A few murmured, but no one argued.
“We’ve all learned the hard way that our leaders were not who we thought they were,” Einan said into the silence. “Our minds are open to new allies, lest we find ourselves with no one beside us at all.”
Leif looked at the elder Withered and nodded.
A few of the others made quiet signs against ill fortune, while others murmured their support. It was better than outright rejection. Or hostility.
Keres snapped her kit closed and straightened. “Whatever it was, it saved us time and a good deal of pain. Can you walk?”
“I can.”
“Good,” she said briskly, already shifting back to business. “Because we shouldn’t linger.”
Her abrupt words seemed to break whatever spell the others had fallen under. They began to move, to gather their weapons and supplies and murmur amongst themselves.
I exhaled, glad for the reprieve.
Still, Rydian remained at my side, and I was glad for that too. For however long it lasted.
Daegel glanced between us. “Orders? Burn the carcass?”
“Leave two to set it alight once we’re clear,” Rydian said. “Eirnan, you said there’s a place to rest ahead?”
“A cavern not far,” Eirnan answered, torch lifting. “It will provide cover against anything else lurking here.”
Rydian nodded. “Let’s move.”
Even after Einan strode away, Rydian lingered. I looked up and found myself held still by his gaze. Too close. He was standing way too close. With an arm around my waist. When had that happened? And the way he was looking at me—I’d rather be poisoned again than resist that look.
He reached up and brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “I thought—” His voice frayed, then hardened.
He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, I glimpsed true fear. Only for a moment before it was gone again. Not gone, I realized. Hidden. Tucked away so no one else saw it. Or to pretend he hadn’t felt it himself.
“I’m fine,” I assured him again, gentler this time.
He nodded as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Stay close.”
“I intend to,” I said, thinking of the Withered who’d looked at me like I was a demon.
He stepped away to confer with Daegel and Eirnan, shoulders squared, shadows still moving restlessly around his boots.
I inhaled, feeling the serpent’s life force thrumming faintly under my skin. Then I sheathed Dorcha, drew a steadying breath, and fell in with the others as we pressed deeper into the dark.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rydian
We camped in the belly of the mountain, beneath a ceiling so high even our torchlight couldn’t find it. The air still smelled of smoke and ichor. The creature’s carcass was burning somewhere behind us, its poison turned to smoke that clung to the passages. The stench clung to everything—metal, skin, memory.
The Withered made their camp in a shallow alcove off the main tunnel. The fire they built was small, the flames flickering unsteadily in the stuffy air. Too many of them were whispering. I could hear the words even when they tried to be quiet—Makarios. Demon-blessed. Hel’s flame.
They’d seen her power. The way the rune on her throat had glowed like something divine—and dark. The way the poison had fled her veins when she drank the serpent’s lifeforce into her own.
I’d felt it in my bones—the depth of her power. The breadth of it, how many other gifts were still dormant and had yet to emerge. I’d underestimated her back at the mountain cabin. When she’d asked to open the gates to the MidnightCourt, and I’d ruled it out as far too dangerous. Decided she was too weak to handle it. Maybe I’d been wrong. Then again, a maybe was still not enough to change my mind. But today had proven she would be ready—and soon.
Even my shadows had winced at the dark magic inside that serpent beast. But Aurelia had drunk it in like it was nothing more than a refreshing sip of water. She’d alchemized its darkness into healing.
She truly was the gods’ Chosen. The hope of the realm.
