CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Allmar mountains towered overhead, resembling a surge of ocean waves turned to stone.
Their horses moved anxiously along the narrow switchbacks, the pebbles crunching beneath their hooves.
The troop had dismounted to navigate to the Alliance’s hidden passage, making the journey slow and challenging.
The terrain was not just perilous; wild animals lurked within the caves and forests of the ridge, necessitating constant vigilance.
“You and Auden traveled this path alone?” Evylin asked Ilain when the path widened enough for them to walk two by two.
Ilain nodded, keeping her voice hushed as she replied, “It was no more fun than it is now.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “It was easier, though, being just the two of us. We didn’t even have horses.”
At the start of their journey, the Calders had told the troop of their travels from Wauld to Ephria, but now Evylin realized they must have lied about most of it.
After all, they hadn’t told them they’d taken a secret path through the mountains.
Instead, they’d reported that they used magic to sneak across the border.
She wondered what else they’d altered to create a suitable tale.
To make the journey worse, the rain had returned.
In the mountain’s shadow, the cold wind splattered them across the face, biting into their cheeks and noses despite their hoods.
Evylin was more than ready to quit Wauld and exchange the dampness for sunshine.
Even if it was spring, the weather in Ephria was never as wet and dreary as its western counterpart.
After hours of travel, Auden finally stopped them at the entrance of a cave.
He conjured an orb, its butter-yellow glow illuminating their path and ensuring there weren’t any animals lurking inside.
The horses were uneasy in the confined space, needing considerable coaxing to press forward in the darkness.
“Shouldn’t there be magic that helps animals to cooperate?” Thom grumbled.
“There is,” Ilain said casually.
Thom paused on the path, his face filling with awe. “Really? Which one?”
“Well, Terrae Mages are typically reasonable at it. But as Day magic speaks to life itself, it can also reach past the psyche and touch the soul.”
“Then why doesn’t Auden—”
Auden interrupted before the full question could be posed. “Because it takes a great deal of power, and I’m not particularly keen on wasting my energy talking to a horse.”
So on through the darkness they progressed.
Auden’s orb of light hung over their heads, casting strange shadows on the stone walls, which were slick with condensation.
The air grew continually colder until it settled at a frigid temperature that sent gooseflesh across Evylin’s skin.
The horses snorted their discontent but continued at a steady clop.
Eventually, the terrae began to decline beneath their feet.
Auden had informed them that the passage would take them beneath the mountains themselves through an underground cavern.
It would take a full day to cross. When they’d asked if any dangers prowled within the cavern, Ilain had replied, “No more than in the mountains above.” None of them felt much better about the trek after that.
Evylin decided she didn’t like caves. It reminded her of the Night Keep, closed off and full of shadows.
And she’d read enough novels to know paths through underground caverns were usually an invitation to death.
The closed-in spaces made her feel like the world was pressing in.
It was too still, too quiet within these stone walls.
When a sound did occur, she jumped, fearing that a monstrous creature was coming from the depths to eat them whole.
In the cavern’s wide halls, Deckard found his way to Evylin’s side. “Is my mind deceiving me?” he asked lightheartedly. “Or are you afraid?”
The aura of emotion radiating off him said he was just as uncomfortable as she was. Evylin smirked, grateful for his distracting company. “Warriors don’t get scared,” she said. “We simply have a healthy respect for the unknown.”
“Ah, yes, I should have assumed that.” In the glow of the orb, Deckard raised his brow. “I must have mistaken your feelings for mine, then.”
She nudged his arm teasingly. “If you need comfort, I’m sure Thom would be willing to hold your hand.”
“I believe he’s a bit too preoccupied with his horse at the moment.”
Evylin glanced over her shoulder, seeing Thom struggling yet again with his horse. Brea stepped up to him, exchanged her horse’s reins with his, and moved on, the mare following her willingly, no longer protesting. Thom gaped after her like she’d tamed a wolf.
Chuckling, Evylin turned back to Deckard. “Seems he’s free now,” she said.
“Seems you’re right,” Deckard said, his gaze lingering on the scene. A slight tinge of emotion muddled his aspect for only a moment before he returned his coy grin to her. “But you see, I find the presence of a Warrior far more soothing to my sensibilities.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hm.” He dipped his chin. In the shadows, his hair turned a deep brown, and his scruff appeared thicker. Still, his eyes shone with a bright blue in the radiant light of Auden’s orb. “They’re immensely safer to be around, being that they can kill anything they put their mind to.”
