“Am I wrong, though?”
I ignore him, almost glad the mountain is becoming steeper because the exertion shuts him up. I breathe evenly through my nose as the sticky taste of honey lingers in my mouth.
The high altitude makes my ears pop. The sun feels closer, beating down on the back of my neck and making my forehead slick with sweat, yet it seems to only be a struggle for me. Everyone else carries on just fine. Thane walks with so much ease, I’m envious.
After at least forty or so grueling minutes, Kelrean announces, “Only a few more minutes, my friends!”
Thank Orvena.
We travel around a bend in the mountain, and not too long after, we reach a dark tunnel. The edges of the tunnel are seamless, like they’ve been chiseled and sanded by hand. Carved into the edges are runes. It’s so pitch-black within the tunnel that I can’t see a thing.
“Here we are.” Kelrean gestures to the cave. “Frevella’s cave.”
“I don’t get good energy from a person living in a cave,” Algar mutters.
Just then, purple flames flicker, illuminating an endless tunnel. They hover close to the walls, floating on their own like orbs.
Rynthea starts forward, but Kelrean sticks out a hand and presses it to her chest to stop her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Rynthea quirks a brow. “Is she not inside?”
“Most likely, but my father mentioned that no one should enter her cave without permission.” The prince bends down to pick up a jagged rock and tosses it toward the mouth of the tunnel. Before it can reach the darkness, though, the rock shatters with a burst of purple ripples and rains to the ground in shards.
Rynthea looks shocked as she steps back next to Kelrean. “I appreciate the heads-up. Should we call for her, then?”
“No need. I’m sure she knows we’re here. I’ve heard she’s a bit eerie that way.”
In the brief moment of silence that stretches over us, I spot a figure at the end of the tunnel. Purple light dances on the edges of their frame. Just as quickly as I see it, it vanishes.
My heart races faster. “What was that?” I whisper.
Algar narrows his eyes, looking harder at the tunnel.
Then it happens again. The figure appears, but it’s closer this time. Thane slowly reaches for one of the swords on his back, unsheathing it and bringing it to his side. Rynthea squares her shoulders, tightening her grip around the handle of her scythesword.
The figure, I realize, is a person. And they are moving closer with each reappearance until, finally, they’reright here—right at the mouth of the cave with a cloud of gray smoke billowing around them.
“Why are you on my property?” The voice behind the smoke comes out as a thick croak.
“We’re here to see you, Frevella.” Kelrean steps to the front and holds out the scroll to the mass of fog before him.
Frevella. It’s her.
She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Prince Kelrean Shattore of Bernwood.”
“Yes.” He nods as the scroll floats from his hand to Frevella’s. “It is.”
“With guests,” she notes with a hint of agitation, her spindly fingers clutching the scroll.
“Withharmlessguests,” he assures her.
“You know to only speak the truth to me. One member of your crew is not as harmless as you claim.”
Kelrean peers over his shoulder, setting his gaze directly on Thane. Out of instinct, everyone else does, too.
“Seriously?” Thane frowns, glaring at everyone. “Why are you all looking at me?”
Everyone looks away, clearing their throats or shrugging.
