Thaden nods. “My village is populated with those who have escaped other places and wish for a new life. I’ve learned from them—everything they were willing to teach me.”
I consider the circular shape of the corridor and the way it gently curves back and forth. It certainly makes me imagine an enormous serpent hibernating within it. And then slithering out again, changing as it goes, leaving the corridor behind it like a shed skin…
I shake myself, focusing on Thaden’s eyes.
His smile softens, and he continues before I can reply. “You can see better now. I can tell because you’re looking at me.” His eyes narrow just the slightest. “For the first time in hours, actually.”
Looking at him is a dangerous thing.
Too easy to get drawn in by his strength and power.
Too easy to be beguiled.
Too easy for me to believe his openness and doubt that he’s my enemy…
He inclines his head toward the corridor. “Let’s go.”
He turns away, breaking our gaze, and I draw a shaky breath.
Gallium draws level with me and I make myself focus on the power around him. Calm and steadfast. Honest and true.
I tell myself I know what I’m doing.
I know the path I have to take.
Soon enough, the downward slope through the corridor eases and the tunnel lets out onto level ground.
Cold wind buffets my hair, bringing with it the scent of campfires and ash before settling down again.
The corridor hasn’t let out far enough east that we can avoid cutting across at least some part of the encampment, which extends from this side of the valley all the way to the base of the mountains on the other side.
Countless white tents have been assembled across the plains, and even though it’s past the middle of the night, there is a hum of activity.
Guards are positioned at intervals all around the space, and I’m grateful for my enhanced eyesight.
No matter their Queen’s orders, all of them are our enemies.
While Thaden takes the lead again, proceeding more cautiously than I thought he might, Gallium continues to walk at my side.
I don’t miss the way he has positioned himself so that he is between me and the nearest fae guards.
He is now gripping his hammer in such a way that his closed fist rests around its head while the handle is tucked up under his sleeve.
His hand is so big that the hammer isn’t visible.
My hand is smaller, so I can’t conceal my hammer that way. But then, I’m short and petite, so I expect that the fae won’t see me as much of a threat, anyway.
And it’s true that I won’t be.
I may be nimble and know how to evade a punch, but judging by what I saw of the fae’s combat training over the last few days, any one of them could knock me flat in seconds, hammer or not.
The four guards nearest to us are certainly wide awake, their sharp eyes following our every step. I’m not surprised that all four guards are female. Only women are allowed in their army.
They’re all wearing raven-black armor that blends seamlessly with the tops of their boots so that it appears as if they are wearing a single suit from their toes up to their necks.
Every fae warrior carries weapons that conform completely to their armor. They call themliquid blades,and we won’t know exactly what kinds of weapons they are—swords, daggers, or something else—until the women pull the blades from their armor.
The style of their hair is also uniform, each one wearing their hair in a single, tight braid, but that’s where the similarities end.
