At the well, the girl moved the handle like she had done it many times before. She lifted the attached bucket and steadily filled the empty one. I could not stop staring at her thin arms, her neck with its tendons clearly visible on the surface of her skin.
She was about to leave and I had to make a decision.
Do I let her go, or make my presence known?
But I did not have time to think it through because she was already moving down the street, back the way she had come.
For a moment I stayed rooted to my spot. I chewed on my lip, unable to decide. At last, I followed her, hiding my presence the best I could while keeping my distance. The girl was too frail to carry her bucket, her skin appeared paper thin. She looked like someone who was repeatedly exposed to the beating sun. Everything about her screamed that she was in distress.
We spent thirty minutes travelling through the city, and then when buildings became scarce, we took a winding road, leaving the settlement behind. Every time the girl encountered a crawler, she stayed motionless until the undead simply moved away. Finally, she stepped on a long pathway between two abandoned buildings. The ground was covered with shattered glass and pieces of wood and fabric. I lifted my eyes to an enormous storage house up ahead.
What do we have here?
I could not help a smile.
This was it!
The place the high priestess wanted me to find.
The settlement was not far out in the wastelands. It was right under their noses, all along. It occurred to me that the presence of the crawler dragons was the reason no one wanted to search the area. I could not blame them, I barely made it out alive.
As the girl approached the building, I found more and more evidence that the place was occupied. There were more buckets hanging on hooks along the walls of the building. There was also a barrier closer to the entrance made out of furniture and repurposed iron rods that created a gate, securing the building from the front.
It was definitely the Scar’s place.
I switched my gaze back to the girl, wondering if she was one of the sisters.
Why would she willingly return to the building if she had been kidnapped as Mahin had said? She definitely went straight to the building on her own. If she was one of the disciples of the goddess, why not run? She had to know multiple entrances leading to the compound.
I frowned, watching her enter the building. One of the enforced steel doors opened with a dull metallic crack, letting the girl in. It was too dark to tell who was on the other side.
The girl clearly lived there. She was alone, no one was watching her, she could escape, and yet, she walked straight in.
They couldn’t be that bad then. I could walk over there and simply knock.
Or could they? What if Mahin was right? What if I’m ambushed once inside?
No. I wouldn’t risk it.
Slowly, I took a step back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ALINA
Icould not keep from scrutinizing the interior of the spacious audience chamber we were shown into. Everywhere I looked, color caught my eye, the grandeur worthy of any palace. The floor was made of a combination of several types of precious wood, probably native to the forest that hugged the city on both sides. The intricate mosaic showed colorful patterns of light on the impeccably clean and polished floor. The walls were decorated with skillfully crafted glass panels. The elongated windows invited more of the daylight and infused the artfully displayed glass designs in every possible way.
Along the walls stood the warriors, and knights of the white clan. Each and every one of them had a standard blade attached to the hip, and leather armor that varied from light grey to chalk white. The contrast between the white clan and the clan of the black dragons was astonishing. Back in Darragh, warriors were free to modify their suits and choose any weapons to their liking. In Alsaard, their defense looked nearly identical.
Silence filled the room as we stopped in the center. I could physically feel the tension in the air when Sage stepped closer to my side, as if preparing to shield me from an ambush. May’s gaze mirrored my own uncertainty. When our eyes met, she swallowed, looking down.
Tynan’s hair brushed against his cheek, as he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword with his shoulders relaxed and a calm expression in his eyes. He slowly scrutinized the platform with its elaborately decorated, empty chairs, as if already bored with the meeting. I checked our bond and realized that underneath it all, he was nowhere near being calm. He was ready to fight.
Time moved slowly and yet, the old clan leader still had not come. I could feel the atmosphere in the room getting more tense with every passing moment. Someone right behind us shuffled his feet and Tynan’s head snapped in that direction. The black warrior closest to me reached for his sword. It was getting bad.
Could that have been Rutherford’s plan all along? To hold us in a secluded room long enough until a fight broke out? Was it so that the white clan could claim that we were the ones who started it?
I took a deep breath and moved forward. I could feel the attention of the entire room on my back as I stepped up the stairs of the platform. For a moment, the pristine, plush carpet in the brightest shade of crimson took my thoughts away as I stopped in front of one of the chairs. But then I turned to face the crowd and the rows of warriors. Tynan’s dark umber eyes locked on mine, shining with the deepest feeling that went straight through my flesh, to my heart and soul.
