14. Buried Paths #6
The path behind them was gone, swallowed whole by the avalanche.
Kalemon whooped, throwing a fist into the air. "Ha! Take that, you pointy-eared bastards!" she shouted, cursing loud enough for the avalanche itself to hear. Below, the Awyan riders scattered like ants, their cries drowned beneath the roar of snow and ice swallowing the pass.
The cloaked figure in deep velvet urged her horse up beside Kalemon, the gold-thread constellations on her cloak still glittering faintly through the haze. "Are you still going to question my brilliance?" she asked, her voice smug but smooth, curling like smoke.
Kalemon leaned forward on her mule, gray eyes narrowing. "I can't see if you've got pointy ears under that hood or not, but I know damn well my kind can't throw glowing orbs of death. So yes, every goddamn time."
The figure grinned wide, teeth flashing beneath the shadow of her hood.
"Knew there was a reason I liked you," she purred, the words curling low, like smoke meant to seep beneath armor.
Her eyes lingered, not on Kalemon's face but lower, studying her posture, the curve of her mouth, the tension in her grip on the reins.
"You've got bite. I like those who snap before they bend. "
Kalemon's brows shot up, her mouth twitching despite herself. "Careful, velvet. Keep talking like that, and you'll find out these oversized panties of mine come with teeth."
The stranger's smile widened, dark amusement gleaming beneath her hood. "Mmm," she hummed, slow and deliberate. "Sounds like an invitation."
Kalemon rolled her eyes hard, heat creeping up the back of her neck despite the cold. "God, you're trouble."
"Always," the stranger murmured, her voice silken as her horse shifted closer. "But admit it, you're curious."
That earned a laugh, deep and genuine, the kind that echoed even against the dying rumble of the avalanche. But then the stranger's face shifted, serious in an instant.
"Canariae!"
Kalemon whipped her head around just as Allora's body swayed violently in the saddle. Her hands slipped from the reins, her hood falling back.
Then she toppled.
Her body hit the snow with a dull thud, dark cloak sprawling around her like broken wings.
"Shit!" Kalemon vaulted off her mule, boots sinking deep into the drift as she scrambled toward her.
The stranger dismounted in one fluid motion, velvet sweeping like storm clouds as she dropped beside the fallen woman.
Allora lay motionless, her face twisted with exhaustion even in unconsciousness.
Her lashes fluttered weakly, her body slack against the snow.
She looked hollowed out, drained, as though every step of the journey had carved more strength from her bones.
Her breaths came shallow and uneven, and her dark skin, usually rich with warmth and vitality, had taken on an ashen undertone, slick with sweat despite the freezing air.
The weight of the child she carried had taken its toll, leaving her fragile in a way she had never allowed herself to be before.
Kalemon dropped to her knees, her hands already checking for pulse, for injury, for anything that might explain the collapse. "Come on, kiddo. Don't do this now. Not after we just escaped that bastard."
The stranger's gloved hand hovered over Allora's forehead, then pressed gently against her temple. Her expression shifted, concern flickering across what little of her face was visible. "She's burning up. Fever, exhaustion, dehydration. Her body is shutting down to protect the pregnancy."
"Can you do something?" Kalemon demanded, her voice rough with worry. "You can throw magic death orbs at mountains. Can you fix her?"
The stranger shook her head slowly. "Not here.
I know very little about Canariae reproductive cycles and their needs.
But I do know she needs rest, warmth, food, and actual medical care.
My magic can destroy, but healing requires tools I don't have with me.
" She looked up, scanning the valley ahead.
"The settlement is less than an hour from here if we push hard.
We need to get her there before hypothermia sets in. "
Kalemon cursed under her breath, already reaching to lift Allora's limp form. The stranger moved to help, and together they managed to drape Allora across Kalemon's mule, securing her as best they could.
Kalemon's jaw worked as she looked down at the unconscious woman, worry etched deep in the lines of her weathered face. If Allora's condition worsened, if the pregnancy complications became severe, they'd be trapped between impossible choices with no good answers.
The stranger mounted her horse, her expression unreadable beneath the hood. "We need to move now before exposure makes things worse."
She kicked her horse into motion, leading the way down into the hidden valley. Behind them, beyond the wall of snow and ice, Malec was already giving orders to his men. Already plotting alternate routes. Already following the golden tether that bound him to the woman who refused to stop running.