Chapter 38
“Fallon! Fallon! What is going on?” Scarlet’s panicked scream echoed through the marekem.
I tried to steady my breathing, forcing myself to look down slowly.
The sight of the drop made my stomach churn.
I hadn’t meant to reach for Scarlet through the bond—it was pure instinct the moment we stepped through the chasm hand in hand.
But the instant we crossed, Shayde yanked me back.
My head cracked against stone as his arm slammed across my chest, pinning me in place.
What. The. Elements.
It was dark as night outside, which made no sense—unless a severe storm was brewing above.
I dared a glance farther downward. Far below, an angry ocean crashed against the cliffs, swallowing what remained of the ledge I remembered from my last visit.
The once-stable outcrop was gone—crumbled into jagged shards barely wide enough to hold us.
Shayde’s voice cut through the roar of the waves. “You know… you could’ve told me you were sending me to my death. I wouldn’t have spoiled your little secret.”
My instinct was to turn toward him, but his arm held firm. I inhaled sharply. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Last time, this led straight to Tyria’s tunnels. It was safe.”
I reached out through the marekem again. “We’re fine.”
Scarlet’s response came instantly, laced with doubt. “Why do I get the sense you’re lying?”
I ignored her.
“This ledge won’t hold us much longer,” Shayde said, impossibly steady. “Anything on your side?”
I flicked my eyes to the right, careful not to move more than a fraction. Nothing but jagged stone. “Negative.”
He paused. From the corner of my eye, I saw him scanning to the left. “You said this used to be an entrance to the tunnels?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard, refusing to glance at the deadly drop again. “It was a narrow path along the cliffside that led to a tunnel opening.”
“I think I see it. Looks like we landed just beneath it. There’s a cavern-like opening about five feet up.” He shifted slightly. “We’re going to have to climb. Ready?”
I could feel his eyes on me. I nodded once.
Slowly, Shayde lowered his arm from across my chest, movements deliberate, as if afraid the ledge would sense our plan and crumble out from under us. My palms flattened against the rock, fingers trembling as I fought for balance. I turned my head to meet his gaze.
His deep brown eyes stayed locked on mine. He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. As if silently deciding whether I’d make it once he let go. A bead of sweat traced down his temple, but his face remained calm—too calm.
Then he shifted, breaking our connection, and in one smooth motion swung his body to the left. His hand caught on a jagged protrusion. His boot found a narrow foothold. Turning so his chest pressed to the wall, he climbed.
I shimmied left when he called out, “I can almost reach you. Jump—give it everything you’ve got.”
Looking up, I spotted Shayde Wylder leaning over the edge, arm outstretched. The breeze ruffled his brown hair.
My gaze flicked from his hand to his face, suspicion twisting in my chest. “How do I know you won’t let me go the second I grab your hand?”
“You don’t.”
The unapologetic edge in his voice cut through me. I frowned up at him, then lifted my left arm, closing the gap until only inches remained. He leaned farther, stretching to meet me.
I braced, drew a deep breath, and jumped—twisting midair. His grip locked around my wrist at the same moment I summoned a vine from my other palm. It whipped toward a small notch in the stone and anchored hard.
Together, we hauled me into the opening. I tucked and rolled, landing with more momentum than grace but still on solid ground. The vine withered and crumbled to dust at my side.
My breath came in shallow bursts as I pressed my palms to the cold stone and looked up. Shayde was already kneeling in front of me, one brow arched.
“If you could do that,” he said dryly, “why wait until after I risked my life climbing?”
I stood, brushing dust from my leathers. “You made a deal to put your life before mine. I made no such deal for you.”
His lips twisted—just enough for the shadow of a dimple to appear—before I turned away. I brushed past him, letting my satchel knock his side in deliberate passing.
His footsteps followed without protest. Without questions.
One part of Father’s training had been learning these tunnels so well I could navigate them blind. Light was a liability. Darkness kept me hidden—and gave me the edge against anyone who couldn’t move without a torch.
Fire elementals could light the way… but not here. Not in the Barren Watch. Every one of them wore a tungsten choker, binding their magic—just like Shayde.
We walked in darkness and silence for what felt like a mile, stopping only when Shayde lost track of me. His hand found my satchel, gripping it to guide him—only because I’d shrugged it off my shoulder first.
From memory, we’d landed outside the tunnel nearest the northern wall of the Barrens. I’d been to the wall before, but never beyond it. It was guarded so heavily, day and night, that even the General’s own soldiers weren’t allowed through.
Crossing into Tyria wasn’t just forbidden. It was treason against the War Chief. And if we were caught… well, I’d toss Shayde to the wolves and use the chaos to escape.
“Where have you been all day?” Scarlet’s voice sliced through my thoughts.
“What do you mean? You were there when we crossed the chasm.” I mentally rolled my eyes.
“Rhodes and I haven’t been able to sense our marekem for over twelve hours. It’s like you two vanished into thin air.”
I froze mid-step. Shayde collided into my back with a grunt. Twelve hours? No wonder it was so dark outside. I shook off the weariness creeping into my bones and kept moving.
“The chasm must’ve taken something in exchange for distance,” I said. “Time, apparently.”
Scarlet didn’t answer, but her apprehension rippled through the bond.
We had to reach the northern wall before making camp. The tunnels offered good cover, but not enough to risk being found while resting. I made a sharp right, and the ground began to rise beneath our feet.
