“But it’s shallow,” Kellan countered, though he nodded in agreement. “Good thing there’s four of us.” A cocky smirk pulled the corner of his lips up, and he shot me a wink, the insufferable swagger I used to hate somehow easing the anxiety that slipped in.
He ran the edge of my blade over his wrist and held it out, a steady trickle of blood coating the bottom of the white basin. A phantom voice whispered in my mind…I will bleed for you, Bonscaíh.
The three of us followed suit. Honor’s sharp edge bit into my wrist so cleanly, the pain was delayed. We held our handsout, four lines of life flowing from our arms and spreading in a crimson pool below.
“How long do we—” Aeriden began after several minutes.
A long creak groaned from the entrance to the side of the mountain, and the long iron bars slowly rose to the top of the opening.
Kellan’s warm hands were on my arm, a thick strip of his shirt already ripped off as he tied it tightly around the slice on my wrist.
“Drink,” he commanded, thrusting a waterskin in my hand before turning to the others.
I swallowed the rise of nausea, blinking against the surge of lightheadedness from loss of blood, and took several slow sips. Our blood had filled the basin. Each of us sacrificed almost a waterskin full of our life force.
A chill, stale air floated from the darkness in the mountainside, waiting for its weakened visitors.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DRYSTAN
King Saros’s high priest is alive and in my custody. I’ll come to you when I know more.
– Undelivered correspondence from Sea Spear to White Hawk, 50thof Winter, 072.3E.
Drystan – Western Sultira
Iwiped my nose on my tunic. The dry, loamy scent of horse hooves lingered in my nostrils, causing them to drip. Two hours had passed, as I marked the inches of sunlight traveling beyond the small chip I’d made on the trunk of the fragrant pine tree. Ezrich and Windsor had yet to return.
I wandered back into the small cabin after tending to the horses, and I scanned the living space. I peered through the open door to the small bedroom in the back, the fractured forest light spearing through the open window and cutting a sharp line across the long wooden panels. My eyes caught on the thirdpanel in, a slightly lighter shade, and I remembered my own words from months ago.
Don’t let curiosity get the best of you…
My thoughts sprang to Lyvia, my nosy friend, always ignoring her, or rathermy, better judgment and giving in to the impulse to snoop. My chest constricted at the thought of her. Was she all right? We’d had no word of her or the others after Mount Telum had turned into a massive nullifier. She had looked so shocked when we appeared in that cave… and then that scream… Had something happened to them? What was that archway in the center of the cave? Why had it felt like something terrible was about to happen? Guilt scraped my insides. We’d left.I’d just left her…
My fingers buzzed with anticipation. We had to find the edge of the rubelline zone. Not only to determine how far the magic nullifying power extended, but also so that I could return to her and the others. So I could ensure they were all right…
I turned back to the kitchen, doing my best to shake off the twisting grip of shame and ignore the growing urge to peek around in the old man’s room.
My blade sat sheathed, leaning against the wall near my pack in the corner. I’d cleaned it last night, but it couldn’t hurt to sharpen it once more before we hit the road again. I dug for the whetting stone I’d been using, shuffling my things around and cursing as I came up empty. Had Ezrich taken it?
I strode across the room to where his things sat, passing the open door to Windsor’s chambers once more and pausing. My attention cut to the faded panel, noting the wear marks on its outer edges.
Leave it be,I reminded myself.Any normal person would have a space to hide their valuables. You are not a criminal. There is no need to look.
I rubbed my fingers together. A nagging feeling swept through me, an itch I couldn’t scratch. An instinctual awareness that arose when danger was near. I’d had it almost my entire life, that unnerving sense that arrived just before the threat made itself known. It came before the blow, before the anger.
I’d felt it for the first time when I was a small boy in Krestwood. The first time I realized I had ears that didn’t work. My gut flipped at the memory, at the pain that followed because I had yet to learn to listen to that feeling.
Godsdammit.
I pulled my gaze away and strode quickly to the front door, swinging the curtains wide. The late morning sunshine draped a wide blanket of light across the dingy floor and up the opposite wall. I’d need a signal, a little warning, in case Windsor or Ezrich returned. Peeking behind me once more to ensure I was still alone, I crept into the old man’s quarters.
What was wrong with me?
The answer to that was clear. I’d spent too much time with rebels, elves, and pirates. My mouth twitched, and a painful ache ebbed in my chest as Isla’s face popped into my mind.
I angled myself to the side, keeping an eye on the light coming in through the door window, while my fingers slid along the edges of the wooden panel. I followed the wear marks and pressed gently until aclickvibrated through the pads of my fingers, and the wooden panel popped.
