Chapter 49
Chapter
Forty-Nine
ALLIE
T he sun still hadn’t risen by the time we’d reached the rim.
The cold bit at my knuckles in the darkness, a hissing breeze snaking through the forest behind us.
We left the sleds and wolves at the edge of it, with two warriors guarding them on the promise that if we didn’t return within one hour, they would rush back to the city and warn the others.
“Do you think it’s wise to alarm them now?” I asked Ryker as we let the wolves loose–well, he let them loose, I watched, grasping the palaver book to my chest as if I could fuse it with my own skin. “The passage could be completely safe.”
“Better to warn them and have them be prepared than ignorant. If it’s truly safe, I will walk out, swallow my pride, and say I was too cautious.
” His frown, which had been deepening the closer we got the rim, creased even more.
“I trust my warriors with my life. They do not fear death, only senseless defeat. I intend to give them the best chance to win.”
“I passed through the tunnel mere weeks ago–in the back of a honey carriage,” I insisted. “The driver didn’t even react. He kept trying to calm his horse down.”
“He is the only man I envy in this world,” he said.
One of the wolves nuzzled his hand and got scratches behind his ear and a rare Ryker smile.
“I asked him once how he did it. He told me the voices sing lullabies to him, he enjoys it. Truly a pristine heart. Even when he lived in Solkar’s Reach, he was the happiest person I knew. ”
“Why did he leave, then?”
“He said his bones hurt too much at night because of the cold. I suspect he couldn’t live in the same house after he lost his wife in the plague.”
Another life which could have been saved if the Northern Clans hadn’t turned their backs on Solkar’s Reach.
“What do you hear?” I ventured to ask, almost fearing the answer.
“Awful things.” Ryker’s jaw tightened. Even the wolf had sensed the shift in him, trotting away to join its pack underneath the trees. “Usually.”
Alarm bells rang in my ears. “Usually?”
“That’s the problem.” His eyes sparked as he turned them toward the rim. “I don’t hear anything now.”
My breathing tightened. Fewer words had troubled me more. “Maybe we’re too far away.”
“Perhaps,” he said, not sounding the least bit convinced. “Once we’re inside, if you see or hear anything amiss, you let me know instantly.”
“How will I know when something isn’t right? I don’t know how it is when it’s right.”
“You’ll feel it.” He placed a warm hand on my shoulder, which tried to be reassuring, but a knot had settled between my shoulder blades since the moment I’d risen today.
The memories of the passage hissed in my ear and made my knees weak–but they wouldn’t stop me.
“Only the two of us can see the veins, the rest follow on trust alone. We need to pay attention and guide them.”
I nodded like I’d seen the sentinels do when I gave them a command. He knew this realm better than I ever could. Today, I too would follow his lead.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I just need to check it one last time.” I opened the palaver for the twenty-third time this morning, heart tight as if waiting for impact, but still filled with foolish hope. Nothing. Again. My heart plummeted near my ankles.
I couldn’t keep lying to myself.
Something was wrong.
I’d tried screaming and pleading at the book, but, still, Dax hadn’t answered. He’d either left his own palaver closed or…
I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t think like that. Not when I was powerless to do anything about it.
I should have taken the other books with me. Dax might have contacted my other cousins or taken refuge with one of them. He could have lost my book.
Too many lies that did nothing to sweeten my dread.
But I had to push it down until we returned from the passage.
I closed the book and pressed it to my chest once more. My power stirred low in my belly, awoken by the visceral Vegheara need to shield.
If I could have yanked Dax from the purple sky, I would have.
But I had to settle for what my ancestors had done since Dria’s time.
Protect.
I stared up at the stars slowly winking out of view as the sun’s first rays glimmered in the distance. Today, they would be cold witnesses no more.
My blue tendrils burst out of my chest, weaving over the book, as a familiar blaze coursed through me.
“ Stars above and beyond, hear my plea ,” I chanted. “ Shield my cousin from all eyes, hide him from spies, and let him fall for no lies .”
The wind picked up, distorting my voice and whipping my hair around my face. But I felt detached from these mortal sensations, overtaken by the power of the magic.
The one which had fueled my bloodline through wars, deaths, famines and every imaginable hardship which had molded us.
I might not have been First Daughter anymore, but I’d always be a Vegheara.
And my blood sang with magic.
My eyes burned as I kept staring at the stars, as if daring them to ignore me.
What if they did?
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, sizzling under the weight of the spell.
“ Carry the message to Dax, let him see, and bring his face and voice back to me. ”
As the final incantation left my lips, my power surged from my chest, up my throat, as if anointing my words. The rush was so strong, pulling me upwards, that I ended up on the tips of my toes.
Blue light cascaded around me for a breath, before the wind carried it away into nothing.
Then it was done.
I fell back onto my heels, my breaths haggard and stinging. I looked down at the book.. Not a page corner had changed, but I had.
The veins on the back of my hands stood out harsher than before. Just like they had when I’d cast the protective spell for Evie weeks ago.
Until then, this had never happened–and I’d cast too many protective spells to count.
I thought it a coincidence back then and blamed it on the fatigue poisoning my body. But now I’d almost regained my strength.
Yet my blood still engorged my veins as if eager to spill out of them.
I couldn’t stop the shiver wracking through my body. My gaze jumped to Ryker’s, as if he could hold any answers.
But I found him staring at me, eyes wide and lips parted.
“What?” Gods, when did my throat get so hoarse?
“Your eyes,” he whispered, mesmerized, like a man unsure if he should approach a miracle or run away from it. “They turned silver. All silver.”
He took a step toward me and raised his hand to touch my cheek, as if checking if I was still me.
“It must’ve been a trick of the light.” I shook my head. “They’ve never done that before.”
“And your voice,” he went on, undeterred, lowering his voice. “It didn’t sound like you. It’s like a thousand Huntresses chanted as one.”
I kept shaking my head. That explained the sudden soreness. But I had no answers to give to his unspoken questions.
I wondered the same as him.
“That’s–that’s never happened before,” I said, even as I turned my right palm, watching it. “Maybe my magic is still adjusting as it’s coming back.”
Even as I said it, it didn’t feel right. My gaze travelled to the rim waiting for us.
“Or maybe the crater is changing my powers.”