Chapter 12 #2
“Do all your plans involve arson?” He side-eyed her. The corner of his lip tugged upward, a hint of mischief in those bright green irises.
“It wouldn’t be a good plan if it didn’t.”
He chuckled, but Adara noted the lack of mirth. She didn’t know if it was his attempt at another small gesture to lure her into his charming trap to get her key, or if he simply couldn’t find anything humorous on this daunting journey.
“How do we defeat it?” she prompted. He’d never told her his plan. Trepidation settled in her gut. Did he even have a plan? Was he blindly leading them to their deaths?
Dominic’s hand lashed out in front of her, halting her in her tracks.
“What—” She started, but was cut off as he held a finger to her lips. She stilled.
Then his finger left her lips and his outstretched palm in front of her turned upward. A small stream of water shot from his fingertips to hers, dousing the firelight.
The world plunged into darkness, silencing and suffocating. Immediately, she thought Dominic had left her for dead in this forest, gone to find the Whisperer alone. The silence was terrifying, unnatural, broken by her own rapid breathing and racing heart.
She startled at the sudden pressure on the small of her back, a hand gently guiding her forward. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw the silhouette of Dominic standing next to her, head swiveling back and forth as he scanned the forest.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered, voice barely audible.
“Hear what?” Adara hissed back.
He grabbed the back of her tunic, stopping them again. Without the steady crunch of dirt and leaves beneath their feet, whispers drifted through the air, breaking through the silence like thunder.
Adara shuddered. Tortured, depthless voices murmured nonsense. It wasn’t until they got closer that Adara began to understand them. Broken worlds . . . ruination . . . scattered lives . . . time is ashes . . . eyes see name . . . weak flame . . .
A chill crept up her spine as the voices grew louder and more persistent, echoing through the woods like they came from a thousand different voices speaking at once. Their breaths caressed her ears, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.
Turn back, one warned.
Fight more, another urged.
Then an entirely different voice spoke to her, sounding as if it’s raspy voice was right next to her. Make the break, end in ruins. Reverse the clock, not for the weak. Know the name, beware answers you seek. You’ll burn in your own heat.
Adara clenched her fists to keep them from shaking. She recognized all of those words. They were jumbled and unorganized, but she easily identified them from the Realm Fracturer riddle.
Except for the last sentence. Those words were unfamiliar. They sent an apprehensive chill down her spine. Made her scarred hands sting at the memory of burning herself.
The voice seemed to be warning her not to create the sword, but perhaps it was a defense of the Whisperer. Trying to keep them away because it knew they needed its eye.
“Did you hear that too?” she asked Dominic, keeping her voice low.
For a minute, he did not answer. Staring into the distance, Adara wondered what voices were distracting him.
Finally, he shook his head as if waking from a dream. “Hear what?”
She knew he was avoiding her question, omitting information, as usual. For a moment, Dominic still seemed dazed, then his head whipped to the right.
“Follow me,” he murmured. Without waiting, he took off running.
Adara followed silently, new flames in her palm flickering across the shadows. She didn’t care if its light attracted danger. She’d prefer to be able to see what she was fighting with the illumination of her magic.
She had no clue how he knew where to go, but Dominic led them right up to the entrance of a cave. Did the whispers help him find it? That could only mean the voices were leading them to their deaths.
Hesitantly, Dominic took a step forward. Undecipherable whispers roared to life in warning like a sudden torrent of rain pounding against a window. Adara glanced around her, searching for a body the voices belonged to, even though she knew she wouldn’t find one.
“Whatever you do,” Dominic said, his grave voice drawing her gaze back to him. “Don’t say my name in there.” He took another tentative step.
The pause in his voice told her there was something else he wasn’t telling her. She glared at him, debating on setting his clothes on fire for trying to keep her in the dark.
He huffed. “And don’t say your own, for that matter.”
“Why?” she asked, hating that she hadn’t picked up one of the tomes in his room. Surely, he’d had one that explained something about the Whisperer. It infuriated her that she had to rely on him for information.
