones the most.’
She winked as Ezer turned the corner, following Arawn through a black door with heavy bars on its rounded window, like an entrance to a castle’s dungeons.
‘The catacombs?’ she asked.
They walked down a single rounded tunnel lined with blue torches. The ground slowly sloped downwards, until it was so cold, she could see her breath forming before her in clouds. Frost glistened on the walls, reminding her for a moment of the labyrinth inside her dreams.
‘Couldn’tafford to heat the place, I guess,’ Ezer grumbled.
‘Raphons nest in the Sawteeth. They like it cold,’ Arawn said. ‘Did you read anything of use in the hours you had to prepare for tonight? Anything to set you up for survival, Minder?’
‘I ate,’ she said. ‘My last meal.’
He stopped walking. ‘Would it be so bad to consider yourself capable? To consider that you just might survive in there? The fact that you’re still here, alive and well, is proof that you must have some gift the others do not.’
She was surprised by how stern his tone was.
‘Positivity, Minder, goes a long way towards survival. Every soldier knows that.’
‘Says the king of scowls and snarls,’ Ezer said to his back. ‘And scars upon his face.’
‘Indications that I have, indeed, survived. And I intend for you to as well.’
The corridor opened up to reveal the exit. A runed portcullis gate was raised over their heads.
They nodded to the Sacred standing guard – Ezer noted the runed crossbow leaning against the stones – and entered into what looked like some kind of enormous cave lined with iron cages, built right into the rocky walls and also lit by blue magefire torches.
