“Goodbye, Lydrasa.”
“I’ll see you at the dinner party in a few days,” she promised, her eyes glinting like steel. “My father is so looking forward to your visit.”
Like always, she needed the last word.
Energy was building in my veins. I needed a distraction, something to soothe the grumbling, prowling, new beast within me.
Use her,I thought.
Before I knew it, I went stalking through my keep toward the gardens.
CHAPTER 13
ERINA
The cliff’s edge bit into Kavelyn’s palm as she struggled to find purchase among the crumbling rock. The drop below her was a darkened, yawning mouth, hungry forsoulsmorsels that dared venture too close. She was swinging precariously, her arm burning and tiring, her shoulder protesting.
The glow of the green crystal (ask Syndras about this versus gem!) clenched in her other hand cast the cave in an eerie light. She realized her predicament as her heart thundered so hard it hurt.
“Give it up, Kavelyn,” came the deep voice from above. Jeb’s face appeared, handsome and severe. “Toss up the crystal, and I’ll pull you up.”
Never, Kavelyn thought.
“I’d rather drop it,” she told him. She grinned up at him even as her fingers began to slide. “Then what would you do? There goes your millions of vrons, plummeting into darkness.” (Should I use vrons or another currency?)
His lips pressed. It hurt tolook at him sometimes. How foolish she’d been to believe he’d ever loved her.
“You don’t understand,” Jebsaidbit out. “I’m trying to help you!”
“You were only ever thinking about yourself,” Kavelyn breathed, meeting his eyes.
Her heart felt like ice asher fingers slippedshe let go of the cliff. She heard a quick draw of his breath, his hand flashing out for her.
But she was already plummeting into the darkness below, the glow of the crystal lighting her way.
Igrinned, inspiration pulsing like a vein within me. Kavelyn would discover the portal at the bottom of the cave. She would fall through it and wake on the sorceress’s wild island, on the far reaches of Noxily, which could, usually, only be accessed by charter boat.
I reread the scribbled scene, my messy notes lining the margins. I’d need to write a clean draft later.
The back of my neck prickled, and I looked up, my pencil freezing over my opened notebook, perched on my drawn-up knees. There was a sensation that I was being watched, but I didn’t see anyone.
That is, until he made himself known.
Kaldur appeared, ducking beneath the long tendrils of the tree vines that made my own shaded little grove of privacy. I’d missed this place on my perusal of the gardens yesterday, but the moment I’d spied the little path to the grove, I’dknown that I would spend long hours—days, weeks—perched against this very tree. It was beautiful—with a thick trunk the color of moss and long vines for branches that swayed with the gentle breeze, creating a curtain all around me.
I didn’t know how he found me, but I reasoned he must have tracked me down by my scent. Maybe he could find me anywhere, now that he knew the taste of my blood.
Excitement blotted out any of the lingering inspiration I felt for writing the last part of the scene, which would lead to Kavelyn’s final adventure with the feared sorceress Argamin. Next, I’d planned to begin my illustration of Kavelyn falling into the pit of darkness in the mysterious cave, her hand clenched around the crystal, the flash of horror on Jeb’s face that would twist my heart as I tried to capture it. Despite what Kavelyn believed, hedidreally love her.
“Kyzaire,” I greeted, smiling. I’d been in a downcast mood before I’d started writing, remnants of my fight with Velle. But putting my mind toward something meaningful, toward something that always lifted my spirits certainly helped.
I had a dream of binding these stories one day. There was a shop in Vyaan which sold a variety of books and bound leaflets of art. The owner had machines in the back of his workshop, ones capable of printing my stories and illustrations. I’d dreamed of seeing Kavelyn’s adventures displayed in his shop window since I’d been a child at Wrezaan’s. Since I’d first learned to read and write. It was, perhaps, the next thing I wanted most beyond reuniting with Luc.
Kaldur’s gaze dropped to the notebook in my lap. I was sitting against the tree, my knees drawn up, a plethora of different pencils on the cool ground beside me.
“I thought I might not see you until tonight,” I confessed. Even though the wound was healed, I swore I felt my neck heat, the memory of his bite, of the pleasure, like a touch.
“I find myself needing to be distracted, and you, my wilddallia, I find very distracting,” he said, those mirror eyes returning to me. I’d seen one of the sketches I’d made of him as I’d been flipping to a new page in my notebook and realized that they couldneverdo him justice.
