24. Nyx
Nyx
It is light again, but Dravik is not back with Cin. I keep checking the horizon for signs of either of my brothers flying this way, but so far, there’s been nothing. I try not to worry about them, but it’s hard to do that when things have gone so horribly wrong in the last cycle.
On a positive note, the storm has slowed considerably during the night.
Now, I’m celebrating by sitting at the top of the cliffs, watching the waves crash against the shore.
Every now and then, the tentacled arm of a skelpi slides out of the water, snapping up a scuttling frostpincer or one of the icepips fluttering along the shoreline.
All my life, I thought I was the skelpi. But now… now I fear I’m just like the icepips in this world. Vulnerable. Small. Naive.
Memories of the ice wyrm attack flash in my mind, and my grip tightens on the edge of the cliff. We were all so very near to death—one wrong move or a moment’s delay, and our souls would be traveling through the ether right now.
I’ve never seen anything like it. The wyrms… it’s like they were starving.
The lair we called home—and the dozens of other underground caverns scattered around the northern part of The Far Place—were abandoned by the massive creatures centuries ago. They traveled deeper in search of more magic-infused ice-rock to consume, and haven’t come this close to the surface since.
The only reason they would is if, somehow, their food source was being depleted. But why? How?
A deep whooshing noise draws me from my spiraling thoughts, and when I look up, I’m surprised to find Rhune hovering right in front of me, a grinning Willow clutched tightly in his arms.
“See! I told you he was up here.” Rhune twists mid-air, then slowly lowers his body to the ledge next to me.
Keeping Willow in his lap, his wings curl around her small body, blocking the snow flurries and protecting her warmth.
When he’s certain she’s protected from the cold, he turns his attention to me.
“Willow was worried when she woke up and you were gone. I thought it was best to show her you were alive and well.”
“I wasn’t that worried.” Her cheeks heat the most delicious shade of pink. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get eaten by an ice wyrm.”
“Did you have another nightmare?” My chest clenches with worry as I take in the dark circles beneath her eyes.
She shakes her head, a gentle smile tipping her lips. “No nightmares. I actually slept great. It’s just when I woke up and you weren’t there, I convinced myself something terrible had happened.”
My heart swells as I reach over, cupping her rosy cheek in my palm. Despite the cold, her skin holds a lovely warmth where the blood has risen to the surface, and I want nothing more than to lean in, to feel all of her naked heat against my body.
I shake away those thoughts, pulling my hand away and forcing it to my lap.
Willow is Rhune’s mate, and it would be wrong for me to hoard her to myself in that way.
Not to mention the fact that we nearly died and have lost our home.
Truly, my obsession with Willow is the last thing I should be thinking of.
Though, as the cycles go by, it gets harder and harder to ignore.
I glance at Willow’s profile, and my chest clenches with longing. I wish to hold her like that. To feel her warmth against my heart.
“All you had to do was ask,” Willow says, grinning as she climbs out of Rhune’s lap into mine.
“I… didn’t realize I’d said it out loud.” I wrap my wings around her small frame, pulling her in close. “But I am honored.”
She snuggles up to me, and we all watch the ocean some more. After a while, Willow turns her head, her eyes narrowed in a knowing gaze. “Something’s on your mind. You’re far too quiet.”
“You being a worry-wort again?” Rhune asks, turning to me with wide, innocent eyes.
I stifle a laugh. “It seems like Willow’s been teaching you some more useful human words.”
He nods, his mouth spreading into a wide grin.
“She has. So far, I’ve learned douche canoe, that’s bananas, YOLO, and…
” He brings a finger to his chin, thinking hard.
“Oh! That’s right!” He clears his throat, placing his hands on his hips in his best impression of Willow when she’s being sassy. “Talk to the hand.”
To my surprise, Rhune leaps up, stretches his hand palm-out toward my face, then does a pivot and begins sashaying in the opposite direction.
Okay…
I glance at Willow out of the corner of my eye, and my confusion increases when I find her clutching her stomach in a fit of silent laughter. None of my research on humans ever prepared me for this…
“You know he’s not going to stop saying those phrases now, right? Most likely incorrectly and out of context.”
Her lips curl in a genuine smile. “I know. It’s cute how excited he gets, though.”
