Chapter 15
“Of course you can’t fucking swim,” a voice says above me as I seize, then promptly empty the limited contents of my stomach. “Of course you take a fucking gulp of water in shock. Like an idiot.”
That gulp of water burns my throat as I retch it up.
When I’m done, I look at him through my dripping eyelashes, wondering what I’m going to do with two massive swords when I murder him.
He doesn’t move an inch. All he says is, “Of course, mere hours into working together, you almost get us both killed. Over an illusion.” He shakes his head and curses.
My eyes prickle, remembering that illusion. My throat is raw from the retching. “You … you are a bastard. Do you know that?”
He tilts his head. His hood moves with it. Now, though, it’s firmly in place. I remember the sliver mask, though. I remember gray eyes. “What an interesting way to thank me for saving your pathetic life.”
“Thank you?” I laugh, then cough some more. My ribs ache. My skin is ice-cold. “We both know you would let me drown in an instant if you didn’t need the map.”
He doesn’t deny it.
The water was freezing. I shiver in spite of myself, my teeth chattering. He doesn’t give a damn. Of course he doesn’t.
He doesn’t seem cold at all. He’s prepared. He must have layers on beneath that armor.
I lean forward, nails sinking into the ground for purchase as another wave of nausea rocks through me. At the sound of gentle lapping, I look to my right. We’re on a tiny island, right in the middle of the lake.
And we are surrounded. Every inch of shoreline is covered by rancid, flesh-rotted demons. Waiting. Watching. I grab my sword.
Raker’s voice is grating. “Don’t waste what little energy you possess. They cannot cross. They’ll be gone when the sun rises.” I look over at him, sitting, his sword dug into the dirt in front of him.
He isn’t worried in the slightest that I might take it. I probably can’t, I think, after having seen so many people try to take my own.
Could he move mine? He’s Harlan Raker. Maybe he’s capable of moving any sword.
I don’t plan on finding out.
I have every intention of staying awake. My heart is beating wildly, the panic still pounding through my blood. But I’m worn out from the retching. My energy fades quickly.
I fall asleep curled around my sword in its scabbard, to the memory of furious gray eyes.
Sunlight rains down, its heat like a blanket. I groan, luxuriating in its warmth, before it’s ripped away completely.
My eyes slowly blink open, only to find a hooded figure blocking the sunlight like an incessant shadow. I’m still curved around my scabbard, my legs and arms wrapped around it.
His voice is emotionless. “You weren’t moving. I thought you might have died.”
I glare up at him. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He walks away, murmuring something that sounds like a curse against me. I’m sure he’s regretting saving me. I’m sure he thinks even the map isn’t worth it.
As long as he keeps working with me, I don’t give a shit. And even though I would be dead without his interference, I can’t summon even a shred of gratitude. Because I know the truth about him. I know he doesn’t have feelings, or mercy, or anything resembling a heart beneath that spotless armor.
The demons. I jolt, turning toward the shore where they watched us sleep all night.
They’re gone. Just like Raker said they would be.
His deep voice cuts through the morning. “The next part of the map. Draw it.” He points at the dirt.
There he is again, ordering me to do something. My pride rises, but I snuff it out. He’s already proven useful.
I begin drawing with a stick. I’m not stupid enough to draw the entire length for him. I’ll just show the closest part to us.
There are several mountain ranges. A few roads. Forests. I draw all of them in proximity to where we are, grateful for all those nights spent strengthening my memory.
Finally—“The Prism Pass. Land of rainbows was written beneath it.” I wait for a reaction that never arrives.
These mountains seem separated, full of steep drop-offs and deep valleys. And … waterfalls. I draw from memory and perk up. “This is perfect—because … because of the water.” I draw at least a dozen of them that were marked.
I put the stick down and marvel at my work.
Raker studies my drawing for a moment.
Then he wordlessly turns around. His sword glistens as he pulls it out of the dirt and slides it back against his spine. He grabs his pack.
I blink. “That’s it? You aren’t going to tell me where we’re going? You aren’t going to consult me at all?”
“Your voice is irritating,” he says, reaching his hand into the darkness of his hood. Is he … pinching his nose over the mask? I think about all those rumors about him being a monster beneath there. Maybe he is. All I saw were eyes. The rest could be anything. “Speak to me as little as possible.”
