Chapter Nine
LILY
“Ready?” Calyx asked a few moments after he and I finished gearing up with what little we had left.
Sliding my new dragon bone sword—for which, I still needed to come up with a name—into my empty scabbard, I glanced up at Calyx and took stock of his wing. As though sensing my inspection, he stretched it out, then shook himself from head to toe.
“I’m good to go if you are,” he said.
“I am.”
This was a simple recon mission. Quick in and out. Log the outpost’s size, assess the defences, count heads, then return. No heroics, no fighting. Just stealth, stealth, and more stealth.
At least, that was the plan. But my body still hummed with unease.
Logic and reality often differed. I might go in expecting nothing more than to look around and end up fighting for my life.
All I needed was to think about last night to remind myself of that little fact.
I’d gone to sleep feeling safe and happy, and woken up to a battle that resulted in me burying a friend.
I reminded myself that I was far from helpless. I had my new blade, born from a hell dragon. I had my new shadow abilities and my newfound wings. If Calyx so much as looked at me wrong, I’d bury him six feet under with a smile on my face.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Calyx lifted a brow and nodded toward my back. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Right.
I closed my eyes and called on my magic.
Shadows instantly surged forth, and twin pulses of cold flared outward from my shoulder blades.
I stretched my wings wide, then turned my head to peer at them.
Their sheer beauty struck me speechless.
Ghostly and dark, yet with veins of hellfire running through them.
My shadow and fire magic brought to life in a way I’d never imagined possible.
Boots crunched behind me, and Rathiel came into view. He stopped just behind my wings, then raised his hand and brushed them with his fingers.
His touch passed through, but I still felt it, and shivered. A small wisp of shadow curled around his fingers, then released him.
“They’re not solid,” he murmured.
“Looks like,” I said.
Rathiel’s eyes darted to mine. I distantly heard Calyx clear his throat before he mumbled something about being somewhere over there, away from us. He strode to the outer edge of camp and sat on a broken rock, silently waiting.
Once alone, Rathiel reached for my hand, which I slowly pulled back.
He sighed. “What’s going on, Lily?”
I didn’t answer. I knew what he meant, but this didn’t seem the right time for this conversation. Not that he’d give me much choice in the situation.
“Come on, talk to me. Don’t shut me out,” he said. “You’ve barely looked at me since you killed the dragon. And now you’re taking Calyx, of all people, with you on this mission, and leaving me behind.”
“This isn’t about you,” I said, but the words felt hollow.
He exhaled through his nose, and his jaw tightened. “Then what is this about? Don’t lie to me, don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. Something’s different.”
Different? Everything was different. Didn’t he understand that? Anger heated my blood. “Are you kidding me right now?” I hissed. “Sable is dead. Don’t you get it?”
His eyes narrowed. “I know Sable is dead. But what am I not getting?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and drew a deep breath, frustration boiling within me.
Why did Rathiel have to choose now to have this conversation? Why couldn’t he have waited until I returned? My emotions were all over the place right now, and I hadn’t had any time to process recent events.
Why couldn’t he have just waited? I wanted to plunge my hands into my hair and pull, but I restrained myself. Barely.
“Lily,” he pushed. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He wanted to know? Fine.
I released my breath, then snapped open my eyes to find him staring at me with a deeply furrowed brow. “Sable is dead,” I repeated, my tone harsher than I’d intended. “She’s dead, Rathiel. And it’s my fault.”
“What? No. The dragon—”
“The dragon killed her, I know,” I shot back. “But we weren’t here when the damn thing attacked. And because we weren’t here, that fucking dragon killed her. Do you get it now? It eviscerated her! She was my friend, and that monster tore her apart like she was nothing more than a meal!”
My voice had risen so high that I’d attracted the attention of everyone else. The camp had gone deathly silent, all eyes on me. And that just made it worse. Damn Rathiel for making me talk about this right now.
“Lily, this is not your fault. There’s no way we could have known—”
I threw my hands up in the air. “But we should have, right?” I shouted. “We should have known, Rathiel! This is fucking Hell! We know it isn’t safe. We know it’s full of fucking hellspawn and monsters and my fucking father!”
I released a frustrated cry and batted at the stupid tears streaking my cheeks. Great. Now I was crying. And not because I was sad, but because I was so damn mad. Why couldn’t he have just understood that I needed time? Why did he have to push? And why didn’t he understand what was wrong?
