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Jarek gave it a gentle shake and clicked his tongue. “This is why only you’ll die tonight. I can’t have you spoiling this for your companions, can I?”

The man’s fear spun out of control. Heaving the stench of crushed souls through his teeth, he tracked the vial as Jarek slid it into his pocket. Was it the prospect of death that did it or the loss of the drug? Perhaps they both came in the same form.

“Suffocate on Theila,” the man spat between panicked breaths.

Jarek pressed his foot in the hollow of the man’s neck. “That’s where you’ll be ending up. Pray I don’t join you there.”

He freed the Serpent from the binding of its vessel’s restraint. The slick crawled up the man’s body, thrashing eagerly across his skin. Tendrils spawned toward his face, snaking into any open orifice they could find. They plunged down his throat, gagging his breathing, into his nose, his ears…

Jarek looked away when they crept toward his eyes.

He dropped the mangled Escardian at the edge of the woods, and before he could stop himself, manifested back at the pond of their resting spot earlier that evening. He stripped off his shirt and staggered toward the water, one hand splashing in the reeds to steady himself so he wouldn’t be sick.

It was done. Regretful as he was, he knew the body would sell the lie of an animal attack.

The peaceful undulation of the water slowed his racing vision—the coolness of it pulling him down from his own high. Why did I come back here? Jarek shook his head, sitting back up on his knees and lifting his shaking hands to his line of sight, unable to see anything other than dirt and blood.

He dunked them in the water and scrubbed to the elbows, then his shoulders and down his chest for good measure. He left behind the bloody shirt and manifested back where he left Lilith and the boy near the bridge.

A small gasp escaped her lungs when she stood, but he didn’t linger on her long. Jarek strode heavily but forcefully to where he left his own pack for a new shirt, hiding how dizzy he was. He patted his damp face dry before slipping it on, all with the feel of Lilith’s stare stuck to his back, inevitably seeing what he tried to wash away.

“Move,” he told them, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

They followed in frigid silence through the thick of the woods to the border. The bridge and tower were still empty. Luka practically dragged Lilith to it, but she slowed at the edge.

Jarek impatiently scanned the direction he drew the guards. His head throbbed; his stomach was sick, and there were at least a few hours ahead of him before he considered it safe to rest. He moved just behind her when she stayed quiet.

“No arguments, Evelian. Go yourself or I will make you.”

She flinched, spinning to face him, but didn’t back away, choosing his looming presence over the abyss she was afraid to cross.

The wooden bridge was sturdy and wide, with low railings running along both sides. It was an easy choice, and Jarek didn’t want to force her as much as he knew she didn’t want to be. But he didn’t come this far to return to the Argents empty handed, and he hoped whatever threat she took from his warning, be it compulsion or slinging her over his shoulder, would be enough to get her to move.

Lilith’s eyes sharpened, combing over his person, before she flicked her gaze across the trench to the exact place the Escardian’s body was hidden.

She expelled a heavy breath, her aura lightening enough to get her onto the bridge.

Jarek released his own sigh while her back was turned, watching her cross the border while clinging to Luka. Lilith didn’t stop until she reached the tree line, and her fear diluted as Jarek led them out of Alokya’s territory for good.

Chapter Sixteeen

Jarek collapsed in the grass. He rubbed heavy hands down his face then settled them on his chest.

Just a few more days. That’s all he had, and Lilith would be Kyer’s problem. They stopped for the night after making a good pace crossing the border and heading south of Berkton. Jarek preferred the night’s tranquility and silence for travel, but Lilith and the boy made better time during the day. He’d have to deal with forcing the Serpent down day in and day out.

Gazing up at the evening sky, he took in the many sights and sounds of the woods.

The complexities surrounding how exactly life in Eizreth functioned were still lost on him. Both from lack of proper knowledge given, and how exactly his father’s legacy changed the balance of life in the north. In his first life, Failen experienced a brief warm season, though he only remembered enjoying it when he was young. Now it was like Reatia—frozen over and perpetually lost in a blizzard since the land had been bled dry of souls.

All of this was given to him through Amalia, though Jarek now found it best to speculate and ask questions in the face of authority.

What was obvious was how lush most of Eocera was. Flourishing and warm even as the leaves began to turn color. There was little change to the landscape since crossing the border five days ago. The thick forests were beginning to thin between gaps of wide fields, the vastness of them making Jarek nervous. Not that he couldn’t handle an issue, he’d just rather not have one still so far from Rimore and close to Markoth.

The trees were close, swaying above him and tempting him to sleep. He closed his eyes. The air was rich with sweet pine; crickets warbled in the long grasses.

The peace was broken with a single, trying-to-be-cautious step behind him. He didn’t flinch, but his chest heated with irritation, only speaking when the sound continued.

“What’s got you running off tonight?”