Closer
CHAPTER FORTY
Iwoke with a jolt. Lucinda hovered over me, shaking my shoulders.
“You sleep like the dead,” she muttered and released me. “We have to get off the wagon. Now.”
I rubbed my eyes, sitting up. Moonlight spilled through the slats. How long had we traveled?
Piper was still stretching, but I hugged her to my chest and used the wall to stand. Lucinda gave me no other option since she was already striding to the front, not allowing me to ask questions.
As soon as I was standing, she went to the double doors and crouched.
‘Don’t be shocked, her wraithling is behind you,’ Piper said, her tone unsteady. I didn’t have to turn around. Fur brushed against my leg, reaching closer to my hip than my knee.
A panther prowled past, her silky coat rippling over her lean body. I sucked in a stunned breath. They must have kept her separated from her wraithling too. The council would be foolish not to—not with the claws on this one.
‘Scary,’ Piper muttered, subdued. ‘Did you ever wish for a bigger wraithling?’
“Never,” I said into her fur, squeezing her.
Metal slid against wood, and Lucinda unlatched one side of the large swinging doors by pulling the metal bolt from the notch.
“We’ll have to jump,” she announced, her voice almost fading with the clop of hooves and crunch beneath the wheels.
I gawked at the dirt road flashing past. Lucinda nodded once, and she jumped out, rolling as she went. Her wraithling pounced and caught itself perfectly, head swiveling.
‘She’s psychotic,’ Piper muttered.
Indeed.
“Hold on to me.”
I tucked her against my chest and crouched.
The door swung, and I took the opportunity to jump before my thoughts talked me out of it.
I landed on my side, rolling. I kept myself curled forward to protect Piper.
Sharp pain burst across my thigh and knee.
My back took the brunt of the next slam, and I rolled on my knees until I landed on my side again.
‘Are you all right?!’
I splayed out on my back, groaning.
‘Amara!’
I groaned again.
‘Saints, you frightened me!’ She squealed.
“It took you long enough,” Lucinda said. “We have to get off the main road.” She reached down, offering me her hand. I took it and she hoisted me up. I hissed through my teeth. “Mother said we would meet someone you know here.”
I swept my gaze around, expecting Liadan.
“Through the foliage, there is a small village.” She began to trudge forward. “Just remain quiet and follow my path. She’ll lead the way.” I followed her gaze to her wraithling half veiled by the shadowed forest.
Lucinda had already begun to stride after it, and I hurried to limp after her. Lucinda disappeared between the trees with the ease of someone whose body still belonged entirely to her. I dragged my ruined hip after her and tried not to think about whose fault it was that I couldn’t keep up.
‘How bad is it?’
“I’ll be fine,” I murmured, trying not to throw up from how much agony traveled through my limbs.
We moved off the dirt road and into the compact woods. Lucinda moved with sure strides through the foliage, smacking things out of her way. Meanwhile, I walked behind her, hyperaware of my surroundings.
“What about the Hollows?”
As if making a point, a screech rang through the dark.
“There are no Hollows. Mother would have told me to take care. She explained every little step of this journey.”
Oddly comforting.
I shared a look with Piper as she scampered under the brush near my legs, then we kept following Lucinda.
Walking and walking.
“You should rest,” I said to Piper, who was slowing. She rose on her hind legs, nose twitching.
‘I can tell you are in pain.’
“Piper,” I admonished.
‘Fine. Fine.’ She clasped the bottom of my robe and used it to crawl up. I hooked my hand under her bottom and cradled her. When I looked up, Lucinda was many paces ahead.
I rushed to catch up before she disappeared through the compact trees. She slowed as I neared.
“This is where I leave you,” she announced, pushing some leaves from our view. “He awaits you there where the fire plumes.”
My gaze bounced over the other small shacks enveloped in moonlight. It took me a moment to find the one with smoke.
“Is this Kinsley Village?”
She grunted an affirmative, but I didn’t need the response. I had spent plenty of time in the small market they hosted here . . . Bjorn Estate was nearby.
“Wait, you said ‘leave me’. Why are you not coming with me?”
She shrugged. “I fulfilled my promise to mother. This is where we part. Knock thrice upon the door in quick succession. Do not dawdle.”
With that, she melted into the woods as if she were a part of it, her wraithling already gone from sight.
‘Eerie.’
I made a sound of agreement as I swept a glance around and exited the foliage, keeping to the shadows cast by the homes. Soon I was at the door. Salt surrounded the home in a thick barrier. I knocked as Lucinda directed.
With my next breath, it was whipped open, and I had a flash of Liadan before he yanked me inside, shutting the door before latching the metal hook in place.
A small fire in the chimney cast golden light across the small dining area. A single door was closed, and there was a young woman standing near the wooden table.
“Bloody Saints, what happened to you?” Liadan spat, scanning my face which likely held a host of bruises.
I shifted my weight, allowing my aching leg a break.
With the thought of my hip and leg came a flash of Cassiel’s enraged face.
A boulder settled on my chest, but I could not allow myself to fixate on how hurt I was.
Following his gaze, I found scratches and discoloration running up my arms. A fine layer of dirt coated Branwen’s cloak.
“Many things,” I muttered.
“Come in, come in,” the young woman said, bringing a teacup to the surface table.
“This is Deborah, Renata’s sister.” Liadan looked over my shoulder. “Where is she? She was to bring you.”
My face paled, nausea swelling. Here I stood before her sibling, and the truth would wreck her. Flashes of the Hollow feasting on Renata’s innards flooded my memory and attempted to drag me under.
I scanned the faces before me, but there was no appropriate way to begin.
“Renata,” I started, taking a moment to catch my breath. “She is gone.” I croaked.
His mouth set into a hard line, and grief lines marred the corners.
Deborah plopped onto the chair, eyes going vacant. I bit back my grief.
“There was nothing I could do. She was already—” I choked off, dragging in a breath.
“We know the risks.” Liadan’s soft spoken words did nothing to comfort.
Deborah kept silent, her hands trembling in her lap. I had to force my focus away from the pain slashed across her face. “How did you arrive if Renata was not . . .”
“The prophet,” I answered. His brow furrowed. “The true prophet—the council held her prisoner.”
“What?” he hissed, combing his hands through his hair.
“That’s just the beginning. There is much information we must discuss.” I cleared my roughened voice.
“Come sit,” he ordered and held the chair for me.
“Approved knowledge coming from a single source allows control. They have been feeding us information they want, because it keeps them in power,” I said as I strode to him. “The realms are much, much older than they have made us believe.”
“Who?”
“The council, they are behind everything. They’ve molded Sycarious into exactly what they want.
” I breathed shakily. “But I found what you and Renata told me to find. The Lore of Old.” Renata would never know the mission had been successful.
I squeezed my hand into a fist. Her presence was a heavy weight.
Grief flashed across Liadan’s features before he rubbed his mouth.
“I managed to transcribe a few pages.”
Liadan leaned forward and nodded.
“Tell me everything.”
Gladly.