Chapter 16
Torjack’s nose and ears twitch. Just as quickly as his defenses rose, he drops the pitchfork as six rhythmic knocks sound on the door.
After he climbs the steps and unlocks it, Rynthea staggers down, a massive blur in the sunlight without my spectacles. Behind her are two more shadowy figures. Based on their stature and the color of their clothes, I assume they’re Thane and Algar.
Thank Orvena.
“Are they all gone?” Torjack asks.
“Yes. Dead or they’ve run off.” Rynthea claps her brother’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Good thing I’m not stiff today, huh?” He huffs out a laugh.
“Oh, shut up, you fool.” She sighs as she reels him in for a tight hug.
Thane walks around her to reach me. “Quinlocke, are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay,” I answer when our eyes connect. His warm, concerned tone is a surprise to hear.
Algar crouches next to me. “Where are your specs?”
I press my lips and pick them up from the table, waving them by one of the wiry arms. “Broken.”
“Damn,” Algar mumbles.
“There’s no way I can continue the journey like this. I can barely see.”
Thane stares at the spectacles a beat before holding out a hand. “Let me see them.”
His change in tone makes me hesitate. I really don’t like how demanding he can be, but I place them in his palm anyway. He closes his hand around them, and a flicker of light illuminates the space between us. When he opens his hand again, the spectacles are surrounded in a powdery gold aura.
I lean in closer and squint. I can’t believe it. They’re like new again. Actually, they’re better than new. The previously black frames have transformed to a gleaming gold, and I can’t make out a single scratch on the lenses. There were many scratches before, but that was of my own doing.
Thane settles the specs gently on my ears, his warm fingers brushing the sides of my face. Goose bumps sweep over every inch of me, but I pretend the reaction didn’t happen.
“Better?” he asks.
Once again, the urge to cry is nigh. But they’re happy tears I want to shed. Tears of hope. “They’re perfect.”
For a moment, we look into each other’s eyes, and I swear I see a softness in his that I’ve never seen before…
But the moment passes when Thane coughs and looks away.
I look around and take in the crystal-clear details of the bunker—wood paneling on the walls, gas lanterns hanging in a row on thick rope above, shelves stacked with books, wide glass jars stuffed with peeled fruits and vegetables.
“Wow, they’re so clear.” I smile at him. “Thank you.”
He nods. “Don’t mention it.”
Something seems to be happening right now. A shift—a change. As our gazes linger yet again, I have the irrational thought that this assassin might not be all that bad. He’s protected me from a lot so far, waited for me to heal in the inn, and has just restored my spectacles.
But it’s just a thought. Reality still rings like a bell in the hollows of my mind. Despite the kind gestures, he is still a very dangerous man.
As if Thane senses the disruption in my thoughts, he says, “We should get going if we want to make it to Gadonia at a decent time.”
“Are you seriously going to The Shallows?” Rynthea asks, glaring at Thane, Algar, and then me. Before I can speak, she’s flaying Thane again. “You realize you’re leading her to her death, right?”
“She wants to go,” Thane replies in a low rumble. “She asked me to escort her.”
“For a stone that may not even be there?” Rynthea places her attention on me now. “You’ll get yourself killed, Zaira.”
“That’s why she has me,” Thane counters. “So she can make it there alive.”
Rynthea’s eyes burn with irritation.
“Traveling with you is the true death wish, and we all know it,” she rants.
“There is a clear target on your back, and you brought it straight to my inn. Do you know how long it will take me to clean up all that blood? To replace or repair the broken tables and chairs? It’s bad enough our business is going downhill. Now we’ll have to shut down for days.”
“There’s treasure near that temple, Rynthea.
” Algar interferes once again. “All sorts, I’ve heard.
Coins, jewels, crystals—you name it. They don’t call it Elphar’s temple for nothing.
He scoured these lands and buried all he found there.
He was Azidel’s brother, so everyone believes the legends to be true about the treasures because Azidel was capable of protecting it.
If we get a hold of some of it, you can rebuild Kamtaur and your financial burdens will be washed away. ”
“Yeah, if I’m not dead first,” she shoots back. “Making it to The Shallows is a fool’s dream.”
“Then I’ll go with them,” Torjack blurts out. “I’ll bring some of the treasure back, and we can get on our feet again.”
“Like shadows you will!” She turns her head slowly to face her brother. Hot, visible breath might as well be coming out of Rynthea’s nose. “You can hardly even walk half the time, Torjack! What the shadows are you getting on about?”
