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“Y-yeah.” He wrung his gloved hands, worry creasing his features. “Why?”
“You just seem… A little distracted.” Like when he’d smacked into his back when they left the shrine. Noel tried to remind himself that Grey was wishing for death not all that long ago, but his recurring periods of silence put every part of him on edge. “It’s okay if you’re worried about this. I think we’re all stressed about trying to get this done and over with but remember that you’re not alone.”
Grey hesitantly nodded and rubbed his arms, almost like he was staving off a chill in the lingering, eerie mist.
Cy dropped her fuel canister next to Noel’s. “I think we’re good for the final stretch. You two ready?”
Noel’s eyes flicked to Grey, who bit his lip.
He cleared his throat. “Nervous, but I’m ready to be done with this.”
“You planning to go back home, or…?” she asked, tilting her head while her arms folded over her chest.
It took everything in him not to steal another look at Grey. He felt Cy’s scrutiny, like she was nudging him to let him spill his guts here and now, but he’d be lucky to get a squeak out with how badly his heart started to race. So he opted for a, “Maybe.”
She rolled her eyes—the most subtle way to call him a coward before setting her sights on Grey. “And what about you?”
Grey stiffened, looking like a deer caught in a city guard’s spotlight. “Um…” He squeezed his arms a little tighter. “I don’t know. Probably home. Don’t really have many options.”
Noel’s heart sank, but Cy patted Grey’s shoulder and reassured him he’d figure it out. This was undoubtedly another way for Cy to needle at him, but she didn’t direct any further jabs in his direction before climbing onto her bike.
Noel stepped in front of Grey. “Hey,” he whispered, fighting back that urge to pull him into a hug and tell him he’d take him anywhere he wanted when this was over—a promise he wanted to make, despite wanting nothing more than to take him back to his parents and lie about every horror they’d encountered. A scenario in which he’d paint them this wonderful picture of the two of them meeting and becoming so intertwined in each other’s lives that they’d have to accept him as another son. The easiest way to give Grey a family he deserved, but one he’d likely recoil from since they were macharomancers that watched hemomancers with hostile stares.
Grey’s eyes met his, seemingly searching for the words Noel was trying to pull forth.
He held his tongue while he scavenged his mind for the right thing to say—the right sentiment for the moment that said just enough, but not too much to shatter everything between them. “If you don’t want to go home after this, I can help you in finding somewhere else.”
God, that sounds so needy. You don’t really think he’ll take you up on that, do you?
Grey looked away, his shoulders dropping ever-so-slightly with Noel’s heart. “I don’t want to trouble you anymore. I think if this has taught me anything, it’s that I’m better off staying with other hemomancers. I’m… I’m glad I met you though.”
The way his face lifted again made Noel’s chest tighten. Here he was, so close to letting it all spill out, and he’d fumbled it. His throat closed when he tried to ready a question and another—all of them related to something closer to his true feelings, skirting that fine line he didn’t want to cross until this curse was broken, at the very least. So he settled for the one thing he could bring himself to say: “I’m glad I met you too.”
48
NOEL
Coward.
That was the sole thought looping through Noel’s mind during the winding paths cutting through the woods. Every other sound of rustling or eyes glinting somewhere in the depths of the darkness rolled off his back with that single damn word. And it crushed his heart when Grey held on even tighter, like their world might erupt into one last fury of fair folk trying to stop them from escaping their twisted snare.
But it wasn’t dark yet. Whatever lurked just beyond their vision was waiting for the next couple hours to slip by to when they were plunged into the cover of night. Not that the time of day really mattered when they were heading straight toward a den of vipers dressed in finery calling for their blood. Or people like Cavan seeking to use them for selfish gains—a trade in which he would’ve lost nothing, only to gain something in return.
His hands tightened on the handles, his body leaning forward to match Cy’s increasing speed. The world flew past in a flurry of greens and grays, the mist dispersing in their wake, as if it were finally bending to their will.
Across a bridge, down another winding path, following the bend that sloped down and around the mountainside, the Grand Capital’s hulking, white-stone walls came into view during the descent. He could crush it with his thumb, but the sheer sight of it from this height made his stomach twist. It grew smaller during the downward hurtle until it was enveloped by foliage stretching between them.
Cy rolled to a stop along the widened dirt path, glancing back at Noel as he glided forward to catch up.
“Something wrong?” he asked, feeling Grey shift at his back.
Her eyes flicked skyward in her brief pause. “We should find a place nearby where we can watch the entrance. I don’t think it’s going to be dark enough by the time we get there.”
Noel took in the cascading, orange-tinted hue of twilight, biting down on his tongue. “You don’t happen to know of a good stake-out spot, do you?”
Cy grimaced. “Not really… Skirting the edge of the woods might be our best option, even though it’s a risky one.”
Grey’s arms squeezed a little tighter around him again, that fear cascading into Noel until he willed it back.
