The fear Geryll had endured.
“The same one they go through when the river crocodiles get them,” Elysia said. “Probably better, because it’s a quicker death and they’re not shred apart.”
“Elysia,” Zandyr hissed.
I huffed a mean laugh. “You and that Protectorate fiancee of yours will get along just fine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffed, offended.
“That you both have a knack for saying things you shouldn’t.”
“Are those things true, by any chance? I’m sorry about your loss. I truly am, Ryker. And I hope you get to mourn in peace.Afterwe win this war.” She blew the air out of her face once more, this time angrier. “And you’re right, Zandyr and I could have come here today ourselves. But you’re the one who has that special bond with animals. We also foolishly thought it would be better for you to spend the day away from where Geryll diedandthat you might have needed company.”
I worked my jaw, not trusting my mouth to say anything useful right now.
“If you need a few more days to mourn, we’ll understand,” she went on.
“I’m not leaving,” I said through gritted teeth. “I need to dosomething.”
“Then help us. I’ve spent all my days fighting and my nights weighing microscopic amounts that could have killed me. Wesnuck away from our camp to avoid any chance of someone reporting back to the Serpents. We’re in deep trouble. Don’t be another obstacle,” she said. “We need that razor-sharp focus of yours to succeed.”
She stared at me, chest puffed up, ready for another round.
A part of me wanted it. Wanted to fight, even with words. I needed to feel useful.
Allie’s presence in my mind grew.
Probing.
Worried.
I hadn’t realized I’d been blaring my emotions so plainly.
I’d truly lost focus and control.
Her curiosity softened the edges I hadn’t realized had sharpened. Because she cared enough to check.
I sent her a quick reassurance–the best I knew how considering I’d never communicated like this with anyone and never would again–and forced my attention back to the meadow. I didn’t want her to feel the depths of my misery.
She had enough problems without worrying about me.
That small moment had helped, though. More than she probably realized.
The fight left me in one long sigh.
“You’re right,” I said. “I need to focus.”
Elysia’s brows rose and her lips moved, no sounds coming out.
“Well…good,” she said primly and turned back to look at the mound of grass, as if uncertain how to proceed.
Between the two of us, Zandyr sighed. “Good thing the dam is so loud, or the Butcher himself would have heard you two squabbling.”
My gaze raced beyond the trees flanking the meadow, where the violent rivulets of water turned to the dangerous currents of the Obsidian River. The Crimson Dam’s dark stones hadweathered, but the protective runes on its towering arches still flickered with the remnants of the magic we’d lost along the generations.
But the water had eaten away at the rocks and mortar.
Nothing in this world truly lasted forever, not even eternal constructions.