“If I take the medicines with me, I’ll be fine.
” He shifts on his hooves with a weak shrug.
“You don’t want to sell Kamtaur even though we’re drowning in debt, Rynthea.
I think if we travel as a group, we can make it.
That guy there is pretty lethal with his swords and daggers”—he points at Thane—“and Algar is a good scrapper himself. Zaira seems to have done her studying and is quite clever. Our chances are much higher as a group.”
“Lots of groups go to The Shallows for treasure, and hardly any of them leave the island alive,” she says. “And if they do, they either die on the way back to the mainland or make it back crippled. None have returned with treasure.”
Torjack throws his arms wide in frustration.
“What does it matter if I die? And I’m already crippled, so that means nothing to me.
I can’t have you looking after me for the rest of my life, Rynthea.
That’s no way for you to live. I’m the one who’s sick, and I’ll never get better unless we do something about it. ”
She clamps her mouth shut and stares at him with glossy, honeyed eyes.
“I know you want to look out for me,” Torjack goes on in a gentler voice, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but one day my life might come to an end, and not only will you be out of a business, but you’ll have no brother, either.
You’ll have no family left. You’ll have no money.
There will be nothing to hold on to, all because you wanted to play it safe.
Why not take a risk—a chance for the better—instead of sitting here waiting for my final breath? ”
“Tor, you’re talking nonsense.” She shakes her head and pushes his hand away. “You’re not going to Elphar, and that’s final.”
Torjack steps back with a deflated sigh.
The rest of us remain silent as Rynthea breathes in and out rapidly, one of her fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, she spares us from the tense silence and looks between the three of us.
“Do you even have a plan?” Her question is drowned by reluctance. “The Shallows is not an easy place to navigate.”
Algar looks at Thane, who replies with, “We’re making it to that temple.”
“Well, if you’re going to make it, and if I decide to join you, I need to hear a fucking plan.
” She scans all of us with narrowed eyes.
“I know only one man personally who made it out of The Shallows alive. If we can speak to him, get some clear guidance, and figure out our chances of survival, then I’ll see if it’s worth joining you. ”
“Really?” Torjack’s eyes light up as he gawks at his sister.
“Not now.” She points a stern finger at him. As she stomps up the stone steps to leave the bunker, Torjack grins as if he’s just won a grand prize.
Algar and I look at each other at the same time. He shrugs while I bite my bottom lip, unsure what to make of this whole situation.
We follow Rynthea out, and Torjack shuts and locks the hatch behind us before covering it up with leaves. When we near the inn, Penju is coming out the back exit, dragging a body by the ankles. He grunts as he places it on top of two other bodies to start a pile.
“Who were these people anyway?” Rynthea asks when we’re all inside the inn again. Her question is one I’ve been wanting to ask, too, but I can’t form the words while staring at the wreckage.
Orvena’s sake.
The place is a mess. Blood is sprayed on the walls, and nearly all the furniture is ruined. Several of the glass windows are shattered, and I don’t even want to count how many dead bodies are lying around with puddles of blood and guts surrounding them.
“They’re most likely with the Grim.” Thane steps over a headless corpse on the floor. I refrain from gagging at the smell of iron in the air and choose to stare at the barrels behind the bar instead. That doesn’t help much, though, considering there are streaks of blood there, too.
“Why are you mixed up with the Grim?” Rynthea stares at him like he has two heads.
“I’m not mixed up with them,” he retorts.
“And what about the one who got away?” Algar cuts in. “The one who wielded magic like you? Do you know him?”
“Maliek,” Thane grumbles, jaw clenching.
Wait…Maliek?
“What does this Maliek want with you?” Rynthea continues her interrogation.
“I don’t know,” he says, and I’m positive he’s lying.
Rynthea glowers at him, not buying it, either.
“So what will it be, Rynthea?” Algar probes. “You joining us or what?”
She places eyes on Torjack, who is examining the mutilated bodies, half disgusted, half fascinated.
“I’ll only agree if we speak to the survivor of The Shallows,” she answers.
“But only because I’ll have to close the inn for now and because I don’t want Tor going with the likes of you.
If this survivor can help us and the odds are in our favor, I will take the journey.
He’s not far—only a couple of hours away, in Bernwood. ”
“Fucking shadows.” Thane sighs. “As if we need more of our time wasted. We aren’t even supposed to be here.”