chapter seven
DAWN IS brEAKING WHEN I hear the sound of trickling water.
Several bells have passed since I shared the last of my meager water supply with Llyr, and my throat is parched and raw from the unrelenting thirst. Following the sound through the jagged stone landscape, I find a stream of water flowing down the rocky face, pooling at the base.
Collapsing to my knees at the edge, I cup my hands and gulp down several handfuls of the icy clear water, then splash some of it on my face to clear my mind, its coolness a welcome relief.
Refilling the waterskin, I glance up at the thin gray strip now visible far above.
A new day has arrived, but all I want is to sleep.
I need to find some relief from the wind.
Now that I’m not moving, the wind chills me to the bone.
Wrapping myself in my felt cloak once more, I scout the area.
The pass narrows here, its dark walls looming on either side.
Frost coats the jagged landscape, and patches of ice catch the dim light, glittering like shattered glass.
There is what appears to be a large boulder sitting a short distance away that should be the perfect shelter.
It’s not really a boulder, I realize as I draw closer.
The stone rises from the ground like a monument, black and gleaming, utterly out of place, yet strangely fitting in this desolate landscape.
I crane my neck. The peculiar-looking pillar measures at least five times my height and is wider than twice my arm span.
Examining my reflection in the shiny black stone, I run my fingers over its smooth surface as I circle around it.
There are engravings adorning each of the stone’s five facets, similar, yet different, to the ones that cover my dagger.
But as it is the only object as far as I can see that can shield us from the icy wind, it’ll have to do.
Summoning every bit of remaining energy, I heave the blanket with Llyr on top toward the boulder’s sheltered side. I feed him some of the bone broth and eat a piece of the hare myself. Leaning back against the pillar, protected from the wind, I pull him close to me so we can share our body heat.
“I will get us out of here,” I swear, covering us with my felt cloak. If I made it this far, I can make it the rest of the way.
Closing my eyes, I instantly fall into a dreamless sleep.
A HAND SHAKES ME AWAKE, and I jolt up with a scream. I stare at Llyr, relief flooding through me so suddenly it leaves me dizzy. Thank the Father.
“You’re awake.” I rub my eyes; I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired. It feels like I haven’t slept at all.
He pushes himself into a seated position beside me, his pale face framed by a tangled mess of white hair. He glances around, his shoulders visibly tensing as he takes in his surroundings. “I passed out.”
I nod. “Your wound . . . It was bleeding, and I almost couldn’t stop it, and then there were the wolves, and I thought you would die.
” I’m rambling, but I can’t help it. “I thought I would die. In”—I sweep my arm across the unforgiving landscape—“here . . .” My voice fades as I take in my surroundings. This is not where I fell asleep.
“Wolves?” he barks, his voice loud enough to echo through the pass.
“It’s all right,” I say hurriedly. “They weren’t interested in us. I don’t know why, but I’m happy for it.” I don’t feel like discussing the strange encounter. “Uh, so, where are we now?” I say instead.
His eyes narrow, but he lets it go. “We’re almost at the western gate,” he says.
“We should arrive in Reā right after nightfall. More accurately in the province of Tierra. But . . .” His forehead puckers.
“Where are the horses? Without them, I doubt you could have made it this far, especially with me wounded.” He runs a hand across his forehead.
“Gods, I must have been out for . . . days.” He turns toward me.
“I am so sorry, La?na.” He squeezes my shoulder.
“Leaving you alone in this place was not my intention. I need you to know that.”
I’m only halfway paying attention to him.
“They ran off when the wolves appeared,” I say, my eyes scanning the surroundings.
We’re still inside the pass, that much is clear, and we’re still next to the same odd black pillar, but the rest has changed, and the energy feels .
. . lighter, somehow. Am I losing my mind?
I decide not to tell him, just in case I am.
Llyr walks away to relieve himself, and I’m happy to see he’s not too unsteady as he makes his way behind an outcrop.
Taking advantage of the time alone, I do a quick braid and ensure that my linen coif covers it.
Although I know him, I don’t feel comfortable letting my hair down in front of a man—or anyone else, for that matter.
Then it strikes me. Reā. It’s the first time I’ve heard the name of the place where we’re going.
What will it be like, the land beyond the pass?
All I have to go on is the information from the minister, but who knows if his stories hold any truth?
