Chapter 46 #2
I stared at her, lips parted in shock. That wasn't possible. That couldn't be. Granted, I hadn't been conscious for the end of the battle but he'd been just behind me, right there, defending me, guarding me against…
"Chassina," I breathed. I'd kill the bitch. I'd rip down the wards of the gods' own city and blast every single building inside apart until I found her. I'd drag her out of there by that cursed raven hair. I'd—
"No," Prima said, shaking her head. "He isn't…
he survived the battle, that we know. He was helping organize the refugees when a certain young man came out of Sanctuary screaming about…
about it all being a ruse. He claimed the Geist had known of our attack before it happened.
He claimed they wanted us to disable the wards so they could get in to retrieve something.
He…maybe you should speak to him yourself.
At any rate, the general made the asinine, arrogant decision to return to Sanctuary himself, alone, to find the object before Deimos arrived and, well, no one has seen him since. "
I stared at her, blinking in shock. That wasn't right.
That couldn't be right. Gryfon hadn't ever cared about freeing Sanctuary before.
He'd barely wanted to attempt it this time.
He'd never mentioned anything contained within that might be better protected from the Geist behind the wards except the people.
He'd never said anything at all. And how could the Geist have known we were planning to attack Sanctuary? Unless someone had told them…
"Who made these claims?" I asked, voice finally cracking.
Prima's expression warped into even more pity but I ignored it. I kept blinking, kept gritting my teeth and clenching my fists, to keep from crying. Prima nodded to one of the riders who rushed off to fetch whatever young man had come out of Sanctuary with these claims.
He's fine, I told myself.
Any minute now, he would come walking into this cave barking orders at his men and glaring at all of us for having this meeting without him. He'll hate that we worried about him, that I worried about him, for even a second.
"Adrian?" I turned at the familiar voice and let out a sob I could no longer keep inside.
I ran from the dais, sprinting across the cave before throwing my arms around the only First Ringer who'd ever truly accepted me in Sanctuary.
Milo hesitated, likely more from shock than anything else, before wrapping his arms around me as well. A moment later, I felt the tickle of his unruly curls against my cheek as he buried his face in my neck and muttered how happy he was to see me over and over again.
"What happened?" I gasped once I'd finally composed myself enough to pull away and speak.
I still held onto him, grasping him by the shoulders as I stared into his eyes with a wide gaze of my own.
"They said you came out raving about the Geist knowing we'd drop the wards, that something was in danger, something you were keeping inside? "
His shoulders slumped forward and Milo broke. I didn't think I'd ever see such a thing. The confident, smiling boy from the First Ring who fancied himself a scholar and hailed from the most gentle house broke before me.
"I failed, Adrian," he said, moisture thick in his eyes as he shook his head and refused to look at me. "One task given to my ancestors centuries ago and I was the one who failed it."
"What was it, Milo? What did you fail?"
He drew his gaze up to mine then and I saw the unfathomable sorrow deep within its depths.
"The amulet," he breathed. "I think they got the amulet."
"What amulet?"
"I took too long to figure it out. I didn't take his claims seriously. By the time I did, it was too late. I had no choice but to send it Underground. They'll have found it by now, though. Either us or them. If they get it, gods Adrian, if they find the amulet—"
"You're not making sense, Milo. None of this is making sense."
His eyes flashed and he seemed to come out of a reverie of some sort.
"Did you know him, Adrian?" he asked, acknowledging my anxiety for the first time, realizing how desperately I was clinging to him as I asked my questions. "The man who went after it, did you know him?"
Tears burned my eyes but I didn't let them fall. Not trusting myself to be able to speak aloud, I nodded once to Milo who shook his head and drew me in for another embrace. Only there, nestled against my friend's chest, did I let a few of the tears fall.
I was afraid, I realized. It was different from the terror I'd felt upon being shoved into that hole, at the realization that I was going to die.
It was different from the desperation I'd felt to return to my family, my friends, my home once I'd been dropped into the Underground.
And it was separate from the rage I'd felt in that forest when I stood, helpless, while my friend bled and died in front of me.
It was a horror which knew no bounds, a fear that had clawed its way inside my heart and burrowed so deep it drove emotional extremes even I didn't understand.
I was furious with Gryfon for going alone, devastated that he hadn't made it out of that battle beside me, and terrified that he'd been captured or worse and I'd never see him again.