Evylin snorted despite her attempt to remain stoic in their banter. “Then perhaps you’d find Ethenn to be a superior comfort. After all, he’s far stronger than I. Or Brea would be a fantastic savior. She’s had decades of practice and is vastly more skilled than both of us.”
“You know,” Deckard said, giving her a wide-eyed look as though that thought were greatly appealing, “I’d not considered that perspective.”
“Shall I call her over for you?”
Deckard pressed his lips together around a dubious hum. “Alas, no, I think not.”
“No?”
“I believe my wife might become jealous as I’m a Mage, and she might think a Warrior would have designs on me.”
“Oh, yes, I can see how that might be a problem.” She forced down a smirk to sigh dramatically. “Well, I’m afraid that means you’ll have to leave me too.”
“Truly?”
“Indeed. After all, I, too, am a Warrior,” she said, then let her gaze turn sultry, “and I have great designs upon you.”
A soft affection came to Deckard’s face, his feelings shifting to something between tenderness and want. “Well, I have good news,” he said, voice hushed as if in a conspiratorial whisper. “The wife of whom I spoke? She’s you.”
Evylin gasped in mock awe. “Well, then, perhaps I’ll take you behind the nearest rock pillar and have my way with you.”
His eyes twinkled with mirth. “They’re called stalagmites.”
“I don’t care what they’re called.”
“Hm.” He gave her a cunning stare before turning away. His hand found hers beneath the folds of her cloak, and their fingers entwined.
They walked in silence then, taking quiet comfort in the other’s presence. Dreadful creatures of the depths or not, they would be safe together.
After hours of traversing the darkness, the troop stopped to camp in another grand cavern.
They hobbled the horses and placed them in a small alcove to ensure they wouldn’t wander away.
A stream trickled through the main hall, giving them the ability to refill their waterskins after Isla treated it with Water magic to ensure its purity.
They didn’t bother with a campfire, letting Auden’s light orb glow, giving them just enough light to see without attracting any lurking creatures (hopefully).
Pressed against the damp rock walls, they didn’t put up the tents or spread out the bedrolls but huddled close and doubled blankets to keep warm. The stalagmites loomed around them, and the orb light turned their long shadows into claws, as though they were sitting in the giant paw of a dragon.
It seemed their surroundings got the others to thinking about terrifying creatures as well because Thom said, “I’ve been thinking. The Keeps’ Guardians? They were a dragon, a bloodwolf, and a flying bear-bird—”
“A vaengebjorn,” Ilain corrected.
“Right,” Thom said dryly. “But they’re all magical constructs, aren’t they? Like the Shades.”
“Well, yes, technically,” Auden said. “But the ancient Mages did base them on real creatures. Why do you think we have tales of dragons, bloodwolves, and vaengebjorn?”
“Because people like to make stuff up,” Thom replied defensively. “We have all kinds of fairytales and implausible stories that some bloke randomly imagined.”
Evylin cocked her head to the side, thinking of all the fantastic novels she’d read in her life.
Stories filled with daring feats of courage, wild tests of strength, and mythical creatures of imagination.
Only a few months ago, Evylin would have agreed with Thom, denying that any of the magical things she’d read were true.
But now she was a Warrior, Bonded to a Mage.
Perhaps the impossible was possible after all.
She turned to Thom with a smirk and asked, “Implausible stories like the existence of Mages?”
His face scrunched in distaste as a few around the camp chuckled softly.
“Bloodwolves are real,” Brea said suddenly. “I’ve fought one before.”
“Really?” Evylin gasped, her memory conjuring the hound they’d fought in the Night Keep with its violet veins and giant girth. The creature was frightening and deadly. She couldn’t fathom facing one of true flesh.
Brea nodded. “We call them demolobis in Schon—demonwolves. The few remaining live in the Doraespin Mountains, though they aren’t what they once were.”
“Their magic is gone,” Isla added. “Though they say the Madraloba sleeps in the darkest caverns, waiting for her power to return so she can restore her children’s power and drink the blood of Mages.”
Uncomfortably, Deckard shifted beside Evylin. “Do you really believe these creatures exist?” he asked.
“I just told you I fought one,” Brea said. “Of course, I believe they exist.”