“Ah. Right on time,” a familiar voice says.
My hand shoots to the dagger on my hip. I whirl, and there’s Ero, frozen, a handful of nuts halfway to his mouth.
Is he serious?
“What areyoudoing here?” I give him a sharp look. “And be a little more careful before you sneak up on people, will you? I could have stabbed you.”
“No,” he says.
“I couldn’t have stabbed you?”
He chuckles. “You may be talented with your blades, young lady, but you are notthatgood. Not yet, at least.”
I huff. “Why are you here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“And why is that?” How did he even know I would be here?
“I thought you might want some company,” he says. “Anam’gate is a considerable distance away.” He reaches his bag of nuts toward me. “Want some?”
I grab a handful and eye the old man while chewing. What is he up to? Did he read this in the stars, the way he did in Seniia’s memory? I don’t even bother to ask. Knowing him, I’ll get no good answer.
“Have you decided that the oneness of one is better than the company of two?” he asks when I don’t reply. He looks genuinely curious about what I’ll answer.
“Right now? Yes.”
His hearty laughter rings out, his wide smile crinkling the corners of his eyes until they’re completely hidden. He always seems so carefree. Like Seniia, I realize. They have some of the same easygoing demeanor. The same trust in life. His face takes on a more serious expression.
“Easy, Laïna. I am here to help you.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why would you help me?”
He stares toward the floating island of the Arc in the distance. “Not long ago, I failed another young woman.” He shifts his gaze to me. “I vowed never to repeat that mistake.”
I hold his gaze. Does he know that I know? Because I am certain he is talking about Seniia. “Are you saying you have no ulterior motives?” Somehow, I doubt that.
“No. I do. But they happen to be the same as yours.” He taps my chest.
He knows.
“Fine.” I give in. Truth be told, I need all the help I can get. “Do you have a horse? I will not allow you to slow me down.”
He whistles, and a pristine white gelding trots toward him from where he must have been grazing some yards away.
“Still asking silly questions, I see.”
I roll my eyes at him. “And you are still being annoying.”
He mounts his horse with surprising ease for someone as old as he must be, and I sling my pack over Maeve’s saddle and do the same. Didn’t Seniia mention something about him being as old as the Darkening? I shake my head. There’s no way that’s true.
I squeeze my legs gently, setting Maeve into motion. “Let’s go, then.”
chapter twenty-three
We’ve been traveling for over a week now, and yesterday morning, we crossed the border into Kabar. Ero, to my surprise, has been more helpful than bothersome; his magic boosts the horses, letting us ride farther and faster than usual—and me too, I think. Still, I’m so exhausted from daily travel that the evenings are a blur, and most nights I fall asleep before my head hits my bedroll. Sometimes we find an inn, but mostly we sleep under the stars, wrapped in our cloaks. He pushes me harder than I’d ever push myself, and I appreciate it. He hasn’t explained why he’s helping, and I suspect he never will. I’ve learned he only answers the questions he chooses; the rest are ignored, deflected, or responded to with riddles.
I JOT DOWN A FEW more sentences in my journal, the scratch of my quill against the parchment the only sound besides the gentle rustling of leaves in the quiet woods. Placing down my quill, I glance over at Ero, who continues to sleep soundly in the shade of a large tree with violet heart-shaped leaves. Pulling out my vibrant colored pencils, I quickly sketch the scene before me. He looks so peaceful where he lies, his face serene in the soft morning light.
