I’m tackled by such relief, my eyes sting. A feeling I’m quick to scrub away with the heels of my hands, shifting my thoughts to something that doesn’t make my heart ache.
Sereme. The bitch.
Maybe her instructions got caught in the Mists and she’s pissed. Knowing her, she’ll slice me until they turn up, or until I come crawling.
Literally, the worst timing.
The muscles in my back continue to pinch and spasm from the brutal intrusion, making it hard to breathe properly.
If I don’t walk this off and stretch my spine, I’ll ache for phases.
Tucking Kaan’s note in my pocket, I shove up and pull on the pants and boots he gifted me—a perfect fit. I rebuckle my sheath and swathe myself in the new cloak that feels much lighter than I expected it to. Like Kaan’s realized how much I struggle with heavy materials that lock in too much warmth.
I smile despite my fucked-up predicament, flick up my hood, and move out into the cold outside—not a soul in sight bar the odd parchment lark fluttering through the snow, dodging fat flakes. Other than that, even the skies are quiet.
It must be slumbertime, meaning we slept all dae.
“Creators,” I mutter, striding across the courtyard, out the gate, anddown the stairs toward the river, stretching my arms, back, and neck. Thick snow crunches beneath my boots while the fresh fall patters my hood, making a soft song as I move through the colorful village, breathing the smoky botanical smells huffing from tall chimneys. Taking in the different buildings, some glazed by the odd shaft of powdery sun slitting diagonally through the clouds.
Being so close to the border, with cold air nipping my nose and color-stained windows everywhere I look, it feels as though we’re in The Fade, minus the oppressive weight of Cadok’s rule. Like stepping into a vibrant dream that feels too good to be true.
And perhaps it is. Perhaps this goodness will get swallowed, too. Something hard not to dwell on with the impending moonfall and all that transpired in Bothaim. With the echo of my blood-bound reality still pinching my nerves.
Everything feels temporary. As does the well-being of whoever thought it prudent to follow me—my skin prickling from their leering presence.
I wander toward the riverbank, across the bridge Kaan reshaped, pausing amongst a dense pocket of trees beneath the towering might of Líri’s pillar. Perfect coverage if I have to slit this fucker’s throat. Don’t want any unsuspecting younglings peering out their windows because they can’t sleep, only to see me hacking through a carotid.
The heady musk of body odor comes to me on a flick of wind while I look past droopy branches appearing to reach down and sip the gushing water, fingers grazing the hilt of my blade.
Whoever this is, they’re not used to the warmer climate this far north …
The air shifts.
I whip around, slam my forearm across the throat of the large black-robed stranger, my dagger poised at his dick. He makes a dense huffing sound as I back him against the gnarled trunk of a tree.
Unfamiliar green eyes leer at me through the darkness cast by his hood, and although his body is lax—a demeanor that suggests I could remove his testicles and he wouldn’t so much as flinch—the tensing muscle in his jaw tells a different story. As do the words he finally spits.
“Careful,grunt.”
Though it sounds like he’s speaking past a gag, something about his syrupy voice makes my skin crawl. Like I’ve heard it before.
Somewhere.
I frown, shoving my weight forward. “Who are you? And why are you following me?”
A brooding silence slips by before he grits out three words that loosen the knot on every tight muscle in my body.
“From the ashes.”
I sigh.
“The Elding will rise,” I mutter, shoving back, eyes narrowed on the stranger now straightening his cloak—no doubt come to monumentally fuck up my coming daes. “How did you find this place?”
Silence.
Right.
I plant my hip against a trunk. “Guess you’re here to hand deliver my summons to Sereme?”
