We clear the dead wood before the afternoon sun fades and can finally breathe clean air once more. The grass has now givenway to rocks and packed dirt, and the bank of mountains to the west serves as a barrier for going in any direction but north, with the coast farther to the east.
“We’ll carry on and camp outside of the next wood.”
“Don’t like the idea of sleeping in the trees, Kalan?” Crimson mocks.
“Oh, deary, it’s not me I’m worried about. Didn’t your father tell you not to stay in the forest at night?” He looks to both of us and chuckles in our faces. “Of course he did.”
I stand in the clearing, focus on my energy, and force my power out, seeking the connection to Ever again. We must be close enough now to feel something, tofeelher again. But as I scream her name inside my head, I’m met with nothing but silence.
“How long after we camp?” I round on Kalan.
“In a rush, are we?”
I narrow my gaze at him and let my mind run over every single move—every step—we’ve made on the journey here. Why isn’t he more concerned? He’s meant to be looking after her, but keeping her safe doesn’t seem to be at the same level of priority for him as it is for me.
“Do you know their plan—Fenix and whoever he’s with?” I ask, changing the subject and looking for something else to focus on other than not getting to Ever.
“No. I might spend time with them, but I’m not one of them.”
“You trust them?”
“No.”Great.
“They trust you?”
“Enough.”
“Enough? That’s reassuring,” Crimson joins in.
“I said I’d take you to Nehandun. After that, there were no promises.”
Guess we can’t trust him either. “Fine. Let’s get going,” I snarl the words. The sooner we make camp, the sooner we start again.
fourteen
. . .
Ever
Hours morphed into days. The night arrived. The sun rose.
But I didn’t see the Usher or Fenix again.
Food and water were delivered.
The sentry outside recovered. I tried stealing his power again and again, but the bars held. The sentry switched out. Warriors. Always Warriors.
But the bars held.
And with each outburst, my frustration grew, allowing my fear to seep deeper into my bones, until it was as if that was more a part of me than anything else.
Even the moonlight of Aslendrix couldn’t invigorate any hope inside of me.
My body ached. My heart pounded. But I endured.
I clung to what started all of this—Fenix freeing me from my past prison. He doesn’t want me dead. There is a purpose to my being here.
I’m used to waiting. I’m used to being locked away. But in here, it burrows into me and plants doubts I can’t escape from. They haunt my waking moments just as vividly as they invade my nightmares—the snippets of stolen sleep I’m able to grasp before waking again.
