“Hello, Mother.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DRYSTAN
Keep him under rubelline locks. I’ll come myself.
– Correspondence from Lord Pavel to Stynguard forces. 10thof Winter, 072.3E.
Drystan – Western Sultira
Ashiver racked my shoulders, and I glanced out the window, unable to shake the unease left by the snakes we’d barely escaped. Shadows danced along the wooden panels of the old man’s cabin, the fire on the hearth casting a dim light along the wall. A large form moved through the back of the room, and I tracked Ezrich’s shadow as he sat down at the table with the stranger.
Windsor.
His head bobbed, and I turned, realizing conversation must have started from the way the two shadows moved.
White hair hung in long, neatly groomed lines down the old man’s back, half of it pulled up behind his head. He crouchedover the table, his back hunched in what appeared to be a permanent arch. I moved to the table and pulled out a seat as Windsor handed me a mug of tea.
“Says the snakes started coming from the south two months ago,” Ezrich said. His hand movements were slow to follow.
Windsor tracked the movements with his pale, blue eyes.
“From the desert?” I asked, doing my best to verbalize the words, knowing they didn’t sound exactly as they should as I marked the wince on Ezrich’s face. Looks like his used to bury themselves in my psyche, a deep, defining part of myself marking me as different. But after twenty-four years of this, the expression simply rolled off my sense of self like the drip of tea sliding down Ezrich’s mug after he brusquely set it down.
Windsor understood my words because he nodded and began to reply. “Yes— near the— not many survivors.”
His lips moved too quickly, and I grimaced as I missed half of his words, but I thought I understood what he meant. My head dipped in response, and I studied the old man, my brows furrowing as he looked at me. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
I slid my gaze over his hunched, slim frame, wondering how, exactly, this frail old man had survived any encounter with those snakes.
“We need to share this with Ronan after we find the edge.” Ezrich turned to me, and my pulse jumped.
My hands flew up in response, ready to silence him, but the damage had been done. Windsor perked up. The old man’s head cocked to the side, and I forced my face to relax.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
Ezrich blinked, his mouth opening, as if unsure of what to say.
Shit.
I cut Ezrich a shut-the-fuck-up look, hoping like hell he didn’t say anything else.
“I’m sorry. Can’t share,” I replied, tilting my eyebrows and doing my best to mimic Lyvia’s father. He’d always had a way of connecting with people, persuading them.
“Of course,” Windsor murmured after Ezrich translated. He dipped his head in understanding. “You are welcome to stay— collect my traps— town is ten miles.”
I nodded my head in thanks, but signed, “We’ll help you set a few traps, but we should go soon.” I slid my eyes to Ezrich, who seemed partial to staying for a while as his eyes landed on the chest of furs in the corner.
Ezrich didn’t feel the same urgency when it came to finding the edge of the rubelline zone. He didn’t have powers. They weren’t left screaming behind a prison wall, scratching and clawing along it, searching for escape, desperate for air, for breath.
I’d had one glimpsing minute of the Advetis power when I’d finally unlocked it. One fucking minute to feel what I knew I was meant to feel. What had been waiting for me my entire life. The ability to move. To be free. To fly without wings. Before it was taken away.And I needed it back.
“Thank you for the hospitality,” I continued, slugging down my tea and taking a quick survey of my pack and weapons.
“—welcome,” Windsor murmured, adjusting his long coat as he stood and helped us gather our things.
“Drystan.” Ezrich turned to me. “We could use real rest, especially after the snakes. Stay one night. The horses could use rest.”
