Chapter 20
Graysen
Sensations pelted me like raindrops drumming upon a pool of water, each one splashing and sinking, deepening the well of emotion.
Nelle, Nelle, Nelle…
Something’s wrong, wrong, wrong…
Loose stones crunched beneath my boots as I trudged through the tunnel, spinning a wyrm dagger around and around to bleed off my rising worry for Nelle.
My skin burned cold, then sweltered. It prickled with arrogance, then grew clammy with despair before scorching with fury.
Nelle’s emotions changed so swiftly, it was like trying to catch a zephyr with bare fingers.
Unease strummed every taut nerve in my body like an out-of-tune lyre, and that feral thing inside me hissed through my bloodstream. I swore I felt a creak of bones, a phantom twinge of pain as if something had caught my wrist and clawed in deep.
If Yezekael weren’t so tall and cumbersome with those wings, I’d have slung him over my shoulder and dashed for the surface to dump him at Sirro’s feet—my brother’s order to stay with the bodyguards be damned—and gone straight for the Keep to find out what the fuck was going on with Nelle.
My brothers…
My aunt…
I wasn’t sure what would happen when Aunt Valarie returned from her surveillance of the Pellans, or what Jett intended to do the moment he received word that Jurgana was at the Emporium. A shiver trickled down my spine at the memory of the last time I’d been at that creepy fucking place.
A voice, feminine and curious, cleaved through my unsettled thoughts. “What do you think Sirro wants with him?”
I darted a sidelong glance at Mela leaning in, her gaze locked on Yezekael’s back and the drooping leathery wings clamped together with a cuff.
She’d tracked my whereabouts and arrived earlier with a swarm of V?duvas and Crowthers.
Jiao and Petra had accompanied her, while most of our medics and a contingent of our forces remained behind to tend to the wounded and get them topside.
Now Petra led our slow procession through a passageway where water drizzled down the walls and seeped along the pitted floor.
We moved as quietly as we could through the catacombs, carefully avoiding krekenn nests and slumbering serpents.
Petra’s voice was pitched low, but her barked orders still rang through the tunnel, mingling with the splash of our footfalls and the rattle of chains.
I frowned at Yezekael limping ahead of us, the tips of his wings dragging on the wet, gritty ground. His shoulders were hunched in pain and defeat. There was no escape, and he fucking knew it.
“No idea,” I told Mela, though I planned to get a little pushy with Sirro for an answer as to why he’d been hunting the lesser creature for so long.
The frayed glow of her flashlight skimmed the glistening walls and bobbed over Yezekael.
Magic crackled through the bar-linked cuffs locking his wrists together.
Besides the harsh cuff pinning his wings, two more bit his ankles, a short chain between them hobbling every step.
Even if he could break free of the magic, I doubted he had the strength to run.
After the Uzrek had thrust him at me and disappeared into the darkness, I’d stripped off the harnesses strapped to his chest, all those pouches filled with fuck-knows-what, and tossed them aside.
Cleaning the bleeding wound as best I could, I slapped on a poultice and bound the tattered wing with cobwebby bandages.
He’d endured it silently, limbs trembling, clammy sweat breaking across his ashen skin.
I wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to fly again, but that wasn’t my problem.
I dug my fingertips into my collarbone, trying to massage away an ache.
Exhaustion limned every inch of me. I was at a loss what hour it was and how long we’d been down here.
Time meant nothing without the sun or moon to guide me, and the journey upward was agonizingly slow with the creature dragging our pace.
Even if I wanted to push faster, I wasn’t sure I had it in me.
My wounds had healed, but I felt like I’d been hit by a truck and then run over a few more times to ensure I was fucking done in.
Yezekael glanced back again, as he’d done the entire weary trek through the tunnels. Those strange eyes studied me in that long, stretched face. Considering. Curious.
My nostrils flared as I glared back, spinning my wyrmblade faster. Fear swept over his tense features, and he jerked his head forward, limping a little quicker.
Mela cleared her throat before she spoke again. “Listen, Gray, there’s something I need to tell you.”
My fingers clamped the dagger’s hilt, stopping its spin. Unease rose at the urgency in her tone, the hesitation. I cocked a brow, waiting patiently for her to elaborate as we continued through the tunnel.