“We never should have left the camp,” I continued, the words spilling from my lips now. “We let our damn emotions distract us. We left! And all because we wanted to fuck!”
I clamped my mouth shut after that, regretting my words, but the damage was already done.
Rathiel’s jaw went tight, and he forcibly swallowed. He took a step back, and he averted his gaze. Then he nodded. “You blame me.”
A fissure of my anger cooled. Not enough for me to reach out to him, but enough to soften my tone. “No. I blame me. Only me. I’m the leader of our group. I should have known better than to sneak off for a quick roll in the hay. I traded Sable’s life for blissful, momentary satisfaction.”
Okay, I was being harsh. But that understanding didn’t stop me. I hadn’t wanted to discuss this, but now that we were, the words kept erupting out of me like lava.
Rathiel’s head snapped back to me. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” I argued. “But it sure is damn cruel. If we hadn’t left the camp, if we’d been here where we belonged—”
“Then maybe we’d be dead,” he cut in. “Have you thought about that?”
“No, because all I can think about right now is that I just buried my friend.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “She was one of mine, Rathiel. She and Mephisar have been with me from the start. She protected me. She loved me. And I…abandoned her. And she died.”
For ten years, she’d survived Hell without me. But the moment I’d returned—days after we reunited—she was gone. Because of me. Because of my stupid war with my father. If I’d just stayed on Earth… if I hadn’t snuck off with Rathiel… if we’d come back sooner…
Rathiel’s brow softened, and his anger ebbed, but pain flashed in his eyes. “You can’t really believe that.” He reached for my hand, and this time I let him take it. “Lily, you can’t control everything. You aren’t responsible for protecting us. And you didn’t abandon her.”
“It’s my job to protect everyone here. End of discussion.” I straightened my shoulders and knuckled away my tears. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Calyx and I have a job to do.”
Before Rathiel could utter another word, I turned and strode off.
I couldn’t take the look in his eyes. I’d hurt him, and I hadn’t intended for that, but once the words started flowing, I hadn’t been able to rein them in.
A part of me wanted to apologize, but the other part actually felt a little better for getting it off my chest. Grief was like that.
It made you say, believe, and think things. Some irrational, some brutally honest.
But maybe now he would understand.
I was halfway to Calyx when Eliza stepped into my periphery. “Whoa, Lily, wait. Don’t leave like this.”
I spared her a glance, noting her tight expression. “I have somewhere to be.”
“Hey, come on. Talk to me for a moment.”
“Eliza,” I growled. Why did everyone want to talk? “I’m fine.”
“You’re very clearly not.”
She tugged on my arm, but I shrugged her off.
“Check on Purrgy and Vol. Make sure they’re okay,” I said. Then, before anyone could interrupt me, I launched myself skyward, instantly putting distance between me and the camp. I carved through the smoky, ashy air, the wind screaming past my ears.
For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and let myself revel in the sensation of flying. Then I blinked them open and focused on the horizon. On our mission.
It didn’t take long for Calyx to catch up. Thankfully, the wind was too loud for us to speak over, but he did eye me for a few moments. I ignored his attention and simply kept flying.
Side by side, we sliced through the heated air currents, our wings flapping in tandem. An hour had passed when finally, we crested over a jagged ridge, and Calyx pointed down. My gaze searched the terrain until I spotted a worn-down watchtower. Only then did we descend.
We landed in unison, my steps a bit staggered. Once I had my balance, we silently hurried toward a small pile of boulders sitting atop the cliff and tucked behind them. From there, we peeked over, and I snuck my first look at the outpost.
It was nestled in a rocky valley below, positioned so the natural outcrops provided a stone wall around the perimeter.
Massive boulders veined with molten cracks that pulsed with dull red light reinforced the northern gates.
Magic or hellfire? I reached out with my senses and felt the hellfire flare in response.
Alright, that was good. Hellfire, I could manage. But magic would be trickier.
Inside the camp, fires burned in iron pits throughout, lending the place a hellish aesthetic my father seemed incapable of moving on from.
Hellspawn stomped about, most armoured. A few walked the perimeter, while a couple stood stationed atop the watchtower.
They hadn’t spotted our approach, so they clearly weren’t good at their jobs.
But their incompetence worked to our benefit.