Chapter 13
TOURON
“W here’s Cam?” There’s less than forty minutes left on the clock, and she isn’t back yet.
“There’s plenty of time,” Shar says. “She’ll make it back.”
Shar and Waxen were already here when Dayn and I got back.
I think part of the reason we made it through to extraction so quickly is because we couldn’t wait to get away from each another.
That and my excellent sense of direction.
The catacombs we had to go through to find our extraction point were creepy as fuck, though.
There’s no sign of Farnell, and Willowman is busy cleaning his nails with a pen knife, nails he’s painted purple and black.
Where is Cam?
The port lights up, and my heart leaps with hope. Palia appears, trailed by Saffe. They high-five one another, shaking water from their hair. Even though their lastonflex suits are dry.
“River?” Shar asks.
“Extraction was at the bottom of a damn lake,” Saffe says.
“Luckily, I can hold my breath for ages,” Ginia says with a dirty smirk.
Is Saffe blushing?
Curi appears next, with Palia clinging to his back.
“Palia!” Ginia rushes forward to take her sister from Curi. Palia is pale, but other than that she looks exhilarated.
“What happened?” Shar asked.
“The extraction point was via a zipline,” Curi says. “Just the one. We had to take it together or risk one of us getting stranded. The mechanism for calling it back was busted.”
“Lucky you checked,” Saffe says.
“Palia checked,” Curi says. “I wouldn’t have otherwise.” He looks annoyed at himself.
We’re all here except Cam and Bax. “What’s taking them so long?”
“Shouldn’t Mason be the one worrying?” Dayn sneers. “Or have you got a hard-on for the halfblood too?”
“Fuck you, Dayn,” Curi says flatly.
“No,” Dayn says. “How about I fuck you?”
Ginia snorts.
Dayn frowns and shakes his head. “I mean…I didn’t mean…”
“We know what you meant,” Palia says primly. “But there is no need to be vulgar.”
Dayn flinches, then catches himself. “Whatever. I don’t have to listen to you.” He turns his attention back to Curi. “I can make your life here very uncomfortable, Mason. You know it.”
Curi’s shoulders heave, and when he raises his head, his eyes are like chips of obsidian. “Go for it, Dayn. I don’t give a shit. But the other parties involved in your story might.”
Dayn’s eyes narrow. “You think that’ll stop me?”
“I don’t care.”
Dayn’s jaw flexes. “Of course you don’t. Your reputation is already in the mud now that you’re fucking a halfblood.”
“Shut up, Lowther,” Willowman drawls from his position by the gate.
Dayn snaps his mouth closed, but I can tell he wants to make a retort.
Maybe put Willowman in his place. Lowther might not be one of the big five, but it’s still a prestigious bloodline, and to Dayn, Willowman is just the help, but he’s also a witch with the kind of power that Dayn can only ever dream about.
So the goyle does the wise thing and shuts the hell up.
The crunch of gravel signals Farnell’s return. He counts heads, eyes crinkling at the corners when he realizes we’re missing two. “How much longer?” he asks Willowman.
Is that a flash of concern on the witch’s face? “Not too much longer.”
Come on, Cam. Where the fuck are you?