Chapter 17
I should have been more scared than I was.
None of what I was doing was safe or smart.
I was running Celeste next to a feared seraph, toward a forest filled with dryads and militia, to look for clues that humans were being brought into Tironaill.
But I had to go. If humans were being brought into Tironaill, I needed to know why and how.
I was certain that the answers to both questions would throw me on a path filled with brambles and thorns.
This may be dangerous, but it was the only lead I had to go on.
The door back to Edenalee was slammed in my face as quickly as it opened for me at Toolock Estate.
A gift from Clotha ripped from me the second she gave it.
I was starting to think this was less of a game for her and more of a vendetta.
The dark forest on the horizon was ominous as we approached.
I couldn’t tell if it was the nerves from the impending situation I was willingly plunging myself into, or that the trees were denser, crowding out the sunlight and making the space between some kind of fairytale lesson on why we don’t venture alone into the woods.
I peered up to the sky, where a dark bird followed overhead. It felt like an omen.
“Darragh?” I asked shakily. “Is it just me, or has that raven been following us in every direction we have gone since we left Aquila City?”
“Yes. He is mine. He stays close by to send correspondence when needed.”
I blew out a breath. “I was worried he was some harbinger of impending doom for us.”
Darragh scoffed. “Hardly.” His chestnut brown eyes traced the tree line. “I need you to stay hypervigilant and quiet as we enter the forest. No more chatting. Can you do that?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you saying I talk too much?”
“Not at all, my lady.” He dropped his head, fighting a grin.
Oh, he’s trying to be funny now?
Celeste and Astorath’s steps softened as we entered the darkened forest. Darragh kept his hand on a silver dagger and his head on a swivel. I was already regretting talking him into letting me come here.
We stopped the horses at a deep and wide ravine. “Let’s head further north for now. It is too steep for the horses to…” Darragh paused. His head tilted, and his body tensed.
We were about half a mile from the barrier, and the air was charged with electric enmity with every step we took toward it.
There was a buzzing under my skin, prickling up my spine to the back of my neck.
Or maybe that was my fear turning and twisting inside.
My chest rose and fell quicker, and I tried to stifle the sound of my increased breath.
Muffled voices carried in the distance, but in this forest, I couldn’t tell if they were close or far away with how sound moved around the thick trees and dense canopy above.
I looked at Darragh, and he tipped his head in acknowledgment.
The hairs on my arms rose. I was getting a flashback from the dryad attack.
It felt too familiar, and my heart raced at the thought of it.
What in the underworld were you thinking, Rory? You aren’t equipped for this.
Darragh laid a gentle hand on my trembling forearm, and my attention went to his chestnut eyes. He put a finger to his lips to stay quiet as more muffled voices carried to us on the wind.
He angled toward me, leaning in close. His voice lowered to barely a whisper, warm breath grazing my rounded ear.
“We are going to walk the horses up toward that craggy rock formation there,” he pointed.
“It should keep you covered. You will stay with Celeste and Astorath while I go check out where the voices are coming from. Do not leave that spot unless someone approaches. If it is anyone other than me, run Celeste out of this forest as fast as you can. Do you understand, my lady?”
“You’re leaving me alone?” I whispered a little more nervously than I meant to.
“I cannot take you close to voices. Please trust me, my lady.”
“Rory,” I countered.
He ignored me. “Tell me you will stay hidden.” Darragh’s eyes softened.
“I will,” I promised him.
We angled the horses in between the large, jagged boulders so I could look out, but others wouldn’t be able to see me unless they stood right in front of me.
He unsheathed one of his silver daggers and handed it to me.
“Aim for the throat if you can.” He drew a line across his throat with his finger.
Should I tell him I don’t know how to use this thing?
Astorath nudged Darragh with his muzzle as he walked past him. “I know, boy. It is alright,” he reassured.
“Darragh?” I spouted. He looked back at me over his shoulder. “Please be safe.”
Without another word, he stalked away.
I twisted my fingers, and as I watched raven-black hair disappear down the ravine, an eminent vulnerability weaved through me, and I felt entirely stupid for getting myself into this situation.
