He dips his chin in acknowledgement. His head lowers, and I feel his mouth consume me. It’s slow, torturous, like he’s savoring it. And I try to hold out, to hold on. My hands dive into his hair, pulling him onto me over and over, my eyes never leaving his.
But the way he looks on his knees for me, the way his tongue feels wrapped around me, has me coming within minutes.
It’s a rush and then…nothing.
His mouth drags off of me, leaving me cold and bereft.
“Promise,” I say again. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”
He turns, and his eyes meet mine. Sad, aching. “Yes, my Everest. I will come home to you.”
Why does that sound like a lie?
twenty-nine
RATHYN
The tribunal is an ancient site, one that has been used for generations. It is a frigid place, the walls bright white, the floors nothing but the milyn stone mined from the singing mountains. It is cold beneath my feet, uncomfortably so, but I show no one how I’m feeling.
I already feel too much.
It is dangerous, what Everest has unleashed inside of me.
I stop in front of a wide door, ancient Eretharian proverbs carved into the ancient stone. They’re a warning, a promise, to those who enter.
You may not come out the same.
A guard stands before it and dips his chin in deference.
This may be the last time I receive such a greeting. There is a chance my bond with my human—with my Everest—will cost me everything. It is a price I’m willing to pay, but I can’t help but heed Eissa’s warning.
Long ago, Eissa grew too close to his human, and they took him away. He was terminated, and Eissa was left to live alone.
I cannot let that happen with Everest. I will not.
I hear a hum, and then a dull bell ringing in the distance, and the guard moves, opening the door with a grunt.
It scrapes along the floor, and before me, I see the panel of judges awaiting to hand down my fate.
I step toward them. Eissa, Jyrion, Izar, and the high warlord, Zynth.
I meet their stares but make no outward expression. This is not the Vyastil way. So different from the humans, especially Everest, who wears everything on his face.
I always know exactly what he is feeling, except when he is trying to hide from me.
And I do not like when he does that.
I see the pedestal before me, and I step onto it. The back snaps closed, and I know that I’m trapped, forced to face my fate.
I conjure up Everest in my mind for courage and then meet everyone’s stare.
“Rathyn of the Dark Vale, do you know why you’re here?” The high warlord asks, his low voice ringing around the room.
I think about what Everest would say to this, a rude retort, and I hold back my smile. “I do.”
“You have broken the boundary lines of our world. You have allowed a human unaccompanied into the Outerlands, threatening the no-harm treaty we have with the humans.”
I say nothing. The treaty, as Everest would say, is bullshit. It is for show. Many humans have been taken against their will. For eons, long before the Vyastil had control of portal technology, our world has been visiting theirs.
