The latter gave her a grim smile. “Always.”
There were no other words exchanged—no introductions or polite phrases. Khayrivven simply shoved the bundle into Lory’s hands and guided her out the door toward the tower farthest right, the one the sun gilded from the west, and from which curious heads turned in their direction at their approach.
Had Lory not already been shaking, she’d certainly do so now, as she recognized Ricca and Solen beside theround, familiar face of an older student whose name Lory had never learned.
They’d come to kill her, and knowing Ricca, she wouldn’t hesitate when given another chance.
On instinct, Lory found Khayrivven’s gaze as he guided her past the tower, onto a narrow path protected by natural rock formations on either side. The slate of the stone glimmered in shades of pink and purple as the sun slipped closer toward the edge of the world.
“How many?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but Khayrivven heard her anyway, his gray gaze falling upon her as he slowed to walk beside her.
“Thirty, perhaps forty.” His clipped tone indicated they still weren’t alone, but his expression had softened to resemble the man who cared for her enough to warn her. “They have been told there will be no consequences if they kill you and that it doesn’t matter how they kill you. There are no laws in these mountains other than those of survival.”
Lory clutched the bundle to her stomach, wondering if the few hard edges she felt would be items she could use to defend herself.
“I’ll take you to your starting point and wait with you until nightfall.” A glance at the pinkish sky drew a frown onto his features. “Then you’ll need to find your way on your own.”
With a sinking heart, Lory took in the vast ascent before her, the sheer expanse of rocks and earth with scattered greenery that didn’t seem to end. “My way where?”
She held on to the edge of a rock, foot slipping on another, and Khayrivven’s arm made her believe he wanted tocatch her should she fall. But this was the Amrin Mountains, and he wasn’t allowed to help her.
Lory didn’t dare think of the consequences if he did.
Slowly, he shook his head, the same devastation she’d witnessed during their ride filling his expression. “Anywhere they won’t find you is a good place to start. You may return to the camp after forty-eight hours, not a minute sooner, or you’ll be killed by the sentries in the towers.” Jerking his chin at the line of defensive structures behind them, Khayrivven followed the path right, turning into a small, flat area shielded by two heavy-leaved bushes.
For a moment, Lory forgot her fear as she marveled at the thick greenery. Her fingers twitched toward a twig, but Khayrivven cleared his throat, demanding her attention.
“Find your way to safety, Lory. Be wary of open spaces, but avoid caves, either. Ashthorn’s students aren’t the only thing to fear in the Amrin Mountains.”
Lory followed his gaze up where the path disappeared in the shadows. “The Criu guerrilla forces? Wildlife? Rock avalanches?” she named only a few dangers instantly springing to her mind.
Stopping at the edge of the flat area, right where the bushes met more rocks, Khayrivven gave a small nod, but his eyes told her there was more. “Don’t believe everything you see. The Amrin Mountains are infamous for messing with your head.” With his left hand, he gestured east, at a wooden platform hidden in the rock formation. “This is the last tower. Don’t cross beyond this point before the forty-eight hours are over.” He hesitated, eyes on thefading colors of the sky, his hand playing with the small knife at the side of his belt. “Don’t engage in combat if you can flee. I’d rather you live than prove your courage.” With each word, his voice became softer, more guarded as he turned his back toward the tower. “Whatever you do, Lory, don’t close your eyes. Don’t sleep. Don’t stay in one place for too long. Don’t trust strangers. Don’t use your magic unless there is no other option—fire is like a beacon in the night. If you use it, they’ll find you faster, and you don’t yet have enough control over it to defend yourself properly. Bursting into a human torch might be an effective way to scare normal people off, but not Ashthorn students; they have magic of their own. A tiny bit of fire won’t send them hurtling for safety.” His chest heaved with a deep breath as he searched her eyes for understanding. “I’m not giving you any orders as hand at Ashthorn, Lory. This is me doing whatever I can to give you a shot at survival. If there has ever been a time to listen to me, now is it.”
Now that Lory knew he was Flame-born, the fire burning in his irises was no longer a mystery. How could she have never realized it before?
“Don’t trust myself, don’t trust others, don’t use magic, don’t stay in one place. Got it,” she rambled, her arms itching to wind around Khayrivven’s neck to pull him in for a kiss because this might have very well been the last chance they’d ever get, but his head shook an inch as if he could read her thoughts from the way her gaze had wandered to the tight-pressed line of his full lips.
“Don’t trust what you see,” he corrected. “Always trust yourself, though, Lory. It’s the one compass no one can take away from you.”
His hand twitched as if reaching for her, but he grabbed the pack from her instead, opening it and pouring out its contents on the thin carpet of half-dead grass at the edge of the platform.
“Blanket, bandages, antiseptic elixir, bread, dried meat, spare shirt,” he narrated as the items tumbled out of the soft brown bag. “Half-full water canteen, bag of dried berries.” They both looked down at the pile of things that might or might not make Lory’s survival easier. “You won’t starve out there, but you’ll need to find water.” He picked up the canteen, shaking it. “Follow the greenery before you get thirsty and fill up the canteen. You may need water for more than just drinking.”
A multitude of scenarios ran through Lory’s mind, putting out fires and washing out wounds, only two of them, and she bobbed her head, wondering if she could tear up the blanket into strips and knot them together to create a makeshift rope, or if she’d need it to keep herself warm during the night. She’d never spent a day in a place cold enough to threaten her survival, but these mountains appeared about as predictable as the leonthors on the stained-glass window in Ashthorn’s mess hall.
“Careful with the berries. Not everything in this pack is meant to make your journey easier.” Toeing the leather pouch and the cloth-wrapped rectangle he’d named ‘cheese’ earlier, he dropped the canteen on the blanket.
For a moment, Lory thought she’d spotted a flicker of metal in the gray folds of the blanket, but when she took another look, the cheese and berries were covering up the spot. Khayrivven shook his head again, almost imperceptibly.
With a cautious glance at the tower within their line of sight, the V etched between Khayrivven’s brows deepened. “Pack this up after I’m gone. We don’t want anyone to think I’ve tampered with your supplies.” Turning to go, he paused, expression softening as he found her gaze, mouth twitching into a half-smile. “Don’t die, Elory Vednis. Ashthorn would become a pretty dark place without you.”
Before Lory could find her words, he prowled away, gait efficient and steps unfaltering on the uneven terrain, and Lory faced west, where the last wisps of pink turned into purple and the purple into night blue.
When she gathered up the contents of the bag and stuffed them back into it, she didn’t dare dig between the folds of the blanket for fear she’d been wrong about that golden glimmer.
Twenty-Eight
It wasabout midnight when Lory stopped for the first time, her breathing uneven from the steady ascent and her legs unsteady with exhaustion. She’d rested once to take a few sips of water and a large bite of the bread, figuring rationing the goods wouldn’t help if she needed her strength to stay on the move. Even with her history of surviving for days with a minimum of food and water in the Dunaii streets, Lory didn’t trust her body when it came to fighting her way through unknown, mountainous territory. There was no hideout she could retreat to, no hiding in plain sight the way she could in a crowd. This was raw, brutal survival in the wilderness, and Loryhadn’t trained for that.
