Page 63 of Hunger & Harmony

Only Selene knows. She found me not long after Niko left, bloody lip and all. I didn’t have to tell her anything; she just helped me back to the bus. As Niko keeps his distance, Selene’s silent presence has been grounding. Comforting. Clearly, no one looped Ezren in, and I can only hope Ryel will never be able to hold this over my head.

“Well . . .”

I slump in his grasp.

“Everyone’s wiped, but this is the last stop,” Ezren says, his assurance only worsening my heartache.

Because he’s right. This is the last city, and the tour will end. No more excuses to be this close. No more traveling or opportunities to stay by Niko’s side.

Maybe no more reason to have me around.

If my contract isn’t flat-out canceled, I already know the distance between us will widen. I’ll be kept busy in other ways. He’s already making that a reality.

“Why’re you crying?”

Snapped out of my spiraling thoughts, Ezren’s pout is blurred by tears. I try to blink them away and only succeed at helping a few escape. Being a crybaby is so unfair.

“How long until we’re there?” I ask to try to shift the subject, rubbing my face with my sleeve.

Before Ezren can speak, a monotone voice answers from the table.

“Not long,” Cass says before he takes a sip of his black coffee. “We’re approaching Mount Umbra.”

I have to put aside my embarrassment that Cass witnessed my tears. After exchanging a look with Ezren, we then turn to the window, lifting the shade to have a look.

“Holy shit.”

We’re climbing higher than roads should allow. My stomach lurches, and I’m not even scared of heights.

Up into the jagged hush of Aurea’s spine, these barren mountains are said to be uninhabitable for humans. The sun hasn’t set, yet we’re swallowed by the mountain's shadow. Only dusk remains.

Etched into the ribs of ancient igneous and sedimentary layers, Sancte Noctis wasn’t meant to be found by those with a pulse. The temperature continues plummeting, vicious to my already red nose, and we’re not yet out in the dry air. A metallic taste gathers at the back of my throat; blood and limestone are synonymous.

Sancte Noctis doesn’t rise from the stone—it’s carved into it.

The bus slows, and beyond the glass, our bleak surroundings start to shimmer. Not sparkling, and not in a beautiful way. More like the heat off a blade.

“Glamour ward,” Ezren murmurs, almost to himself.

The gates we're moving towards weren’t there a moment ago.

They’re wrought iron, with threatening spikes fused into stone. It’s clear that no one uninvited gets in, but I wonder how anyone would get out. Gnarled trees sprout from cracks in the cliffs, their roots like veins.

This isn’t a city. It's an enclave built for concealment. There are no tourists, and definitely no fans.

“This doesn’t feel like a tour stop,” I say, and Ezren laughs dryly.

“I guess it’s not.” I meet his darkened eyes. “You're not gonna hear any cheers.”

All my worries lump in my throat.

We roll forward, entering the mouth of a beast. There’s only one winding path through the cragged slopes, and it’s barren. The monstrous structure up ahead doesn’t need a grand entrance. It looks down on us all on its own.

“Have you been here before?” I whisper to Ezren.

A ceremonial hush is only interrupted by the hum of the engine and tires over gravel. I fear that if I raise my voice in the slightest, there’ll be a price to pay.

“Many times,” he says before he quickly adds, “Not that it gets any easier.”