Still, if just half of what the minister claims is accurate, Reā is a wicked place.
“But not worse than living with Coperie,” I mutter, pushing the last strand of the hair he loved to run his hands through into place.
Llyr makes his way back to our camp, carefully avoiding the razor-sharp stones covering the area.
I purse my lips. Is he Reān? That would explain his pointed ears.
His fangs. There are a million questions I want to ask him, but then I remember he must be hungry—he’s had nothing but broth to eat since we left Bronich.
“I’m so sorry. You must be starving,” I say once he’s within earshot, grabbing my satchel to unwrap the grilled hare inside. “Here.” I hand him a piece of meat and take another for myself. “There’s water in the waterskin, but the horses ran away with the rest,” I say with a sheepish smile.
He grabs the hare I’m offering. “Where did you get your hands on a hare?” he asks between mouthfuls. “There’s no game in here.”
“Caught one in the woods before this spectacle started.” I look away, a sudden pang of unexpected melancholy washing over me. Will I ever see those woods again? As relieved as I am to be free of the brace, my dreams were simple.
I blink, not wanting Llyr to see the tears that are threatening to form in my eyes. Maybe he notices anyway, because he lets me be.
“How is your wound?” I ask after a while. “It must be much better since you’re awake.” There is a marked improvement in his appearance. His cheeks even have some color to them now that he’s eating. “I thought you said one could not heal inside the pass?”
“You can’t,” he says, chewing on another piece of hare. “But you managed to stop the bleeding, and with some rest . . .” He shrugs. “Mind you, I still feel weak, and I am lightheaded. But I am awake.”
“Well, thank the Father for that.”
He grunts.
I lean over. “Can I have a look?”
He gestures for me to go ahead, and I realize he has already taken off the bloody bandages. I stare at the wound, wincing at the angry red burn, its edges inflamed and raw.
“I’m sorry I had to cauterize it, but I’m relieved it worked.” I offer him an apologetic smile.
He nods. “It is not that bad. Besides, it will heal once we are out of here.”
“I hope so. I really had no choice. Blood was gushing out everywhere, even with a tourniquet. You were bleeding through your bandages, leaving a bloody trail behind. I thought I’d take advantage of your unconsciousness and seal the wound.
You didn’t even notice. You were so far gone .
. .” I trail off. “Whatever has happened, I’m glad you’re back,” I say, my shoulders dropping with a sigh.
He gives my shoulder a pat, and we eat in silence for a while, the stillness broken only by the wind occasionally whistling through the pass.
Leaning back against the pillar, I study Llyr. His hair is once again tied in a neat tail, his ears covered. No wonder I’ve never noticed them before. Chewing on the last piece of hare, he stares down the pass with a wistful expression. Is Reā his home?
Sliding my hand into my pocket, I stroke the dagger, finding the motion strangely calming. I should give it back to him. Now that I’m free of the brace, I can wield any weapon I choose, so there’s no reason to keep this one, but I keep quiet.
Here you were, berating him for stealing Maeve, when in reality, you are no better yourself. My cheeks heat.
Turning to face the tall pillar, I let my thumb glide across the smooth surface of the dagger while lifting the other to touch the pillar. The stone feels similar, and they carry the same vibration, though on slightly different notes.
“It is a veilstone,” Llyr says. “It is made entirely out of nightstone.”
Is that awe in his voice?
I glance over at him. “And what does a . . . veilstone . . . do exactly?” And why does he know this?
A thoughtful expression crosses his face as if he is considering whether or not to say more.
“I noticed your ears,” I blurt. And fangs. But I don’t mention that.
His green eyes snap in my direction, his hand moving toward his right ear, now covered by his long white hair again. “How . . . ?” he begins. Then he shakes his head, muttering more to himself than to me, “Of course.”
“And?” I raise my eyebrows.
“You have probably guessed it by now, but Reā is my home. I am Reān.” A bitter laugh escapes his lips.
“Or I guess we are all technically Reān at this point. The humans have been here for over a millennia . . .” He releases a heavy sigh.
“But dear gods, does life in Bronich seem like a different world entirely.” His gaze flickers back to the black stone behind me.
“Legend has it the veilstones were created by the twins of fate at the dawn of time.”
I groan. Father help me.