I was reeling, just as I'd been upon Dante's betrayal, but this time was different.
There was no one to blame.
I'd done my job. I'd shattered the wards surrounding Sanctuary to win the battle and free my people.
Zya and Kane and even Dante had all done their jobs, fighting at our side and clearing a path for me.
Even Gryfon had only been doing his job, I was sure, when he stepped back into those sands alone, headed out to fight a Geist none of us really had any chance facing.
He'd gone himself because it wasn't a task he'd ever ask any of his men to do for him.
He'd gone alone because he didn't want to risk the rest of us.
He'd made his sacrifice, likely fully believing it was the right and honorable thing to do, for us.
But fuck that and fuck honor.
I needed him. Whatever this amulet was, whatever it could do, the Geist could have it. We'd find a way to fight it too. We'd find a way to get it back later, together. But he never gave us the chance. He never gave me a chance. All for stupid fucking honor.
I'd heard him in my sleep again. During those long weeks I'd lain unconscious after the battle, being transported to Archí like all the other injured, I'd heard his voice.
It was quieter than before, lost in the raging sea of my own darkness, a magic I recognized as my own now.
But I'd heard him. I hadn't been able to make out the words.
I couldn't tell what he'd been saying. It was more the feeling of his presence and the cadence of his tone but I knew it was him and I'd planned to finally confront him about that when I woke.
Why was his the only voice I could hear in my mind now? And why in my dreams when Dante had only ever spoken to me while I was awake?
"You," Milo suddenly growled. It was so out of character, I couldn't help but jerk away in shock. Seeing the glare on his face, I followed it until I saw Dante standing in the entrance to the cave.
Milo's arms tightened around me protectively.
"I knew you'd do it," Milo snapped. "As soon as grandmother told me what the tenth Trial was about, I knew you'd be the one doing the betraying. Once a viper, always a viper."
"Milo," Dante replied coolly. His expression was a mask of indifference, as though he hadn't even noticed the pure, undiluted fury in Milo's tone, the obvious hatred and venom he'd spat toward him. Instead, Dante ignored the House Avus scholar and turned his gaze to me. "We need to talk, Adrian."
"Not now," I replied, shaking my head and turning away. I didn't want him to see me cry. I didn't want Dante to see me weak ever again.
"Adrian—"
"Let's go," Milo interrupted, wrapping an arm around my waist and steering me toward the exit.
Dante stepped aside and let us go, frowning as his eyes bore into me with desperation.
But I ignored him. Whatever he had to say, I didn't want to hear it.
Not now. Not when I was falling apart with worry for the general I hadn't known I'd cared so much about.
Not when Milo was back and some amulet important enough for Gryfon to risk his life for was missing.
Not when there was a chance the Geist had planned this whole thing and were one step ahead of us in a way we'd never anticipated.
War had truly begun which meant every step forward, every choice we made now, mattered.
And it mattered more than some treacherous spoiled rich boy's pining.
"I'm sure he's fine," Milo was speaking softly beside me as he drew me out of the cave. "I'm sure he probably just got caught up in the sands on his way back and he'll be here any—"
"Prima!"
The sound of hooves pounding against solid ground filled the encampment as a familiar horse burst through the tree line, leading a dozen of them behind him. Milo stopped speaking at once, gaze whipping around to the newcomer as every soul in camp's had.
I watched Captain Roman gallop straight through camp, his own guards riding after him.
Warriors went for their swords, easing them out of the scabbard as their eyes darted back and forth, assessing the threat.
But these were our allies, professed as such by their very own leader only moments ago, and they didn't have their own weapons drawn. This wasn't an attack.
"The king received a letter," Roman was explaining through puffs of air as he drew closer to the cave entrance where, I realized, Prima was now emerging. "He sent me riding south at once. It's—it's from Pavos."
Gasps arose around the camp at once as Prima reached out and plucked the paper from Roman's hands.
The captain nearly collapsed on his horse once the letter was out of his grasp, his duty fulfilled.
He breathed hard, fighting to catch his breath as his gaze remained on Prima.
His riders fared no better, leaning over in their saddles and gulping fresh air. They'd ridden hard.
I couldn't breathe.
Prima's eyes scanned the script on the page before rising slowly. I was stunned a moment later to find it was me she looked to.
"Prima," I said her name quietly, voice cracking with desperation, as my heart seized in my chest.
Her voice was equally quiet when she replied.
"They have him."