Shenoticed his gaze, peering down at him with concern, followed by confusion.Thefeeling of warmth only increased.
“What?”she asked.
“Thanks,Z,” he said, quietly.
“Sure.”She shook him, managing a quick smile.“Glad to aid my squire.He’s certainlydone enough for me.”
Theyset to packing up their supplies, aiding each other whenever their injuries hamperedtheir progress.The sun burned his skin, weighing him down, the light remindinghim of blood.
He didnot look at Berith again.
Theymade their way down from the pyramid, through the canyons of ossein and metalships, over the hills of sand still falling from the land above.He had to leanagainst her as they walked, and she kept him tucked to her side, holding hercaptain’s cutlass tightly in hand.From the way she moved, he knew she was justas beaten and exhausted as him.Even still, Isaac never doubted she would helphim if he fell.
Theyentered the shade of the cavern, leaving behind a giant skeleton, a field offibrous bone, and a single, lone body, still wrapped in sun-eating robes.
ChapterTwenty-One
TheCost of Silence, Part Two
It wasa squat, ugly thing.
When itcame to the central lair of the necromancer, Isaac had always imaginedsomething more grand, more grotesquely opulent.She had reigned upon the ruinsof this tomb for millennia, all alone in the fallen bones of empire, and,surely, that had meant there was some extravagant nest waiting for him in thebody of the colossus—marble columns, fine carpets, glittering jewels, furs andpaintings, braziers alight with necrotic fire, and, of course, the necromancerherself, splayed on a throne of bones, all the gold of her empire’s conquestsspilling from wall to wall, each of the coins still stained with blood.
Perhapshe had read too many books.
Hecould blame Berith for that.
Now,here, in the boneyard of metal ships, all Isaac saw was a flat, rectangularbuilding, nestled snugly against the bedrock of the cavern wall.The walls weremade of the same gray concrete that paved the floor.The closer he came, themore he was actually able to find some odd signs of wealth—the windows hadglass in their panes, which had been coated in a thick layer of dirt and dust,and there were metal objects on the roof, molded into the same sort of strangeshapes he had witnessed inside the disassembled ships.There were concavedishes, long poles, a few bits of scaffolding capped with spheres.It wasclearly not meant for decoration, but he could not even begin to speculate ontheir function.
Thewalk towards the building had covered more than two miles, winding through thefissures of concrete, shoals of broken ossein, and several sludging rivers ofsandwyrm blood.There was still a sizable portion of rock hanging above theirhead, which the colossus had not destroyed, leaving the barren stretches ofconcrete shaded against the reddening light of the desert.
He wasbreathing very hard.His limbs were weak.His mind was dizzy.He felt that, ifhe stopped to rest now, his loss of blood would cause him to never rise again.Even still, he kept stubbornly limping at Zaria’s side, because it was allright there.
Afterall this time, after all he had suffered, his destination was finally at hand.
He wasabout to meet his father.
“Hold,”Zaria said.She stopped walking, and the world seemed to lurch with her.“Parkyour arse.”
“What—”
Beforehe knew it, he was sitting on the floor.It took all his concentration to keephimself breathing.
Shesquatted over him, reaching for his leg.“You’re wheezin’ like a sow, and yourburn needs cleaning.”
Isaacdidn’t have the strength to argue.Using her wounded hand as little aspossible, Zaria slung off her pack and tossed Soren’s cutlass to the floor.Gingerly, she peeled back the bandages on his thigh, exposing the burn Berithhad given him.Some of his skin came with the cloth.If it wasn’t for theSoldier’s Rest packed between the mottled grooves of flesh, he would’ve beenscreaming in pain.
Zariaretrieved some new bandages, wetting them with a waterskin.“Isaac, you sureabout this?”
They wereless than fifteen paces from the small, concrete building.He listened for anyhint of sound.He heard none.The cavern was silent, save for the occasionaltumble of rock at the ruins of the necropolis.
“Look,”she said.“Let’s just go.”
“Go?”
“Beatsticks.Haul arse.Fuck on off.Something you should’ve been doin’ from thestart.”
“Z, Ican’t—”
