“I haven’t seen the armory yet, but I’m sure it’s out here somewhere.” He nudged Jaxon’s arm. “Right? We’ll just hop on down to it tomorrow and get some nice leathers like Isi, then load ourselves up with knives. Maybe a sword or two. Then we can meander to wherever the bonding creatures are waiting.”
“Would you stop?” Jaxon growled. “You’re tired. Stressed. We all are. We need to be serious. Stop acting like a fool.”
Maddox looked like he’d taken one of his mythical knives in the belly, but he shored up his expression and dragged his pack closer, digging around and pulling out a slice of bread. He bit down on it hard and ripped off a hunk, chewing fast.
Jaxon met his gaze and held it for a long moment before looking away.
Bryson still stood at the cave entrance, leaning against the right wall, the stick propped on his shoulder. He watched all of this unfold between glances out at the darkening sky.
“We should split guard duty,” I said. “I’ll take the next shift.”
Respect shone in Bryson’s eyes. “Good idea. Two hours each. I’ll go first.”
With death breathing down our necks, a fierce, primal side had awakened inside me. I’d become a leader, and it appeared Bryson was my second. Other than Maddox, the others seemed fine with it, though I wondered how long that would last.
We divided up the night with Fara volunteering to follow me.
Then we tried to sleep. The air still hung hot and sticky, and the rain drumming against the ground outside didn’t help. My arm throbbed with each heartbeat, making it hard to get comfortable.
Lying on my side, I rested it on my pack, and I drifted into…
I woke when Bryson tapped my shoulder.
“Your turn,” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the snores echoing in the cave.
With a nod, I got up, and he lay down in my warm spot.
I collected his stick and stood at the cave entrance, leaning against the wall like he’d done, watching rain fall in sheets across the jungle. My arm was determined not to let me forget about it, shooting pain up to my shoulder each time I moved it. The skin felt hot and tight, and I didn’t like that. I’d have to do something about it soon, though I had no idea what. I doubted I’d find a healer out here.
Behind me, the others slept. No one stirred. If anyone dreamed, they were quiet about it.
The jungle did not sleep. It creaked. Whispered. Watched.
I gripped the stick tighter. I hadn’t expected to feel so exposed here, tucked beneath a rock ledge with a cliff behind me, but something about the way the vines shifted across the trees not more than thirty paces away made my skin crawl.
Something flitted through the dense vegetation to my right, coming this way.
A predator?
This was it, what I’d expected when I’d insisted we take turns standing watch. The trials hadn’t ended with the massacre in the meadow. This place wasn’t through with us yet. My spine snapped straight. I braced my legs, lifting the stick. Blood roared in my ears.
I peered into the trees, rain slashing sideways through the gap in the canopy, but I found nothing but shadows. I watched for a very long time, seeing nothing other than swaying vegetation.
My imagination must be playing tricks on my mind. I slumped back against the wall.
Until something moved again, a shape cutting across the clearing beyond the vines, its wings outstretched, its silver feathers gleaming darkly in the half-light.
A cinderhawk. My heart skipped.
Trew? I almost said his name out loud before I caught myself.
I tried to tell myself it was just a bird. But those wings, that distinctive flight pattern…
Stop it. You’re losing your mind.
I searched the trees, hoping to see it again. Hoping, absurdly, thathe actually was watching. That he hadn’t let me walk into this brutal trial alone.
The rain swallowed everything, even the bird.
