Chapter 46
CHAPTER 46
Ezryn
“M y brother told me all about the curse. So, you really turn into a big wolf at night?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa, that’s awesome. Can you do it whenever you want?”
“Yes.”
“You could do it right now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you?”
“No.”
“Oh. But if you did … could I ride on your back?”
“No.”
“Ugh, you’re so annoying. So, when all four of you wolves are together, and one of you starts howling, does it compel everyone to start joining in?”
“No, well, yes, I guess so.” I stop, my feet sinking into the sand, and blink the sweat out of my eyes. I can’t take any more of these insufferable questions. Eleanor has been walking right beside me since we left Caelum Outpost. Not a few steps away. Not a few paces in front or behind, but right beside me. Every passing moment has been spent answering some question about Castletree or the Blessings, and now she’s moved on to the curse.
I peer out at the wavering horizon. We’ve been trekking for several hours now, and the sun sits at its highest point in the sky, beaming down relentlessly. The memory of cool sea air and salty breezes is far away. There’s no road beyond the final outpost, only golden sand and sun-baked earth.
All we have to go on is a ratty feather caked in red clay. I know the Ribs are the most northern point of the realm, and so I navigate using the sun, as seems fitting in Summer. Once the sand shifts to red, we’ll know we’re close.
My gaze is drawn to the towering red rock formations up ahead, punctuating the landscape like broken bones. They rise abruptly from the desert floor, narrow and tall, with flat tops. Their long shadows drape over the earth.
I take in a deep breath, the dry air scratching my nose, and adjust the three packs on my back. Somehow after the first hour of walking, I’d ended up with both Eleanor and Delphia’s bags.
“Why’d we stop?” Eleanor says, blinking up at me with an owlish expression that reminds me of her eldest brother.
“I don’t like the look of those rocks,” I say. “Hey, Delphia, get back here.”
Delphia is up ahead. Unlike Eleanor, she’s wanted to be ahead of me the entire time. I didn’t mind when I had sightlines in every direction, but anything could be behind these rocks.
Myths and legends are abundant in the Vale. I’ve learned that even the most far-fetched tale usually has some inkling of truth to it. So, though there may not be drakes camouflaged as mirages, or elementals in the shape of whirlwinds, the Ribs have stories told about them for a reason.
“Delphia, get back here!” I shout when she doesn’t respond. She doesn’t even have her twin blades; they’re strapped to her pack which is currently hanging off my left shoulder.
“I just want to check these out!” she calls back, running toward the towering rocks.
“Delphia, steward and Princess of Summer, daughter of Sabine, Ovidius, and Cenarius, sister to Damocles, Decimus, and Daytonales, get your behind back here this instant or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she calls. “Send me to my room?” She cackles before turning and running toward the rocks.
A growl rumbles in my throat, and I shoot a glance down at the smirking Eleanor. “Don’t laugh at that.”
I take off, doubling my pace to try and catch her, while Eleanor sighs and keeps stride beside me, moaning, “I hate running.”
Well, I hate sweating my skin off in this barren wasteland while being pack mule to two defiant, ungrateful little girls , I think, but save my breath for running. For the thousandth time today, I wonder why I agreed to do this.
For Dayton. For Farron. For the Summer Realm.
For fuck’s sake!
Delphia has reached the rocks and started climbing up one of them. I heave in a breath and move faster.
Shadows drench Eleanor and me as we reach the towering formations.
“Get down,” I growl to Delphia, who’s hanging a few feet above my head.
She glares at me. “Shush.”
“I swear on the seven realms, if you don’t get down—”
“Fine!” She jumps down, landing gracefully, only the smallest cloud of dust whiffing up around her boots. “Just be quiet.”
I cross my arms. “I want to be quiet, but you’re the one gallivanting across the desert, without a single thought—”
“No!” She puts a finger to her lips and whispers, “Be quiet and listen.”
Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. There shouldn’t be anything to hear except the wind and the shift of sand.
“I hear it,” Eleanor murmurs. “It sounds like … a lullaby. One my mother used to sing.”
Delphia drifts away, pointed ear twitching. “It’s not a lullaby. Listen closely. It’s an old tavern song. My brothers would sing it together all the time.”
I still my breathing and let all the other sounds drift away. Yes, I hear it now. An otherworldly voice from a memory. Each note is filled with a sense of longing and sorrow, yet the melody makes me smile. It’s the song the captured siren sang the night we all descended Below. Last time I heard this song, Rosalina sat upon my lap, her body soft and radiating warmth in such a cold place. If only I could hold her like that again.
If I close my eyes and drift into the song, I can—
I snap back into myself. How are we all hearing music this far out into the desert? It’s not possible.
Unless …
A myth about monsters in the Ribs comes rushing back to me. Suddenly, the song doesn’t sound like the siren’s voice anymore. It’s a hideous, mocking jeer, devoid of tune or melody.
Eleanor’s leaning against the rocks, eyes closed, tears dripping down her face. I snatch her collar and pin her tight against my side, before spinning. “Delphia!”
Delphia’s wandered out into the open sand; a huge smile spread on her face. Like Eleanor, her eyes are closed, and tears paint her cheeks. “Sing it again, Dammy,” she calls. “Once more!”
“Delphia!” I roar and lunge for her.
But the harpy is faster.
Great black wings streak out of the sky. Hooked talons sink into Delphia’s shoulders.
The song disappears, replaced by Delphia’s scream.