Gareth relaxes as my vision returns. The wyverns still stare at Chastain and the golden creature in his palm—this time a minotaur.
“There’s more, friends.” He closes his palm, and the gold disappears. “I can give you more in Cranthum.” He waves a hand at the mountain of gold and gems. “Enough to make this look like a paltry assemblage of lesser goods.”
The bull chitters, the sound not unlike a squirrel, but deeper, and loud enough that it shakes the ground.
Gareth’s grip tightens. “Get ready to run.”
I could inform him that there’s zero chance of me outrunning a wyvern, but I let it go and watch Chastain.
“Do you consent?” Chastain asks.
Iridiel neighs. “The bull—Calasterno—wants this agreement bound by magic.”
My heart sinks. Chastain can’t make that promise. If he breaks a vow this big, the magic will take his life as payment. The ruse is over, and now we’re in danger because we just lied to the biggest, scariest creature in this part of Arin.
Chastain holds his head high. “If you take us to Cranthum and fight for us, I will reward you with as much gold as you can carry.”
The wyvern chitters again, its green scales glistening.
“I vow it to the magic.” Chastain bows as the entire cavern glows with blue light that dissipates until it’s nothing more than a tendril linking him to Calasterno, and then even that disappears. The deal is struck, and nothing can break it. Not without someone losing their life.
“Oh, no.” I clutch Gareth’s arm as my body goes cold. “You were right. This was a mistake. What have I done?” Regret is a real witch.
“He would have done something equally as stupid to save her.” Gareth’s words are comforting, but I’m too busy falling apart on the inside to care.
“But now he’s lost himself. All because of my stupid idea.” I seem rooted to the stone, held in place by the crushing weight of guilt.
“Calm yourself, my beloved.” He turns and cups my cheek as the wyverns clamber to the cavern’s opening.
“They want to leave now.” Iridiel strides up, his eyes sober. “The sooner they can get thegold.” His emphasis on the last word tells me he knows what’s afoot. “The better for them.”
Clotty pats the nearest wyvern. “How is an old lady supposed to ride this thing? No handlebars. No footholds, no—” She yelps as Parnon walks up behind her, grabs her waist, and lifts her to the creature’s back with ease.
“Hold tight.” He pats the double ridges along the wyvern’s back. “Here.”
Chastain walks past, and I rush over to him.
“Why’d you do that?” I yank on his arm. “That was so stupid! Silmaran wouldn’t approve of you putting yourself at risk like this.”
He stops but doesn’t turn to me. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She wouldn’t want this.”
His profile is stark, but he doesn’t falter. “It’s not about what she wants. It’s what Ineed. I can go to the Ancestors if it means she’s still here, still fighting, still leading. But I can’t let her go first. Not without me.”
Something cracks, and I’m pretty sure it’s my heart. “I’m sorry.”
He finally looks at me. “Don’t be. This is what I wanted.” He points at the setting sun. “We’re about to fly, to touch air that few have ever known. And when we land, I’ll see my beloved one more time.” His smile is warm even as he speaks of his doom.
My eyes water as he heads to the nearest wyvern and climbs on.
“This will work out.” Gareth touches my shoulder.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve learned that sometimes the wrong path leads to the right end.”
“Yeah?” I wipe my cheeks.