“They call it the Whisperer because with one whisper of your name, it kills you.”
Adara gritted her teeth. The more she knew, the higher the chance they had of not making it out alive. Not saying her own name was simple enough, but it would be easy for Dominic to let it slip, getting her killed, erased from existence.
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before we go in there?” she seethed.
Dominic stared at her blankly. His eyes traveled down her body then back up to her face. Suddenly, he lunged at her. Adara stepped back in time to dodge his attack, drawing the dagger from the sheath at her arm. Chest heaving with panic and anger, she gripped her weapon tightly.
Then her eyes caught on his hands held out in front of him. In one hand was a knife she hadn’t even seen him draw, and in the other was a strip of teal cloth. She glanced down at her tunic. The hem of her shirt was torn and ragged. Her lips parted in disbelief. She hadn’t even noticed.
“Before you say anything”—he raised his hands in surrender—“we both know you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t enjoy me ripping your clothes off.” A taunting smirk was plastered on his face. He spun the knife once in his hand before smoothly sheathing it at his belt.
Adara’s jaw dropped open, her cheeks flushing pink. She blinked in shock, trying to clear the vivid image in her mind of him doing exactly that. Surprised but not ashamed, she replied, “Maybe, but not under these circumstances.”
He raised a brow, eyes lit with amusement. “Perhaps, when we get back to Andreilia, we can arrange for better circumstances.”
She pressed her lips together, refraining from saying something she might regret. Although she would certainly agree to that, she knew it was either a ruse to make her fall for him, or his bold words were just the fear in the face of death talking.
“What do you plan on doing with that anyway?” Adara asked, not wanting to be distracted by the thought of him doing other things to her right now. Seeing that he wasn’t actually planning on hurting her, she sheathed her dagger.
He stepped toward her, hesitantly raising the cloth to her eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.
She scoffed. “Absolutely not.” The thought of being blindfolded in there with an ancient creature that had the ability to erase people from existence alongside the King of Keys sounded like the dumbest idea possible.
He laughed. “Probably the best decision you’ll ever make . . . but I need you to. For now, at least.”
Adara stared incredulously at him, hating the way he looked at her with eyes that begged her to let him do this.
Guilt twisted inside her chest at that pleading look, like a lover only trying to do what’s best to save her.
How was someone so unfeeling able to conjure up such deceptive expressions?
It made her want to rip out one of his eyes instead of the Whisperer’s.
“If you make eye contact with the Whisperer, it can see your past or future. That’s how it figures out your name and uses it to kill you.” He gestured to the blindfold between his hands with a nod of his head. “I’m only doing this to protect you.”
“And what about you?” she asked.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. One of us needs to be able to see in there, and with my knowledge of this thing, I trust myself not to look into its eyes more than I trust you not to.”
Adara bit her lip, despising how right he was. It wasn’t ideal to go in blindly trusting someone who was only keeping her alive for the power she held that he could take later. But she had to hope that it was enough to keep him from letting her die at the hands of the Whisperer.
Heaving a sigh, she finally agreed. “Fine.”
Gently, Dominic closed the distance between them.
His hands rose, and with them that foreboding strip of fabric.
It filled her vision, darkness spreading like night as Dominic eased it over her eyes.
Her breath hitched. She didn’t know if it was from the panic setting in at the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see in the cave, or if it was from the brush of his fingers against her hair as he tied the strand around the back of her head.
“Do you even have a plan?” she asked, voice low. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
“Cut out its eye.”
Adara rolled her eyes. Typical of him to be so vague. “If I die,” she started, wishing he could see the despise burning in her eyes, “I’ll claw my way out of Helfarrow and drag you down to its depths with me where I’ll torture you for eternity.”
“And here I was thinking I was making progress on you falling in love with me.”
She didn’t need her vision to know he was giving her a taunting smirk. “Now, shut up so we can sneak in,” he said.