“You know,” I said into the dark, “I’m surprised you haven’t second-guessed yourself, following me blindly for miles.”
“It’s my favorite view of you,” Shayde replied, dry as dust. “Why would I complain?”
This time, I physically rolled my eyes—not that he could see it.
“We’re almost to the northern wall,” I said, shifting my focus ahead. “From there, we’ll have to find a way through the gate without being seen.”
A few hundred feet later, the tunnel finally opened. The night sky was mercifully dark, shrouding us in shadow. The narrow exit hid itself well, tucked behind a curtain of brittle vines and branches, wedged between two crumbling buildings along the Barren Watch’s outer edge.
We dropped low, crawling out into the open, moving between the structures with silent precision. A stack of barrels offered cover, and we crouched behind it, breath steady but ears tuned for the sound of approaching boots.
“If Tyrians are getting past the Watch,” Shayde murmured, “there’s got to be another way in besides the main gate.”
For once, I didn’t argue. “I know. But no one’s figured out how they’re managing it. Gray dragons have hit Arya recently, but they take the long route over the ocean and circle back. That’s not an option for ground units. Other elementals must be slipping through on foot.”
Shayde leaned toward the gap between the barrels, studying the wall. “Too tall to climb without being spotted, and it runs straight to the continent’s edge. No cliff tunnels. What about… below the wall?”
I glanced at him, weighing it. “Not impossible. Tyria used to have old service canals for waste and stormwater. Most were sealed decades ago, but if one wasn’t maintained…”
“It might’ve collapsed,” he said, “or stayed just wide enough for someone desperate to squeeze through.”
I nodded slowly. “That would mean crawling through fifty years of filth, mold, and whatever else decided to take up residence.”
Shayde’s mouth quirked, eyes glinting in the dark. “What’s wrong, Fitzroy? Afraid to get your hands dirty?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I already can’t stand being near you. No need to add the stench of sewage to your charm.”
“Oh, so you do think I’m charming?” His brows arched, smugness curling the edges of his tone.
Heat crept up my neck. “I think you’re good at pretending to be Prince Charming—right before handing innocent girls over to their enemies.” The words tasted bitter the moment they left my mouth.
Shayde’s grin vanished. Just like that, the mischief bled from his face.
Before either of us could push further, voices drifted in from the right. We eased back from the gaps in the barrels, muscles tight, as a trio of Watch soldiers passed. They murmured about the next shift change. Neither of us breathed until their footsteps faded.
When silence settled again, I scanned our surroundings.
Tall, crumbling buildings loomed, windows either boarded with splintering wood or caged in iron bars—reinforcements against whatever the Barrens might send clawing at them.
The soldiers moved in groups of three, their ash-gray leathers blending seamlessly into the scorched terrain.
The Barrens looked like a place fire had claimed and refused to release—charred and hollowed until nothing living could endure.
The ground was a cracked crust of ash. Canals lay empty and fissured, long since bled dry.
Trees stood stripped and skeletal, brittle limbs swaying like they might shatter at a touch of wind.
No one lived here except those condemned to the Barren Watch—soldiers serving a life sentence for crimes too unforgivable to allow anywhere else.
Or perhaps… for defiance.
The thought crept in quietly. Who was to say some of them weren’t here simply because they opposed the wrong person? Or because the Mareki had chosen them to channel more than one element?
Like me. Like Scarlet. Like Rhodes.
My gaze flicked to the soldiers’ necks, searching for glints of tungsten.
The tungsten might have nullified their elemental power, but it didn’t sever the bond with their dragons.
That connection was too strong, too ancient, to be undone so easily.
Dragons bonded to fire elementals sentenced to the Barrens usually faced one of two fates: serve as enforcers along the northern wall, like glorified guard dogs, or break the bond entirely.
I couldn’t say I blamed the dragons. If I were a fire-breathing, man-eating beast, I wouldn’t take orders from fragile little humans either.
Dragons deserved the right to live freely—beside their bonded or far from civilization. They never asked to hatch on our lands. No one even knew where they came from.
But humankind did not own them. Just like we didn’t own the Mareki Gem.
“There,” Shayde whispered, pointing west. “I see a sewer grate. But there are elementals everywhere. We need a distraction.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to calm the tightening in my chest and throat—that familiar pressure that always hit when panic crept in. No matter how many life-threatening situations I threw myself into, that reaction never dulled.
Squatting low, I moved behind the building to my right and peered around the corner.
“Fitzroy!” Shayde whisper-yelled behind me.
I flipped him the middle finger, hoping the darkness didn’t obscure the sentiment.
He groaned in quiet frustration, and a moment later I heard his footsteps pad after me. I felt the heat of his breath on my neck as he leaned over to peer past my shoulder.
Then I spotted it—my perfect chaos. And I grinned.
“Get ready to run,” I muttered.
Closing my eyes, I reached inward to summon my water element. The familiar tickle almost made me giggle, but I held it together as I dropped to my knees and dug my fingers into the cold ash.
“At the sight of anyone else on their knees before me, I’d oblige. But for you, I’ll pass,” Shayde muttered.
Ignoring him, I forced water into the tower behind the eastern watchhouse, filling it to the breaking point. The steel brackets groaned under the pressure, ready to burst.
Three…
“Hey, Wylder. Wanna play a game?”
Two…
“I think we’re already playing a game called life and death, but thanks,” he deadpanned.
One.
“Go!”