She glanced furtively over her shoulder before meeting my gaze. “There’s gossip running rife around the Houses. They’ve put two and two together. At Evelene’s…” Her voice broke. She ducked her head, running a shaky hand over her braids, dusty and tangled. “A-At her engagement c-ceremony…”
Wretchedness crushed my heart. It hurt to see her in pain.
I reached for her immediately, knowing how hard it was for her to even think about the slaughter at the temple.
My hand wrapped around her long, cold fingers.
I squeezed gently, and she squeezed back.
Our pace slowed, and I bowed my head closer, bringing my mouth to her ear.
“As soon as Evelene gives the word, we’re going to get Elyse back. ”
She shook her head. “Our plan’s fallen apart.”
“What do you mean?”
“Evelene can’t find a way in.”
“She can’t?”
“Corné’s blocking every attempt she makes to be allowed into his family’s laboratory.”
Oh fuck. And with no way in, there was no way to rescue Elyse.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. There’s got to be another way to get inside.”
She nodded and sniffed, her gaze lifting to mine, eyes bright with unshed tears. Wrinkling her nose, she tried to grin and hit me playfully on the arm, no doubt about to say something self-deprecating to lighten the mood, but I stopped her.
“Don’t bother, V?duva. We’ve known each other since we were knee-high.” We’d become best friends after slipping away from our governesses at a House Gathering to play soldiers in an orchard, using overripe peaches as grenades. I slung my arm over her shoulders. “If you need to cry, cry.”
Mela refused. Her quivering mouth pinched into a hard line as she curled her hand into a white-knuckled fist, forcing her misery back down. “I’m good,” she rasped.
No, she wasn’t. I didn’t need to taste the lie to know it.
“Mela…” Fuck. I’d put so much on her shoulders because I needed her help to sort out the mess I’d gotten Nelle into.
I needed her to do it because I could never learn the cottage’s location.
And I needed someone I trusted implicitly to stop me from hunting for it later.
Damp hair skimmed my knuckles as I dragged my hand holding the dagger across my head.
“Why don’t you take some time out from all of this? I can handle what I asked—”
Mela swiveled out from under my arm, grabbed my bandoleer and yanked the leather strap to drag me closer. Determination glowed fierce and wild. “Hells no, I need this, Gray. I need to keep working. I’ll go crazy if I’m sitting at home with nothing to do.”
I understood. My whole family did. We knew what it meant to keep busy, how it helped. Though it felt wrong, I nodded once, guilt tightening my breath. “Okay.”
She released the bandoleer but kept her hand pressed to my chest, tapping her fingers in time with her words. “Thanks.” Her gaze softened. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I do know you. I know it’s important I do this for you.”
A hard knot formed in my throat. “Thank you.”
A real smile, full of pride, cut through the gloom as she leveled it at me. “You’re changing the game.”
Fuck yes, I was. Like she’d told me weeks ago, I’d become the third player.
A breath later, her bright smile dimmed. Wariness entered her gaze as she studied my face, her brows drawing together before she whispered, “You do know there’s going to be a loser in all of this.”
The ominous note in her tone felt like a tolling bell.
Deep down, I’d always known that too.
I just hadn’t wanted to face the truth.
My head felt as if lead had been poured into it when I nodded.
She pushed back a step, bouncing on the balls of her feet, giving me a tight, small smile. Knocking her elbow into my arm, she angled her chin toward Yezekael’s retreating back. “Come on,” she urged, pushing into a hasty pace to catch up with him and the others.
Matching her stride, Mela continued in a low voice, picking right up where we’d left off. “You need to know the Houses are whispering about Mistress Lyressa stealing Ferne’s eyes. They’re questioning the car accident.”
I held back a groan. I’d suspected this day would come.
All the representatives of the Houses had been at the Wychthorns’ temple when my brave little sister distracted Urstlo from Nelle, who was cracking under the pressure to keep her wyrm hidden and contained.
Ferne had confronted Mistress Lyressa, who’d stolen her eyes simply because they were pretty.
“They’re saying if Mistress Lyressa was present at the car crash, then perhaps your mother was…
” Mela let the words drift apart. She didn’t need to say other.
I understood. The Houses were beginning to understand why my mother had been killed.
“What they’re curious about is how the rest of your family survived. ”
Fair enough. As decreed, any family harboring an other was annihilated. “The Horned Gods accepted her sacrifice for our lives. They owed us for the Final War.” And everything that came after, when we regathered the survivors scattered worldwide and reformed the Houses.