It was all a trap.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Aeri
The Light Mountains, Khitan
Dying is strange. Overall, I don’t recommend it.
I drowned in the twilight. I know I did. I struggled under the surface, holding my breath for as long as possible, but eventually, I inhaled the water. A burning pain like I’d never felt before filled my chest, and then I woke up walking on the Road of Souls—the pathway that leads to the Kingdom of Hells. I only stopped because I heard Royo’s voice begging me to stay. Next thing I knew, I was back. Soaking wet and throwing up mouthfuls of water. I was alive, thanks to him.
But now I’m not sure if we will see another sunset together. It’s late morning, and we’ve reached the foothills of the Light Mountains.
We tie our mounts to trees close to the edge of, but not in, the forest. I haven’t seen Dia since I fed her after supper last night, but I hope she stayed where she’ll be safe. I hope she’s sleeping cozily somewhere. I hope I will see her again.
Royo and I have to hike on foot to find the nests. Once we do, we have to steal an egg from a creature that will happily eat us if we’re caught.
I put my hand on my throat, feeling very mortal. I can freeze time and run, but my power has limits. If one of those birds comes after us, how will I get Royo out alive?
My heart twists as I realize I won’t be able to move him on a mountain. If I push him off the side, we’ll fall and likely both die.
I can’t chance losing him. I’ll have to convince him to stay here.
“Maybe I should go alone,” I say.
He stares at me and blinks a couple of times. “Are you out of your mind?”
I sigh. That went over great. But maybe I can get him to see my logic.
“I know I can move silently,” I say. “Can you?”
He looks to the side and frowns. If we learned one thing from Lake Cerome, it’s that, no, Royo cannot.
The amarth are nocturnal. The best chance we have is to sneak up on them during the day, when they’re asleep, and then kill one quickly and steal the egg beneath it. Which, of course, won’t work if one of us is stomping around like a bee-stung ox.
“I’ll get you close,” he says.
I guess that’s the best compromise. Especially since I’m not sure where the nests will be.
The priest helped me with a text that theorized on the location. The amarth are so large, they’d need old, mature trees to support their weight, so they won’t be at the summit or on the windward side of the mountains where there are scant trees. But as animals, they’d want high ground to avoid predation of their young. So the foothills are out. The writer thought that the birds build their nests not in trees but in the mountainside itself, right above the tree line.
There was no confirmation, though. Apparently, everyone who has been close enough to see the nests hasn’t lived to describe them.
That’s not comforting, but we don’t have a choice.
I’m certain that if my father lives, he will torture and murder Royo in front of me. And I’m not going to let death take him from me—in a strictly-friends way, of course.
Royo slings a pack over his shoulder, and we start hiking. If we can’t find the nests quickly, we’ll have to make camp in the mountains. Which means sleeping in a tent and hoping they don’t find and eat us overnight.
So, it’s pretty important we find the nests well before sunset.
We trek for a while, keeping an eye on the summit. Luckily, the winter outfit I bought at the dress house is keeping me warm. I have a brand-new reason to hate the cold, but everything but my face is nice and toasty. Royo is sweating.
“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs.
We’ve been quiet so that we don’t wake the amarth, but there’s been no sign of them.
“Sure,” I say.