“You do not order me,” I say, getting to my feet, because fucking enough.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He takes a step forward. “You asked to work with me. Those are my conditions. Listen. And don’t speak.”
My hands clench into fists. I did ask him to work with me. I practically begged him to. And even though he’s proven himself to be more of a bastard than I anticipated, I’m alive. I’m closer to the gods. That’s all that matters.
“Fine,” I say through my teeth.
He turns away, toward the water. That’s when I realize we’ll have to cross it.
“I can’t—”
“Fucking swim, I know,” he barks. He sighs, the movement raking through his entire mountainous form.
He really is absurdly huge. A foot and a half taller than me, and ridiculously muscled …
but not so big that his size would slow him down.
The exact form I would expect from the most feared warrior on Stormside.
He lingers, looking over at me, hesitating.
For a moment, I think he might offer his hand. He might take me in his arms, the way he must have last night to drag me from the depths of the lake and onto this isle. But that’s stupid of me, because in the end, he seems to think better of it as he shakes his head and growls, “Figure it out.”
He steps into the lake and is gone in a moment. He swims effortlessly, even in his armor. I open my mouth. Close it.
Will he leave me? Will he decide the map isn’t worth this?
I won’t wait to find out. I look around, searching for anything to help me get across. That’s when I see a few trees. Some bark is hanging off. Bark is buoyant. I know that from the time it rained when I was five, and my father used a rare slice of it to make two small boats we raced in a puddle.
My hands grip its edges, sharp pieces digging into my skin, and I pull.
It’s thick and tough. My teeth slide together, my shoes digging into the dirt as I tug, and tug, muscles straining.
Slowly, it begins to come apart. I wince, my fingers slipping in my own blood as sharp wood pieces dig into them, but I don’t stop, the sound of the water diminishing as he gets farther and farther away.
He could leave me. Especially now that I’ve given him the surrounding area of the map.
I take my sword, force it up with a groan, and hastily slice off the rest of the bark, then sprint toward the water, hands bleeding. Everything in me screams to stay on land, my lungs burning as if remembering how they filled with water, but I can’t hesitate. Not anymore.
I fling myself into the lake, the thick bark beneath me. And it floats. I kick wildly, eyes on the shore. The water is freezing, just like it was last night.
Last night. I remember the burn of my chest, the constricting. My body both fighting to stay alive and resigning itself to death.
He might be the most miserable person I’ve ever met, but Raker is right. My weaknesses will seal my fate during this journey. I have no choice but to overcome them. That’s the only way I’ll make it to the end of this.
Starting with getting to the other side of this lake.
If I slip off the bark, I’m dead. Raker won’t save me a second time. I don’t even hear him swimming anymore. No, the only thing cutting through the morning is my ragged breathing, my kicking legs, and the water sputtering around me.
If he left … I’ll be alone again. No dragon. No Kira and Zane.
I didn’t expect to have allies on my quest, and only now do I see how stupid that was. Did I really think I could make it across Starside alone? Yes. I did. I thought this rage in my chest and the years of training with Stellan would be enough to carry me through.
Now I understand why Stellan was so against me going. Now I understand why he was so afraid.
Find Vander Evren, he’d said. Who is that? And how am I supposed to find an immortal in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by challengers and immortals alike who would kill me for this sword on my back?
I kick harder, and the bark dips low, sending water spilling into my mouth. I spit it out, hoping Raker didn’t leave. Being with him is better than being alone.
It’s only halfway across that I see him, leaning against the cliffside, watching me struggle. His posture says unimpressed.
I grit my teeth and kick, eyes locked on him, refusing to let him see me fail, letting my stubbornness overpower my muscle cramps, until I wash roughly up on the shoreline. The rocks cut my fingers again, but pride fills me.
I made it. I figured it out.
Raker doesn’t seem too pleased about that fact as he turns around, like he wishes he could have watched me die.
We don’t speak. All I do is follow as Raker walks at a pace that means I have to half jog. His legs are far longer than mine. I race to keep up, already exhausted from crossing the water.
My sword is heavy on my back, but he carries his as if it’s almost weightless. The same with his armor. That is, I suppose, his training.