“Alas, it is.” I breathe a laugh, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Willow. I lean close to her ear, whispering, “I’ve never seen him this happy, you know. He finally seems like he… like he has something to live for. And it’s all because of you.”
Her face flushes, and she turns her gaze to the horizon, suddenly very interested in one of the icepips flitting along the shore. “I don’t know what it is I did to make him so happy. I’ve been a little bit mean to him, actually.”
I shake my head with a knowing grin. “You still don’t understand. You will, though. In time, you’ll realize that you make him happy. Just you, being you. There is nothing else.”
“Nothing else of what?” Rhune plops down on the edge, inching closer so he’s within arm’s reach of Willow.
“I was just telling her how happy she makes you by being herself.”
Rhune looks at me with wide, excited eyes. “You do! Every little thing about you is utterly perfect, from the tippy top of your head down to your toes, inside and out. Just being around you brings me joy.”
She blushes, her heart thudding loud enough for both of us to hear. The ring around her pupils glows bright red, seeming to glow with the emotion thrumming within her. “Rhune, I—”
Before she can finish, a group of icepips fly by, their shrieking calls drowning out whatever it is Willow was going to say. As the flock veers toward the open water, one of the members breaks off, soaring in a sweeping arc back toward the cliffs.
Is it… is it heading toward her?
The icepip circles high above, shrieking its call to the heavens and flapping its shimmering frost-colored wings. Then, to my utter surprise, it swoops down and lands on the top of Willow’s head.
She tries to stay as still as possible as the little creature hops around, tugging at the strands of hair and rustling its feathers as it makes itself at home. Meanwhile, both Rhune and I watch the bird in rapt fascination, sitting still as statues so as not to scare it away.
Of course, when it decides to peck at her ear, Rhune’s overprotective nature rears up, and he releases a low, menacing growl to warn the bird.
At the first rumble, the icepip snaps up straight, its head whipping side to side as it searches for the source.
When its beady eyes land on Rhune, it releases an angry shriek, fluffs itself up, then takes to the skies.
Willow laughs as it flies off to join the other members. The group is now circling high above her head in a perfect circle, screaming their eerie calls in unison—a song that travels far across the land and sea.
“That’s amazing,” she whispers. “Why are they doing that?”
Why, indeed…
An ominous chill runs down my spine, but I don’t know why. My eyes sweep the horizon, searching for something out of place. And then, it hits me. The icepips. They’re silent.
Before I can make this observation known, Willow turns to face me, and all my thoughts scatter at the same time my heart lurches to my throat. Oh, Gods…
“What’s wrong?” she asks, the smile dropping from her face.
“Nothing… nothing at all,” I lie. “Your eyes are just… well… they’re bleeding again.”
With a frown, she reaches up to her face, letting out a soft gasp when her fingertips come away coated with bright red liquid. “Shit. That’s… not great.”
Before either of us can respond, a thousand piercing screams break the silence, calling our attention toward the circling birds once more.
Several dozen icepips have broken off from the group, and they swoop down toward Willow’s head like shooting stars—stopping their descent at the last second and arcing back to the heavens.
“What’s wrong with them?” Rhune demands, batting at one that got a little too close to his mate. He snaps his wing out, covering Willow’s head as the icepips continue to grow bolder. “Why are they attacking her?”
“I don’t know.” I send a gentle blast of magic toward the swarm, hoping it will make them disperse. But, if anything, it only makes them more agitated. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
As if the birds have called upon some ancient entity, the storm starts to pick up, whipping up flurries of snow and cutting our skin with its biting cold. “We need to head back inside!” I yell, gesturing for Rhune to grab Willow.
Covering Willow the best we can, the three of us fly off the cliff and into the protective mouth of the cave, and as soon as we slip through the tunnel into the main cavern, the relentless torrent of snow and wind ceases.
Like a switch was flipped, a quiet stillness descends from all sides, and the three of us move to the back of the cave in silence, none of us willing to speak on the strangeness of what just occurred.
Rhune settles on the floor, propping his back against the wall as he finds a comfy spot for Willow in his lap. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asks. “I can run out and find you something if you are. It will likely not be as tasty as palepears, but it will fill your belly.”
“Actually, I’m not all that hungry,” she says, her eyes unfocusing as she snuggles deeper into Rhune’s warmth. “Not thirsty, either.”