Chapter 3
I grabbed Theo’s arm, my fingers digging into his sleeve.
“Theo! Look!” I whispered urgently, pointing toward the rabbit. It had paused to nibble at something, its ears twitching with every forest sound. “Catch it.”
He turned to me with exaggerated slowness. “What in the world makes you think I could catch it?” he whisper-yelled back. “You catch it.”
“Must you be so useless? Just—” I shoved him, sending him hurtling forward, arms flailing wildly. His foot snagged on a tree root and he face-planted into the ground.
A small squeak pierced the forest silence, followed by nothing.
Oh no.
I covered my face with my hands, peeking through splayed fingers.
Theo sprang upright, his head bowed low and hands braced on his hips.
“Well, I hope you enjoy your rabbit…” he paused for dramatic effect, “…flattened.” He gestured toward the now very flat rabbit with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
I simultaneously wanted to laugh and cry.
Neither of us knew how to properly prepare the meat before cooking it, but I knew whatever we had done was completely wrong.
We both watched with open disgust as the mangled remains roasted over a crackling fire. The charred scent did absolutely nothing to entice us, but our hunger outweighed our distaste.
We sat in awkward silence, staring at the blackened meat in our hands. No one wanted to take the first bite.
Theo eyed his portion with deep suspicion.
“Are we actually going to eat this?” He turned it over, as if hoping it would magically turn into something edible.
I grimaced. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
I took a hesitant bite. The meat was tough and dry from being overcooked, making me chew far longer than I’d like. The taste was… awful. Bitter, charred, and barely tolerable. I fought the urge to gag.
“Mmm.” I exaggerated my reaction, closing my eyes as if to savour it. “So good.”
Theo, poor trusting soul that he was, encouraged by my act, took a large bite.
Big mistake.
His face contorted in a series of expressions—horror, betrayal, and disgust all rolled into one. He gagged between each laborious chew before swallowing it down with a painful-sounding gulp.
“What the fuck was that?” He glared at the offending piece of meat like he had been personally betrayed.
I burst into laughter, just managing to swallow my own mouthful. “No one told you to take such a big bite.”
He groaned. “You made it look so good!” His face went pale and his eyes unfocused. “Why is it so dry? It tastes like shit.”
I laughed harder, wiping a tear from my eye. Despite the horror of our meal, there was something comforting about this moment.
We forced down the rest, barely even chewing. It was a miserable experience, but at least the ache in our stomachs dulled.
The sun continued its slow descent—the sky tinged with hues of orange and pink. Zaheera’s pull grew stronger with every step, an invisible force pulling me deeper into the unknown.
By the time we reached a lake, our exhaustion clung to us like second skin. The cool, shimmering water too tempting to ignore.
“We should take turns,” I suggested, eager for some privacy.
Theo grinned. “Or…”
“No.”
He pouted but didn’t argue.
I win.
We were pulled from the depths of sleep by the unmistakable sound of leaves crunching nearby. My eyes shot open. Theo—equally startled—bolted upright, meeting my gaze in the glow of the small fire.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered.
Theo nodded, shifting into a crouch. He tilted his head towards the sound, ear almost touching his shoulder in an exaggerated pose.
“It’s coming from over there.” He gestured towards the trees behind us, where the darkness seemed to shift and stir.
“Okay then. Go check it out.” I gave him a small shove, sending him tumbling sideways.
He scrambled back, leaves stuck in his hair. “Are you insane?” he hissed, picking twigs from his sleeve. “Why don’t you go?”
We bickered in hushed tones, our words little more than frantic whispers, hands motioning wildly at one another. I jabbed my finger repeatedly at the woods while Theo kept pointing at me then back at himself, shaking his head vigorously.
Then we both felt it; that prickly sensation of being watched.
We turned our head in unison, Theo’s mouth hanging open mid-sentence.
A man stood a few steps away, watching us with an expression torn between amusement and intrigue. He leaned against a tree with ease, as though he’d been there for some time, listening.
“Sorry,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t mean to interrupt…” He waved a hand between us. “This.”
I shot to my feet, pulling Theo up beside me. “Why are you here?”
A stupid question really. I didn’t own the forest, but the words slipped out before I could think of something better.
Theo squared his shoulders. Setting his jaw like that alone should have been enough to intimidate the stranger, but the man didn’t so much as blink.
