CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
My back hit the ground with a dull thud, the impact emptying my lungs.
I was alive. Uninjured.
My back would be purple and blue, but I was alive.
I wheezed for air, eyes scrunching shut so tightly that little flecks of color sparked behind my lids.
Throbbing pain blasted through every inch of me, shattering the remnants of my heart, my soul. My eyelashes stuck to my cheeks, already soaked with unshed tears.
Theia hadn’t been praying for me. She’d been praying for herself. For Brannon.
But they weren’t the right words. The payer wasn’t absolutely necessary, but it prepared the Hearth of Song for a soul’s passage.
A token of good luck. Should it go unspoken, a person’s soul risked having a harder time finding it.
Or risked being accidentally played into the Underworld rather than the Overworld.
Please, let it not be too late. It was hard to speak around the pain. But I tried anyway. “L-lay thy soul—"
“Getting ahead of ourselves again, are we?”
Strong hands hauled me to my feet. Continued to support my weight despite my buckling knees. Kodhan’s concerned face filled my vision, blurred so thoroughly that I barely recognized him. “You took quite the fall, but we’re staying right here.”
“They’re gone,” I croaked. His features slowly came into focus.
“I know,” was his only answer. He swiped a thumb along the side of my neck, where the cut still hadn’t scabbed over. His concern turned into something murderous.
“They’re gone. She pushed me.” Bile filled my mouth, putrid and bitter. “She pushed me, and she said the wrong prayer. I have to say the right p-prayer,” I insisted, fighting for breath.
That same glow ignited behind his irises. And I could almost see the flames there, waiting to be let free. Release it, I almost said. Release it all, and don’t stop until the entire kingdom is devoured.
To my disappointment, he reeled in his magic. The glow dimmed with a sharp exhale through his nostrils. “Don’t worry about the prayer. They’ll make it.” He eased his grip, testing for my potential collapse. “Are you hurt? Can you move on your own?”
Each thump of my heart ached more than the last. My back throbbed, and my neck stung. I wanted to curl into a tiny ball and weep forever.
“No, I’m fine. I can run.”
His expression softened, like he could see right through the lie. “The forest is our best chance. We just need to be careful, there will likely be traps. And the remaining two will be ready to fight.”
“Then we fight back. We will win.” I dared a glance at the ruined remains of the watchtower. “I promise.”
An invisible crater formed deep inside my chest. Stretching until it consumed me entirely. But time still tiptoed ahead. It would not pause for me, no matter what I felt. I had to continue.
Both dragons followed our every movement, their eerie white eyes unblinking. The one who destroyed the watchtower slithered in our direction, claws crunching on the remains. My attention snagged on a shimmering line near the base of its neck.
It was faint, barely perceptible as we backed into the forest, but there was indeed a shimmering band around both of them.
Barely the thickness of my pinky finger and only visible when the moon angled just right.
An even thinner thread connected to the bands around their throats, trailing into the forest to their left.
“Look at their necks,” I muttered. “Near their shoulders.”
Kodhan’s brows lowered. “What am I looking for?”
“A thin, shimmering necklace.” Realization jarred through me. “No, a collar.” We were so close to the trees. I could’ve reached out and touched one. The dragons slinked closer, allowing that string to shimmer again. “There.”
“I see it.”
“We need to follow that thread.”
“It could be a trap.”
“Or it could be our salvation.” This was Wit, after all. Pieces of its puzzle would not be evidently described.
For all his faults, Kodhan didn’t hesitate. Near-blinding light flashed from a wave of fire taller than the trees. Another wave immediately followed. They wouldn’t hurt the dragons, but they covered our movements while we sprinted between the trees to follow the shimmering thread.
The branches would shield us from enemy eyes, but contrarily kept almost all light from the moon and stars from breaching the forest. I could hardly see five feet in front of me, and the thread was even harder to spot now that our only source of light was limited.
Using fire to light our way wasn’t an option—the dragons would spot us immediately.
Ear-splitting roars shook the trees, vibrating deep within my bones.
“Thank you,” I said. “For distracting them. For not killing me. For saving me countless times. All of it.” I would never have the chance to thank Theia or Brannon. But it wasn’t too late to thank Kodhan.