This would be the cursed portion of my stubbornness.
One in which I usually didn’t see until it was practically in front of my nose.
I only heard muffled voices twice more, but the way they filtered through the trees made it seem like they were moving away from my location, thank Clotha. Astorath was getting antsy and kept shifting his weight between legs, occasionally looking back at me like I should know what was happening.
An hour passed. Then two. At least, it felt that long.
My concept of time was skewed without being able to see where the sun sat in the sky.
With every passing moment, I got increasingly more agitated, twisting my hands with an occasional shudder running up and down my spine.
He should’ve been back by now. A low fog rolled in, blanketing the leaf-covered ground as the light of the forest dimmed.
A distant twig snapped, making me jolt in the saddle. I blinked away the flash of memory of stinging nettles twisting up my ankles and a sneering mouth labelling me as weak.
You’re alright, Rory. Breath.
I closed my eyes and took three cleansing breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out. I unclenched my taut muscles and sank more into the saddle.
Another hour passed. My legs were starting to numb from sitting so still in the same position, and the chill was deepening through me.
I have to go look for him. A stupid thought. One in which he would be pissed about. I couldn’t imagine him leaving me vulnerable to attack for so long. My intuition swirled inside me, telling me there was something wrong.
I dismounted Celeste, my legs aching from the amount of time I spent in the saddle. She pawed at the ground in protest at what I was about to do, and Astorath pushed against me with his head as if he were trying to keep me from leaving. “Don’t you two start,” I scolded.
The silver dagger was clenched in my shaking hand, and I hesitated at the entrance of our hiding spot.
What if a dryad attacks me? My legs wouldn’t take the step necessary to leave, rooted into the forest floor as much as the trees were.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I won’t be bullied by fear. He needs me.
I opened my eyes, pulled an intake of breath, and I strode out of our hiding spot in the direction Darragh had last headed toward.
I hoped I’d made the right decision, but I couldn’t sit there any longer.
I had to be sure something didn’t happen to him.
The stillness added to the eerie energy rolling through the forest from the barrier.
Only the occasional rustling of autumn leaves from a light breeze cut the quiet.
Everything else was silent, like the forest waited on bated breath to see what I would do or what would happen to me during this idiotic decision.
Miles and miles I walked, focusing on making the least amount of noise possible.
Seraph hearing was better than humans’, and I wasn’t sure if my careful steps would even be deemed as soft.
I dodged twigs and branches on the forest floor, unsure if I was traveling in the right direction, and I realized too late that I might need to find my way back to Astorath and Celeste alone.
So stupid, Rory!
Muffled voices floated through the trees, pausing my descent into a small gully.
I listened, holding my breath, and followed the sounds, stepping with purpose to avoid giving away my location.
The voices became louder, and the smell of smoke drifted in the air.
A glow shone through the darkening forest, and I drifted toward it like a moth to a flame with a knowing I would find Darragh among the figures silhouetted by the flickering firelight.
Three men, all wearing dark face coverings, walked around the fire.
I positioned myself behind a wide tree trunk.
The rough bark dug into my torso and hands as I pushed myself against it.
One of the men shifted to the side, and my eyes grew wide at the sight of another man tied to a tree, bruised and bleeding from his nose.
His left eye was swollen, but he still looked up at me as I peered from behind the oak.
Darragh.
He snapped his gaze away but firmly shook his head once and creased his brow. His torso was tied to a tree, and his hands were bound and wrapped behind the trunk. I had watched this man take on bigger seraphs than these three, and I questioned why he withheld his own divine power.
One of the seraphs, thin and dressed in a loose tunic and brown pants, addressed his partners. “It’s getting late. We can’t take him back to the boss tonight. The sun is almost down.”
“Fine, but we are taking turns guarding him. I am not getting stuck staying up all night again while you lazy assholes sleep,” the stocky man grumbled.
The largest of the group stood in front of Darragh, glaring down at him, but Darragh only stared back at him with a look of boredom. “Will your enchant hold all night, E?”
The thin man scoffed. “Ye have little faith! Of course it will hold.”