Page 66 of Wraithwound

Spinning on her heel, Lena ducked out of the shop and walked down the street to find the one that was “three down, on the left,” but before she had a chance to enter, she heard Cross’s voice, angry and clipped.

“Who was it, Row?” Cross asked.

“What’dya mean who?” a woman asked in return.

“Who was lost?” he asked again.

Then silence. Lena held her breath, keenly aware that this was not a conversation she should be privy to.

“Everyone’s checked in, Cross. And recently too,” Row said.

“How recently?” he asked.

“Within the last week, maybe a little longer,” she said.

“From where?” Cross pressed.

“Taryk’s with you, isn’t he? Gothiel from the outskirts of Bledrock, Hendricks before responding to activity near the Slate Mountains, and Sera and Zebos are just south of Misted Oak. Why?” Row asked.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“Yes!” Row said, irritation growing clear in her voice. “The only one who was unaccounted for was you. Now are you going to tell me why you’re asking?”

But the moment appeared to have passed.

“Is the stone charged?” he asked, his anger softening to irritation.

“First let me see your bracil. I’ll work on getting it refilled while you speak to him,” she said.

Lena’s skin began to prickle, and she brought her hand halfway to her chest before she thought better of it. Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she turned slowly to see Taryk approaching.

EverGods! Why hadn’t she figured if Cross was coming here, Taryk might too?

Taryk stopped just in front of her and opened his mouth to speak when a sharp chitter came from above. His head snapped up, gaze darting above the shops before he took a large step backward.

In doing so, she was able to get a better look at the puncture wounds on his exposed shoulders.

“Who are you?” Taryk asked, curiosity and suspicion mingling in his tone. “What are⁠—”

“My name is Lena,” she said quickly to stop him from asking her about what had occurred on the plains.

Taryk assessed her, taking note of her appearance.

She braced herself, waiting for him to ask the question she knew was at the forefront of his mind, of every soulbound’s mind.

But he didn’t ask if she was a wraith. Instead, he asked, “And you’re his dutybound?”

“I guess,” Lena said, catching sight of the small purple plant in his hand.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

“Is that sempervidium?” she asked.

Confusion flitted over Taryk’s face.

“It is,” he replied, glancing at the plant.

“Is that for those?” Lena said pointing at the plant and then at the puncture wounds in his shoulders.