Page 26 of The Arcane God

Before he could stop her, she was mounting her horse again, and he had no choice but to follow. They rode all day, moving in silence for hours, with Ena still moving like she was on a mission—barely stopping, barely resting, until finally they arrived back to the crossing point where they’d started—with still not a single sign of Ty.

It wasn’t as if he’d expected a sign at this point—they’d been searching so long already—but the crush of the destroyed hope hit him just the same. What should they do now?

“Let’s take a break here for a while, come up with a plan,” he said, looking behind him to where Ena rode atop her horse.

And right away he saw that something was wrong. She was frozen, not moving as she sat on her horse. Her chest was rising and falling quickly—too quickly—as if she were in distress, but her body was frozen, like a deer caught in a hunter’s sight line. Like if she dared to move, she’d be killed.

“Ena? Are you okay?” he asked, his concern peaking.

She didn’t respond.

Quickly, he got off his horse and went to her, grabbing her reins from her hands. They were ice cold and tight around them, but he managed to extricate them and get her feet out of the stirrups as he took her down from the horse.

He put her over his shoulder and carried her to the snow-covered ground, setting her down.

“Breathe, Ena,” he told her. “Just breathe. You’re okay. I’m here. Just breathe.”

He took exaggerated deep breaths, hoping she’d follow suit, but her chest still moved too quickly, and her eyes were frozen open, filled with fear.

“Can you move?” he asked, concern flooding him.

She didn’t respond. He would take that as a no.

“Ena, what do you need? I’m here for you,” he said, grasping her hands in his. “Please, Ena, come on, breathe for me.”

She still stared at him, frozen and tense as he breathed deeply for her again, willing her to do the same. “You have to be okay, Ena, please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t leave me too.”

She cracked a bit at that, a shuddering breath coming through her as her lungs filled more than they had been.

“Good,” Turner said encouragingly. “Just like that. Do that again.”

She shuddered again, getting a deeper breath in. And again. And again. Slowly, slowly, breath after breath, her body started to relax. Eventually, her eyes fell closed, and he saw her muscles loosen from their stiffened position.

“Ena,” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, the movement slow and strange after she’d been frozen for so long. “He’s gone,” was all she said, and then the tears started flowing. “How can he be gone?” she asked, her voice cracking and shaking until her body descended into full-body sobs.

Turner held her then, as she held him, and he felt the tears begin to fall down his own cheeks. His own despair and rage at their situation overtook him, and together, they cried. They cried until they were both spent and beyond exhausted, but they held each other still.

It wasn’t until almost an hour had passed, both of them clinging to each other in their silent grief, that Turner spoke again.

“We have to keep going, Ena. You know that, right?” he asked.

“How can I keep going?” she replied, her voice flat. Like she really, physically, did not know how to keep going at that moment.

“Look at me, Ena,” he said, pulling back so she faced him. “This is not the end. Okay? It’s not over. It’s never over. You have to keep going. For me, for the baby. We have to find Ty’s mother and the Omnis worshippers. It’s our only recourse now.”

She watched him, listening, her eyes full of tears. But he knew she was hearing him, so he kept talking.

“Maybe he survived somehow. I don’t know. He’s strong, Ena, you know that. Maybe he’s out there somewhere we just can’t find him. But”—Turner swallowed—“even if he’s not, you are not alone. You’re never alone, and we’ll get through this together, do you hear me?”

She nodded at him slowly, her eyes falling closed as her hands went to her abdomen. To where the baby grew. “You’re right. I know you’re right,” she said, her voice small and quiet.

He could tell she was exhausted—several days of little sleep, barely eating, would be hard under normal circumstances, but for someone pregnant, trying to support another life too, he couldn’t even imagine.

“What do you need, Ena?” he asked. And in that moment, he was glad that at least he could care for her and Ty’s baby. At least he could do that right now. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? What do you want?”

She met his eyes again, the dimming light of the evening making them shine with sadness as she wiped tears away from them. “I need to talk to my sister.”