His mouth curved into that insufferable smirk. “Careful, little viper. Someone might think you actually mean that.”
Wings cracked like thunder above our heads. They were already on the hunt.
“I wouldn’t mind taking it back. I wouldn’t mind tripping you, either.”
Despite it all, his laugh brought a smile of my own.
“There’s one.”
We were surrounded by nothing but roots and darkness. “What do you mean?”
“I said you could bring me to my knees with one look alone. The one you’re wearing is one of them.”
Before I could fight the rising flush in my cheeks, Kodhan braced an arm across my middle, slowing us both.
A much smaller clearing spread out before us, littered with brambles of thorns and a running creak that breached its center, winding in twisted curves until it disappeared further into the forest. Moss covered everything else, filling the air with its earthy scent.
A woman, clad in heavy white robes, stood with her back to us. Ink-colored hair hung limp down her back, swaying in tandem with her lifted hands. She weaved and curled her fingers, each one wrapped with shimmering strings. A puppeteer manipulating her dolls.
“Looks like we’ve found our salvation,” Khodhan said grimly. The thread we’d been following led right to her. It broke down into two sections, then again into ten equal parts.
“The dragons are puppets.”
He nodded. “She’s the one we need to kill.”
“Then we kill her.” I made to step around him. But he held out his arm again.
I glared up at him as he shook his head. “There could be traps laid anywhere in the clearing.”
Fine.
I placed my free hand flat onto his chest. Against the steady beat of his heart. Let it slide lower, until it reached the plane of his stomach, then lifted myself up on my toes. Our noses ghosted across one another. His lips parted as I brought our mouths closer.
“You’re in my way,” I whispered, brushing my lips over his. Just that small contact raised goosebumps along my arms.
Before my hand could go any lower, I shoved at him, relishing his stark surprise. He stumbled back a single step. It was all I needed.
He’d been too focused on my wandering hand to notice me palm one of my daggers with the other.
Whirling to face the woman, I threw it.
My cheek hit moss before I could see where it landed.
Kodhan wasn’t the only distracted one, it seemed. I hadn’t felt the pressure wind around my ankles until they were pulled out from underneath me.
The blade sunk into the bark of the tree nearest to the woman, narrowly missing her back.
She twisted, and I choked in equal parts pain and horror. Milky, iris-less eyes bore into me, identical to the dragons’. Her mouth opened on a silent scream which drew my attention to the abnormal purple and blue tint of her lips. She was terrifying.
Immediately, her fingers began weaving again. Summoning her puppets.
Thorns pierced my skin—digging deeper as I slid across dirt and grass. “Not this again,” I seethed, kicking at my restraints. Roots. Gnarled, splintering roots. They wouldn’t budge no matter how hard I kicked.
“Don’t bother struggling.”
The voice came from the same direction I was being dragged in. One of the two women we’d seen run into the woods stood between the crooks of two trees, their roots sprouting at her feet. She’d used the puppeteer to her advantage. As a distraction.
Kodhan shouted behind me. Straining to look over my shoulder, I found him fighting against my attacker’s ally, who sprouted vine after vine, wielding them like spears.
Those, he burned like they were nothing to him.
It was the large branches swinging at him simultaneously that were tougher, faster.
They took more time to wither into ash and struck at him with the same relentless force until the very last moment.
And she knew his tactics well. Had likely seen what he’d done to Leyah during Strength. She cocooned herself in layers upon layers of branches and thorns, pushing them outwards like a shield every time his fire got too close.
He didn’t need me distracting him. Not when a roar split the air nearby. The dragons were getting closer.
I grappled onto every surface that protruded from the dirt, hoping to slow my path. To think. But it wasn’t enough. The roots were too strong.
“I said don’t struggle!”
I paused. Let her drag me closer.
Her expression revealed nothing other than anger and frustration. But a tremble wracked her hands, so much that she swooped them behind her back. To hide them.
Weaknesses are not always visible, Gideon had told me, on that one night.
And she’d just revealed hers.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
“Shut up!” Her entire body shook now. “Don’t say a single word!”
“You are afraid,” I pressed on, fingers inching toward the two blades strapped around my bicep. I had to be careful. I was running out faster than I’d anticipated. “You don’t know what it feels like to take someone’s life. What kind of stain it will leave on your soul.”