Chapter 27
“You chose an odd place to hide out,” Felix muttered as they walked. “Didn’t take you for the woodsy type.”
The journey from Bedwyck had felt endless, and going to Haverglen from here would be a full day’s journey. Possibly longer with the way the aesling was dragging himself along. Though Felix was struggling himself.
The first light of morning filtered down through the trees, the sky a bruised purple, but the path ahead was still cloaked in shadows. Wind sighed softly through the branches, and their shuffling steps carried through the stillness of the forest, disrupting the calm buzzing of insects.
Felix glanced back over his shoulder. August was saying something under his breath, his dark eyes distant.
“What are you mumbling about?”
He responded with a glower.
“Just making conversation,” Felix said indifferently. “My boredom threshold is quite low.”
He had taken his anger and locked it away to prevent himself from doing something stupid. There was a very real possibility that, if Felix wasn’t careful with his temper, August wouldn’t make it to Fallowmoor alive. And they needed him alive.
He eyed the aesling in the dim light, taking in the creeping black veins that stretched up his neck like the tree branches overhead.
“You look like death.”
“Fuck off, Felix.”
He grinned. “That’s fair.”
Pain flared, and he had to focus to keep his face steady. His prosthetic was digging in, and his back ached from the compensatory limp he was fighting hard to hide. His good leg trembled from bearing too much for too long.
“Marlow, I think we should take a quick rest. We need the aesling in one piece, and he’s looking rough.”
The look she gave him was a quiet understanding, a shared acknowledgement. She knew how his leg got. Knew that walking long distances left him miserable. And she knew how much he hated to admit it.
As he settled into the damp, dew-covered grass, Marlow sat beside him.
“You good?” she asked quietly
“I’m grand,” he muttered.
“Need me to dull the pain?”
He rejected the offer with a dismissive wave. She’d used a lot of her energy healing his gunshot wound, and he’d never risk pushing her past her limit.
He loosened the straps on the prosthetic and let out a slow, relieved sigh.
“Where are we going?” August asked, still on his feet.
“I told you. You’re going to clean up your mess.” When August frowned, clearly still not understanding, Felix added with the edge of a smile, “We’re going home, Auggie.”
August went still. “I thought you wanted me dead.”
“Oh, I do yeah,” said Felix. “Very much so.”
“Then why drag me back to Fallowmoor?”
The last thing Felix wanted was to admit they needed him, so he simply said, “This is your responsibility. Not mine.”
August was silent for a long moment, eyes distant like he was puzzling something out.
“I’m not going back to my mother,” he said. “I have no interest in being aesveran.”
Felix snorted a laugh as he plucked a blade of grass. “Believe me, nobody would benefit from you ruling.”
August’s gaze cut to the side, and he tilted his head, as if listening to something nobody else could hear, and it sent a shiver down Felix’s spine.
Anchored.
“What are they saying?”
August’s lip curled. “They say you’re a pompous, pig-headed taesan with—”
The sentence cut off with a groan, his face twisting in pain before he dropped to his knees and folded in on himself.
Felix studied him curiously.
After a long stretch, August finally sat back on the ground and pulled in a shaky breath. He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his bound hands around them.
“What’s the story, Aesling? What was all that about?”
“Your presence makes me physically ill,” August mumbled, but his voice was heavy with exhaustion, and the insult was devoid of heat.
He really was sick. No wonder he was seeking help.
Something caught in Felix’s chest, and he chided himself for the weakness. “There’s a tear in the veil,” he said. “And it’s spreading. We’re keeping you alive to close it. Don’t mistake it for kindness.”
August looked up, dark eyes narrowing. “What?”
“You asked why we’re going to Fallowmoor. Why I don’t just kill you now. That’s why.”
A dozen different emotions crossed August’s face before it hardened into a frown. He glanced to the side again, searching the shadows.
After a long stretch of silence, Felix secured his prosthetic, tightening the straps before standing.
“We should keep moving.”
The sun finally peeked over the horizon as they came to the edge of the forest, meeting up with the wide road that stretched between Atheran’s largest cities.
A small hamlet sat in the distance, nestled among the sprawling, hilled farmland, the scenery painted the bright green of early spring.
A dirt path veered off from the main road, and Felix slowed his steps.
“Still got a long way to go,” he said, eyeing the houses. “We could stock up on food, find a water pump for a drink.”
“Don’t have much money on me,” Marlow answered. “They’re not gonna offer us anything out of the kindness of their hearts.”
“I wasn’t planning on asking. Looks like everyone’s still sleeping. We can grab what we need and get out.”
The windows were still dark when they reached the first house. Felix stopped just outside, listening for any movement.
When he was satisfied with the silence, he said, “Be right back.”
“I’ll go,” Marlow said, then sent a pointed look in August’s direction. “You watch him.”
Felix would rather not be the one sitting around out here, but it was the obvious smart choice. If August tried to escape, Felix only needed to be within sight to stop him.
“Right, yeah.” He drew a pistol and held it out to her, but she scoffed at the offer.
As she headed inside, he holstered the gun and slumped against the side of the house, eyes locked on August. Birds chattered around them, and a cloud blotted out the low sun. Felix shivered against the chill.
August stared straight ahead, biting at his lip, his expression turbulent.
A crash came from inside the house, followed by a panicked curse.
Felix reacted instantly, pushing off the wall and nearly tumbling up the steps. When he shoved through the front door and found Marlow in the back of the house, he froze.
A corpse lay at her feet in a dark puddle of blood, jagged rib fragments scattered around it like macabre puzzle pieces. A blacksmith’s hammer lay abandoned a few steps away. The stench of the room hit him like a physical blow, and he instinctively threw a hand up over his nose.
He took a slow step toward the corpse, careful to avoid the blood, eyes settling on the woman’s empty chest cavity. She was a wielder. The creatures would have left the heart otherwise.
“How long has she been dead?”
“A day,” Marlow answered. “Maybe two.”
Which meant the creature could still be close by.
Had it been a neighbor? Someone she’d trusted? Had she let them inside? Or worse, had they lived with her?
Marlow’s gaze jumped abruptly to the front of the house. “Where’s the aesling?”
Felix responded with a curse.