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“Where is everyone?” Anthea sat up, wrapping the two cloaks tighter around herself. After their talk the day before, Eldrion and Anthea had walked to the makeshift campsite, a small cavern on a plateau with a mountain lake, in silence. No one had said anything as they reached it. Only offering them food and a warm place by the fire. Anthea had eaten her dinner and had called it a night. She hadn’t said anything either when Eldrion had tossed her his cloak, had only nodded in acknowledgment and wrapped it around herself. There was no point in arguing with him about it.
“Haldrian, Syrafina and Kaelan went ahead to scout. Eldrion is taking a dip in the lake, said he needed to clear his head.” Beldor was sharpening his dagger. “Speaking of which, what’s going on with you two anyway?”
She ignored his question. Even if she knew the answer to it, she wouldn’t voice it. Instead, she got up, stretched her sore limbs and rubbed her face. “How long was I asleep?”
Beldor smirked. “Longer than the others. No one really wanted to face Eldrion’s wrath and wake you. Which brings me back to my question.” He sheathed his dagger.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Don’t play coy now, Anthea. You have the Nephrite legion’s high commander taking a cold plunge to clear his head. He is not one to easily lose it. So tell me, what happened yesterday.”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Anthea walked out of the cavern, eyes searching the distance for the familiar elf. Beldor followed her, pointing to the large rocks next to the silver blue lake.
“He’s there. But you should have breakfast first. We’ll leave soon, and you’ll need energy.”
They caught up with the others at the mountain pass. Haldrian pointed their destination out to her. The cave was down in the valley, out in the open.
Kaelan told her they had to be even more careful here. The Iron legion was known to patrol this region.
The group started their descent, traveling as stealthily as possible, using the natural cover of the rocky landscape and staying low to avoid detection. They went slowly, making sure to preserve some energy for getting back.
The cave was only a few hours away. With each step, Anthea was closer to the next piece of the prophecy, closer to uncovering the truth, and closer to the potential danger that lay within it. She needed to quiet her mind and stay focused. So, she kept on moving and counting her steps.
The cave’s entrance was a gaping hole in the face of a rocky outcrop. The air around it felt charged, pulsing with the intensity of the wards. The sight of it sent a wave of anxiety coursing through her, her heart pounding hard against her ribcage.
Eldrion, standing next to her, squeezed her shoulder gently.
“If . . . if something goes wrong in there,” Anthea began, her voice wavering. “How long will you wait for me to come out?”
“We will wait as long as it takes,” Eldrion said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“But what if—” she started, but Kalean cut her off.
“Don’t think too much about it, Anthea,” he said. “You have trained hard. We have done everything we can to ensure your safety. But in the end, you’re the only one who can walk this path.”
Anthea swallowed, a hard knot forming in her throat as she nodded, turning to enter. She felt Eldrion’s hand linger on her shoulder. With a small squeeze, he let her go. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped over the threshold. A chill ran down her spine, not from the cold but from the slight tingle of magic that caressed her as she entered. She paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The hush inside the cave was reverential, amplifying her own heartbeat in her ears. She turned around, calling out to the others. “I think . . . I think the wards let me through!”
“Good,” Beldor said, putting down his backpack. “Now, come out. I’ll show you how to light a torch.”
Before Anthea could take a step, an arrow shot through the air, piercing Beldor’s shoulder with a sickening thud. The elf let out a pained grunt, stumbling to his knees.
“Iron patrol!” Haldrian’s sharp voice sliced through the air.
Another arrow whizzed past, lodging itself into Syrafina’s brown eye.
Time seemed to slow as the female’s body crumpled, blood gushing from the wound.
The others quickly pulled up their hoods and unsheathed their weapons.
Anthea made a dash out of the cave, wanting to check on Beldor. Hands wrapped around her waist, hoisting her up in the air.
“Stay in there!” Eldrion barked, tossing her back into the cave.
She landed hard on the rocky ground, her breath knocked out of her. For a moment, she was dazed, struggling to get back up. Fear, cold and paralyzing, clawed at her as she watched her companions take cover from the relentless onslaught of arrows.
“At least fifteen soldiers.” Eldrion’s voice was full of grim realization.
Another arrow, slicing through the air with lethal precision, found its mark—Kaelan’s eyes widened as the shaft embedded itself in his neck. A wet gurgle emanated from his throat as he clutched at it, blood bubbling past his fingers before he crumpled, lifeless, to the ground.
