Igaa scoffs. “Go,” she says. “Help him.”
Callyn shuffles forward one step, but she doesn’t let go of my hand. Nakiis hisses at her from the depths of the cave, and Callyn freezes. Her fingers clench so tight. So do mine.
“No,” Nakiis growls. “Kill me or leave. I will not be trapped by another magesmith.”
“I won’t trap you,” says Callyn, her voice breathy. “How would I even begin to—”
“Go,” the scraver says roughly, and I can tell how badly he must be injured, because there’s a weakness to his voice that steals some of the terror from the cave. Just this much conversation seems to leave him panting heavily against the ground. “Or kill me,” he adds, gasping between the words. “That is all you can do here.”
“I do still have my sword,” I say.
The scraver’s black eyes are opaque, barely gleaming in the limited light, but I watch as they shift to me.
— I remember you,he says to my thoughts, baring his fangs again.—You’re the one who tried to kill Tycho.
Callyn’s head whips around to face me.
But I just sigh. “Which time?”
Nakiis’s eyes fall closed.—Kill him, Igaa.
My hand finds my sword hilt, but Callyn grabs my arm, putting herself between me and Igaa.
“Would youstopit?” I say.
But the other scraver hasn’t even moved. She looks resigned. “Please,” she says to Callyn. “Help him.”
— If she is working with this man,Nakiis says,—I don’t want her help.
Igaa sighs. Callyn sighs. For two such different creatures, the sound is remarkably similar. As if realizing this at the same time, the two of them exchange a glance that I can’t interpret.
“I’m not working with Alek,” Callyn says— and there’s a tone in her voice that stings, especially when she lets go of my arm.
Nakiis’s black eyes center on her, and he growls again. “I told you toleave.”
“I know,” says Callyn. She exchanges that inscrutable glance with Igaa again, and then she moves forward, heedless of the growling. Her jaw is set, her eyes fiercely determined. “But guess what? I’m tired of men telling me what to do.”
CHAPTER 9
CALLYN
Back in Briarlock, a fox once got trapped in a broken and splintered part of my barn wall. The wood had pierced its body, and the animal’s terrified snarling spoke to something inside me, reminding me that it might be injured, but it was still a predator that could bite my hand off. Right now, the scraver’s vicious growls are doing the same thing. My heart won’t stop thumping against my rib cage, as if it’s willing to abandon this whole venture whether I want to or not.
But as I walk toward the creature in the shadows, I realize he’s only making noise. His claws have curled against the ground, and every muscle on his frame is flexed as if ready to spring. But really, he’s barely lifted his head.
And then, as I get close, I catch a whiff of the infection.
Thatis almost worse than the growling. My insides want to recoil.
“How long have you been like this?” I whisper.
He says nothing. Somehow, his gaze turns more threatening. Against my will, my feet stop.
“Since the attack on the palace,” Igaa says behind me.
That was weeks ago. I glance back at her, surprised to find that Alek has followed, waiting in the shadows. His arms are folded, but much like Nakiis, every muscle is taut and ready.
I think of that moment we were on the path and Igaa landed in front of us. He tried to jerk me behind him.
