Forging ahead, I don’t bother trying to hide my footsteps anymore. Dust stirs up with each heavy footfall as I pass by the thinning trees, until for the first time in this court, I get a view of something other than the seemingly endless forest that encompasses nearly everything.
The stars in the sky here blend together into a haze, brightening the night sky into a muted illusion of dawn. It’s similar to that stage of early morning, where night still has its claws dug in, refusing to acknowledge the sun will rise in just another couple of hours.
As far as the eye can see, the base of the small mountain range appears like it’s formed of solid ash. Fissures split the earth haphazardly, and glancing down into the darkness, there are a series of pitted pockets in the rock walls on either side. Boulders block some of the view, growing larger as they flank a path into a valley leading between two of the larger mountains.
It looks like all it would take is a harsh breeze to erase it all forever.
Carefully, I watch my step as I give a wide berth to the nearest fissure. If the ledge is even half as unstable as the bark on that tree, then I don’t want to get within ten feet of the thing. My shoes sink almost completely into the dust like the ground is made of memory foam, and I pause to lace them tighter just to err on the side of caution.
“The fuck are you doing?” Muttering the words to myself, I strain to pick up the sound of literally anything.
After the absence of anything for so many hours, it’s starting to drive me a bit mad. Every time I swallow my own spit, it’s deafening. And this place just adds another layer to absorb any sound instead of echoing around the mountainous terrain.
“Shit, you ever want to murder someone, this is the place to do it.”
Yet, like the suicidal bastard I am, I don’t turn back. Even a desert doesn’t stretch on forever despite it feeling that way when you’re thirsty. If I keep pressing on, then eventually I’ll make it out the other side of the wasteland. And with as clear as my tracks are, it’ll be completely transparent that I’m not alone long before anything gets the drop on me.
Unless it can fly.
Flicking my gaze upward, there are just as many pits studding the mountainous terrain that could be used as shallow caves. “Fuck.”
Maybe it’s the burnout, but the thought of being attacked by some soul sucking harpy doesn’t make me nearly as scared as it should. Depression for the win; death starts looking like a rewarding nap instead of a punishment.
Heading for the valley, I just focus on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing all thoughts of food from my mind rather than let them torture me. Of all of my injuries, my head and leg are the hardest to deal with. Thankfully, the bullet that the asshole put through my thigh went clean out the other side, and the fucked up ring I managed to conjure wasted no time cauterizing that wound along with the rest. A splitting headache is still shacked up in my skull, and I doubt it’ll be going anywhere until I get some solid food in me and a week of sleep.
A small crunch has the air seizing in my lungs, whipping my head to the right as the sound of something slithering through the ash has me crouching, fumbling around for at least a solid rock that could be used as a weapon. But all that meets my fingers is the fine powder of dirt.
With a slow breath, I brace myself, standing and taking a step forward to crane my head around the massive boulder to try to lay eyes on whatever’s lurking so close. If I’m going to be a basilisk’s breakfast, I’m at least going to face it with a shred of dignity.
Knowing my luck, these hills have eyes, and my death will be broadcast around both courts. Not about to have Dorian calling me a little bitch for running with my tail between my legs while sharing some popcorn with our girlfriend.
The shadows are darker here, but there’s still no mistaking the monster in front of me. “God-fucking-damn-it, Luce!” Hissing out the words, I break into a sprint, skidding to my knees in front of the murderous bastard. I respect the asshole, but that doesn’t make him less of one sometimes.
Threadbare roots coat his body, strengthening in color and size the closer they are to his body. The sections shooting out from the ground still appear brittle, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re sucking the life out of the man.
He’s passed the fuck out, not even so much as a twitch or a grumble as he’s being drained, and I imagine he hasn’t woken up since we got here. Victor did a hell of a number on him, and if he’d been conscious, there’s no way he would have just rolled over and given up. He’s better than any of us in that regard.
“Alright, you damn princess.” Ripping the roots out at the base, I start tearing through them and chucking them aside.
They flay the skin on my palms, and once the blood coats them, they forget about trying to drag Lucien underground with them and turn towards me, curling up my arms and over my legs.
“You just going to lay there, sleeping beauty, or fuckinghelp?!”
I get no response and turn my efforts onto ripping the plant leeches off, chucking them as far away from me as possible. When I get a leg free, I kick Lucien in the side before taking a seat, all hopes of a polite wakeup call forgotten at this point, no matter how bad of shape he’s in. With my current condition, there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to carry him out of here. If Lucien doesn’t wake up, his ass is staying put and I’m going to have to set up camp on top of the land that’s more starved than I am.
A soft groan morphs into a steady stream of curses, but by the time Lucien actually comes to, I’ve finished freeing myself and am glaring at him with a mixture of annoyance, and utter relief.
“What happen-“ He cuts off as his eyes fly open and he tries to sit up too quickly, leaning over to puke. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he blinks rapidly, his eyes glassy and dazed, but struggling through it. “Cambria? Dorian?”
Flipping him off, I get to my feet, panting to try and catch my breath. There’s a brief stab of disdain that I’m unfamiliar with. Luce has always favored Dorian, not that I blame him; the guy is like a stray puppy and even I’ve shielded him from some of the worst shit over the years that Luce would rather keep him clear of. That’s really been the only thing he and I have as common ground; off the books work.
Well, and Cambria now, causing the lines to start blurring, but there’s always been much more distance between us than he has with the other two. It normally doesn’t bother me, but after as much as I went through saving his ass twice? While already dealing with the blow of being human and on the outside even more noticeably?
Yeah, I’m annoyed.
Lucien is everything someone like Cambria deserves. Dorian too, if I’m being honest with myself. They’re good for her. And I’m just...along for the ride.
“Alive, last I knew. You’re welcome, by the way.”
