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There was no sense in being afraid of a storm in this coven, so after our meal, we took off. If it wasn’t a blizzard, it could be treacherous lightning or tropical storms, and that would have been far more dangerous for us all.
Though it became difficult to see, we made it to a nearby tunnel entrance with an overhang for the horses to rest. The gray sunlight faded away once we left them and the carriage tied up and began our trek through the hollowed, underground tunnel, lit with scattered torches. In many ways, my childhood hovered around us. In the smell of metal lingering in the air, the echo of faraway voices guiding us onward, even the dim lighting. But by the time we’d left the sleigh behind, I was nearly crawling out of my skin with anxiety. My stomach churned, and my bones rattled.
Atlas wrapped an arm over my shoulder, slowing us. “Trust me, Frostbite. I won’t leave you.”
Yet.
The unspoken word drifted between us..
“Do you want to stop anywhere and see your parents or friends or anything?”
“No,” I breathed. “Let’s just make this quick.”
“Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind.”
Slowing my pace, I stepped away from him. “I left my parents long ago and since I’ve never had a marked Storm Coven witch, I haven’t returned. And I’m grateful for it. I don’t want to linger.”
“But if you did…”
“I don’t.”
We’d have to go to the River Coven next, and I needed as much time back in that sleigh to prepare as possible. I’d spent a lot of these last years in fear of dying, and whatever backbone I’d once possessed had left me for humble caution. I no longer had it in me to face unbearable heartache, and that included looking into the face of my parents, knowing I was responsible for the death of the child that had been the perfect blend of both of them.
As if he could read my thoughts, Atty took my hand. “If I have to deal with my past, maybe you should, too.”
“I’m not really a fan of practicing what I preach.”
He shared a sad smile. “I wasn’t really a fan of watching my father kick me out or seeing Laramie die all over again.”
“How does a promise to come meet them another time sound?”
I had him there, and he knew it. He’d have to commit to something with me, and that was his weakness. But I wasn’t ready. Hypocrite or not, I could not look them in the face.
“Fine. I won’t push it.”
He saw my conviction and accepted it, turning on a heel to keep going. “Did you live in these tunnels as a child, or are there houses down here?”
“There are certain paths that cut off in many directions toward separate pods. The pods are the homes.”
“I guess the Storm Coven witches have no issues with claustrophobia,” he said, clearing his throat.
“If the walls feel like they're moving in on you, watch your feet and keep steady breaths.”
He nudged me. “I never said I was afraid.”
“Neither did I.” I winked.
“Where are we going here, anyway?”
I lifted a shoulder, happy to let the conversation go in a different direction. “I have no idea. The king sent you, not me.”
“You are so helpful. Has anyone ever told you that before?”
“Daily.” I tugged him forward. “Come on. There’ll be a pod at the end of the tunnel. We can ask someone there, I’m sure.”
The underground hallway narrowed as we moved further down and through. His broad shoulders seemed to graze the walls as we walked, and I wondered if he’d complain, but instead, he whistled a tune, smiling when the sound echoed. We carried on like that until he jerked to a stop.
“Did you hear that?”