“I’m going beyond the Veil,” he said, matter-of-factly.
No one crossed the Veil. Not unless they had a death wish.
Theo, ever the reckless one, responded before I had the chance to stop him. “Us too.”
I turned to Theo so fast my neck almost snapped, my eyes wide in warning. Shut. Up.
The stranger didn’t react much to the revelation.
“Look, I was just passing through,” he said. “I needed a place to rest for the night. That’s all.”
I studied him closely, unable to help myself.
He was built like a solider, muscular though lean.
His posture rigid. Disciplined. He was older than us, his skin lightly bronzed from years beneath the sun and a jagged scar cutting across his right cheek.
His hair was dark, cropped short and his hazel eyes held something heavy in them.
I should’ve been wary, should’ve sent him on his way. Instead, it was my turn to do something reckless.
“You can stay with us,” I said, motioning to a spot near the fire.
Theo’s hand clamped onto my shoulder, yanking me back a step. “Are you out of your mind?” he whispered furiously. “He could kill us in our sleep!”
A small chuckle broke the tense air. “You know I can hear you right?” the man said, raising an amused brow.
Theo and I turned back to him, our faces burning with embarrassment. I forced a tight smile.
“I think we’ll be okay,” I muttered, ignoring Theo’s exasperated sigh.
I sank onto the ground near the fire, motioning again for the stranger to join us. “What’s your name?”
“Tavrik,” he answered, taking a seat.
“I’m Elira, and this—” I grabbed Theo’s arm and yanked him down beside me, “is Theo.”
Theo glared at Tavrik like he was a wild animal that had wandered too close. “So, why are you going beyond the Veil?”
Tavrik’s jaw tightened, the question clearly unwelcome. He hesitated before speaking, his fingers drumming rhythmically on his knee.
“Let’s just say I’ve worn out my welcome on this side.” His eyes darted to the shadows, as if expecting someone to leap out at any moment. “The ‘why’ isn’t important.”
He poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks flying into the air. One landed on Theo’s sleeve. He slapped at it frantically while Tavrik and I pretended not to notice.
“The Veil is my destination. That’s all you need to know.”
I studied him again, searching for any sign of deceit. His face revealed noting, which somehow made me trust him more, or maybe I was just terrible at reading people.
The fire cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the tension in his brow. He looked… tired.
Tavrik stared into the flames as though he had long ago accepted his fate.
“Are you two… together?” he asked, his eyes darting between us.
“No,” I said firmly.
“Yes,” Theo replied at the exact same time. I elbowed him hard in the ribs, making him grunt.
Tavrik bit back a smile.
We spoke for hours after that, sharing bits of our lives and our villages.
Tavrik—despite his closed-off demeanour—spoke of the Veil, and how he’d seen it once before.
He described the pull of its strange allure but quickly changed the subject when I pressed for more details.
Every time the conversation veered towards his reasons for crossing, he’d redirect with surprising skill or suddenly become fascinated with the fire.
A part of me wanted to tell Tavrik everything. About my mother, the bargain, the truth behind my purpose for crossing into the Jinn realm. Maybe having him by our side would help.
But he was still a stranger.
I knew nothing about him beyond the sharp way he carried himself, the small details he shared and the unwavering steadiness in his gaze.
He had the quiet confidence of a man who had seen things—done things.
He could be anyone. A threat, a liar, a pawn of something greater.
A man who snored loudly, as we discovered when he dozed off mid-sentence, his head dropping forward before he jerked awake again, denying he’d been asleep at all.
And yet, something about him was unsettling.
Not out of fear nor suspicion, but an odd sense of familiarity. Like I had known him for years instead of mere hours. Something in the way he held my gaze, his expression patient like he had all the time in the world to listen.
It had been so long since someone had simply listened to me without interrupting every five seconds to add their own opinion, I glanced pointedly at Theo.
I’d spent my life keeping people at arm’s length, burying my fears and struggles beneath layers of silence. That was how I learned to survive. Sort it out yourself. Trust no one. I was my mother’s daughter in that way.
I debated telling him for what felt like forever, staring into the dying embers of the fire, tracing patterns in the dirt with the tip of my finger. Stealing glances at him when I thought he wouldn’t notice.
But he did notice.