I have to see this through. No going back now. Stick with the shadow assassin. Get the stone. Save Analla. That’s the plan, though a part of me despises every step I take with him.
This mission is one I can’t butcher, and if that means working with an outlaw to save her life, I’d do it again and again. That much became clear to me on our quiet trek on the bridge.
I catch up to Thane as he nears the edge of the forest, where bushy-topped trees are lined up and built like towers. Though gray light still lingers in the sky, it’s dark between the gaps of the tree trunks.
“We’re not going inthere, are we?” I point to the ominous woods.
“Yes. So stay close.” He clicks his tongue at the horse and ambles forward. Nervously, I watch him disappear into the darkness for a beat before rushing in after him. I can hardly see him or the horse—that’s until a glowing gold orb appears above his head and illuminates our surroundings.
“Thank you.” I sigh, catching up to him.
He looks at me skeptically. “This won’t last if you’re scared of the dark, you know?”
“I’m not scared of the dark,” I retort. “Light is necessary to see where I—or any mortal—is going. Besides, it’s not like I could pack a lantern in my small-ass rucksack.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just keep your voice down.”
“Why?” I ask, lowering my voice.
Thane shakes his head. “The wilder beastials and other dangerous creatures wander through here sometimes, and believe me, they’re much worse than skrellins or any of those men we encountered in Redclaw.”
My pulse quickens as I peer into the darkness that surrounds us. “How much worse?” I whisper.
“‘Skin you, eat your flesh, and then behead you’ kind of worse.” Of course his tone is nonchalant.
I clamp my mouth shut and place a hand on the horse. Not that the horse can protect me, but it’s nice feeling a warm body next to mine. The temperature is dropping the deeper we walk into the forest. Every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig has me flinching.
Thane, however, seems completely unbothered, so I think it’s safe to assume I’m being paranoid. That, or he simply doesn’t care if something comes out of nowhere to snatch me away. He’ll have coins, a pretty new horse, and one less mortal to deal with.
Relief washes over me when we reach a small clearing in the forest where the sky becomes clearer through a gap in the treetops above. He guides us toward a four-story brick building half swallowed in ivy and moss with shattered windows on every floor. It’s clearly abandoned and likely has been for years, yet Thane keeps walking toward it.
He stops next to a tree, securing the horse’s reins to the trunk of it. Then he drops his rucksack on the ground and says, “Wait here.”
“What?” I ask, alarmed. “I’m not standing out here by myself.”
“You have the horse. You’ll be fine. I need to check inside, make sure no one is already camping here.”
I draw in a ragged breath as he enters the building that, mind you, has no door. The darkness consumes him in one gulp. My heart begins beating twice as hard as a chill bites at my skin.
I keep watch.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rub my hands up and down to stay warm while the horse nibbles grass. “That guy is one hundred percent unhinged,” I murmur to the horse. She keeps grazing, and I rub her side, soothed by her calmness and warmth. It placates me enough until Thane returns.
I perk up. “Is it clear?”
“Is now.”
A slow frown takes over my face as I look from him to the leaning building. Hesitant, I ask, “Did you just…?” I make a slicing motion across my throat with my index finger.
He snatches up his rucksack. “There were rats inside. I got rid of them. Or would you have preferred I leave them so they could eat you alive, oh sweet one?”
Irritation courses through me. “Why are you always making threats about being eaten alive?”
“Because it shuts you up.”
I narrow my eyes and throw my middle finger at him.
Ignoring me, he removes the horse from the tree and circles the building. I follow, watching as he places her beneath an awning with a thick bundle of bushes surrounding it. No one can see her from here if they pass by.
