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Above Kade, Bleu let out a stream of neighs, stomping his feet on the cliff’s edge. Kade left the inlet, finding Bleu trotting back and forth, nodding his head up and down.
“Whoa, there,” Kade said, trying to grab hold of the reins.
Bleu relented, knocking Kade’s shoulder back with his muzzle and forcing Kade to face the lake once more.
At the shoreline, Evelyn trudged shin deep into the water, yelling at—
Kade’s heart plummeted in his chest. He sucked in a breath, willing his legs to move.
The water. The death.
The darkness.
I left her. I left her. Kade mounted his horse and sprinted down the path to Evelyn.
Who was yelling at a horse—or very likely not a horse—that looked exactly like Bleu.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evelyn
While Evelyn searched the lake’s shore, she caught a glimpse of her own face in the still water. Pale as the moon with hair as dark as night. Her gray eyes, tired and weary, looked fathomless reflected in the lake. Something felt off. Her magic sensed darkness. Fog dissipated as wind rolled down the hills—yet the lake was still. Too still. No birds chirped, no fish nibbled at the surface. Only the pebbles crunched under Evelyn’s boots as she looked for clues.
Alone, she tried to dismiss thoughts about Cyrus and the wedge between them.
We’ll do it your way, Princess.
She’d pushed him away, shut him out, and gave him no explanation as to why, and it seemed her efforts had worked. It had to be done, but then why did she care so much about what he thought? And why did it matter? Even though Evelyn hadn’t decided yet if she’d return home, she’d leave Callum to go somewhere.
Alone.
Evelyn could no longer deny or tamp down the feelings forming for the huntsman. She liked him. Her disappointment this morning had been evident enough. Cyrus had not greeted her with his smile, and his eyes had not been bright. He’d been civil enough, but they’d said less than five words to one another on the three-mile trek to Lake Glenn.
She shook her head and stilled her thoughts as she looked for more clues. Evelyn extended her magic out and sensed death. One thing was for certain, Fiona had died here.
Was it her cloak off in the distance? Evelyn searched for the path Cyrus and Bleu had climbed but couldn’t find them through the tall green weeds swaying in the wind.
A neigh from behind Evelyn jolted her around.
Bleu, Cyrus’s gray steed, stood in the lake, pawing at the water. He neighed and thrashed, splashing cold water onto Evelyn.
“Bleu!” she called out. “You stubborn horse. Get out of the water!”
Where had Cyrus gone? She hated to think of the demons that Aster had mentioned slumbering in the lake. Her magic bristled with awareness. Evelyn gripped her staff, bracing for an attack. No doubt, Bleu wasn’t helping. His hooves continued to stomp in the lake, trotting from side to side, surely calling forth whatever demons hid under the surface.
“Fucking flames, I hate horses,” Evelyn said through gritted teeth.
She stepped into the water, cursing the beast and the cold and darkness. She reached to grab his reins, but he danced out of reach.
“Bleu!”
Evelyn’s magic swelled in her chest. Darkness approached, brushing up against her light. Bleu halted, huffing hot breath onto her face. Rotten fish and salt churned Evelyn’s stomach. She blinked through the horrid smell and found Bleu’s milky white eyes staring back at her.
Evelyn stopped—
“Saige!”
Evelyn turned toward the frantic, urgent cry. Cyrus raced for the shore atop Bleu, his tanned face pale and flushed with exertion, his eyes wide and crazed. His knuckles shone white as he pulled on the reins, frantic in his effort to urge Bleu forward.
