It’s an intimate action – proprietary. I pull away, but he keeps his hand there, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Astrophel notices. Frowns.
‘We’re almost there.’ Blayze nods towards the summit. ‘It’s almost over.’ A grin lights his face, and I know he’s not just talking about our quest for the lost sceptre. He means all the pretence can stop. He can break things off with Maris, clearing the path for…
My chest locks, but I force an answering smile. ‘Soon.’
Soon, I’ll have to tell you everything and you’re going to hate me.
‘I can’t wait.’ His smile shifts, turns conspiratorial.
I avert my eyes and wriggle out of his grip, sidling closer to Tansy. When Blayze smiles at me like that, I can’t help remembering the feel of his lips on mine, the heat of his arms drawing me tight against his—
Arden.
The warning comes out of nowhere. I spin round, scanning the perimeter.
The others are staring. From across the circle, Astrophel takes my hand. His eyes are watchful as a hawk as they scrutinise my face, but there’s something calming, centring, about the gentle pressure of his fingers. ‘Everything all right?’
I nod. There’s no point worrying them. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, after I tell them about Noelani’s second message and my vision in the mooncrystal. But here it is again: that unmistakable feeling of dread, rising upwards like strangling hands from the pit of my stomach. Those precious, carefree hours of respite from this relentless gnawing unease, courtesy of the Fade Falls, are little more than a distant memory.
Arden is close. Watching. Waiting. I dip my gaze to the frosted ground as dots of light crowd my vision, stretching to threads. I reach for them, willing my brandsong to speak to me, for the threads to weave into patterns I can read. Where is she? Why doesn’t she make herself known? But the threads shrink from me. Arden, like Blayze, like all the Oralians, is a stone wall my second-sight can’t penetrate.
I draw another ragged breath of thin, bitter air into my aching lungs and look to the heavens, to the faint outlines of the full moons rising in the milky twilight. My fingers curl to fists. Tonight, I’ll see if the mooncrystal can reveal anything more to me about Arden’s intentions, and about my mother too. Yes, there are risks, but not knowing is unbearable.
I believe my mother is still alive. I feel her presence at the outer fringes of my mind – a warm glow, but weakening. But my visions won’t settle into anything definite. The mooncrystal is my only hope for a shred of good news to cling to, something to drive me up those steps to the entrance to the caves.
Astrophel gestures to the last ice-cabin, a short distance ahead. ‘It’s freezing. Shall we turn in for the night?’ He looks to me for assent.
It’s a small gesture, but a powerful one. Acknowledging my authority.
I nod. It’ll be good to have a few hours rest ahead of my assignation with the mooncrystal. Astrophel’s eyes linger on mine an instant too long. I don’t mean to do it, but my vision clouds again and his aura starts to streak around him: a halo of golden light. My stomach grips with a cold, sick feeling, and I close my eyes to banish the memories this stirs of Tansy and Glade’s parting at the council meeting. I whisper another prayer to my brandsong. Only, this time, I beg for its silence.
Some things, I’d rather not know.
*
THEBRISKMOUNTAINair whistles through holes in the cabin roof.
‘This one’s in pretty rough shape, eh, Fifi?’ Blayze cranes his neck to survey the damage, ruffling Serafine’s head as she kneads his shoulder with her talons.
The cabin has a musty odour. Cracks vein its icy walls; thick cobwebs lace every surface. It’s square rather than round, and has only one floor, empty save for something that was perhaps a wooden bedstead before it weathered away.
Astrophel sighs, settling his pack on the floor to the right of the door. ‘Better than nothing.’
Delphine and Maris follow his example. They’re lying atop furs in the centre of the cabin, heads pillowed on their packs, before I manage to peel my gloves off again and dress my sores. Neither of them looks well; their skin is grey-tinged and wizening around the lips and eyes. Delphine’s hair is that ominous ink colour again, and I can’t help thinking she should have stayed behind with Briar, out of harm’s way.
Tansy, busy fashioning a makeshift pallet beneath the cabin’s one small window, also looks worn – though I’m not sure whether her pallor and strained expression are the result of mountain-sickness and exhaustion, or whatever trouble is weighing on her mind, darkening her aura.
I’ll speak to her later, try to get to the bottom of it. But first… rest.
Claiming the corner closest to the door, I curl around my pack and shut my eyes. I’ll have to move in a minute, spread furs beneath me to guard against the chill, but Stars, it feels good to let my tight, aching muscles unwind.
Serafine croons from the corner opposite where Blayze is setting up camp. She’s floundering almost as much as the Islanders at this altitude, the ruddy glow of her plumage virtually extinguished. She’s so weak and I’m about to ask her to take on an entire flock of night-birds.
Blayze gathers Serafine gently from his shoulder, cradling her like a baby. She tries to resist at first, straining against his strong, scar-flecked fingers, but the mountain has drained the fight and pride from her. She gives up, falling limp. Blayze nestles her against his chest, swaddling them both in furs. The soft cries continue, but Blayze rocks her, stroking her head, till the rhythmic movements lull her to sleep.
I feel a stab of jealousy. What wouldn’t I give to be pressed against that warm chest, enveloped by those strong arms? Blayze looks up, catches me staring at him. He smiles. A tender, private smile just for me.
I smile back, but the lump in my throat threatens to choke me faster than the fetid mountain air. I look away.
