He studied me without any sense of belief. “Just be patient with me, okay?”
“Okay.” I pressed a kiss to his chest. As much as it grieved me to do it, because it was the very thing that made it possible for him to speak, I capped my power. The rosewood glow faded, and with it Noc’s demeanor hardened. What I would’ve given to have an endless supply of magic.
“We should get going. We’ve still got a few days’ ride to Oslo’s Ruins, and we have to make it to Silvis’s Ruins by the first full moon of winter.” I craned my neck over my shoulder to stare out at the horizon where the early rays of sunlight were claiming the sky with golden-pink fervor.
When we returned inside, Oz was already busy in the kitchen and Kost was digging through our saddlebags, rearranging contents to suit his liking. Noc and I dressed in our travel attire quickly, and we ate some quail eggs Oz had found in the woods. He also unearthed some roasted coffee grounds tucked away in a cupboard, and I summoned Tila, my monkey beast, to ensure they were safe for brewing. The kick of energy from the coffee, coupled with the warmth in my chest from having an honest conversation with Noc, left me feeling prepared to take on anything.
We continued to ride north for two days until the Kitska Forest tapered off, leaving nothing around us except an open expanse of endless, knee-high grass. For the most part, the travel went smoothly. It was as if opening up about his past allowed Noc to gain some control over his oath, even without my powers, and there was an easiness to his breath that had been missing before. I’d still find him staring off into the distance sometimes, jaw clenched and eyes unseeing, but when I intertwined my fingers with his, he always came back to me.
By the time the sun reached the middle of the sky the next day, a lone tree had sprung into view.
“It’s huge.” Ozias craned his neck upward as our Zeelahs slowed to a walk. Fading wheatgrass had transitioned to a thick blanket of lime-green moss and lush clover. Roots bigger than people crested through the soft earth, creating bark-covered hurdles that reached up to our chests. They radiated outward from the thick trunk of the tree in a circle that seemed larger than the city of Hireath. Dilapidated stone walls with loose masonry formed feeble archways and pillars around the tree’s base, and a tiered landing draped in thick vines held what appeared to be a sealed sarcophagus made of marble.
Noc pulled his Zeelah to a halt. “Oslo.”
I glanced past him to the ruins. “Is he really buried there?”
“A mage is buried at every site.” He dismounted but didn’t move any closer. “Nepheste too. We just didn’t cross the lake to the altar.”
“Are you all right?” Kost slid out of his saddle and pinned Noc with a hard stare.
“Yes.” His eyes remained glued on the ruins.
Slipping to the ground, I tilted my head upward. The tree reached toward the sky and formed a bowl, the leaves trapped between the endless blue stretch and the thick patchwork of branches. Splaying my hand out, I called on my power and was met with the groaning of the beast realm door. Onyx appeared with a happy yowl, and he rammed his head into my chest.
“I know this isn’t your favorite, but can you take me up there?” I scratched behind his ears and jutted my chin to the platform above. Onyx huffed and shook out his mane, teal feathers shooting out in a display of discontent. “C’mon, please? You flew me home from Hireath.”
“Does he not like that?” Oz scratched the back of his head.
“Not particularly. It’s not that he can’t carry me; he’s just finicky. He’s the only beast I have who can, though. Dominus’s wings can only propel his own body weight.” I reached down and scratched the expanse of his chest. Onyx sighed and tilted his head to the side. Permission granted.
I trailed my hand over his back and gripped the fur at the base of his neck, hoisting myself up. His lithe muscles rippled beneath my legs, and I gave him a tight squeeze. A purr that bordered on a hiss dripped from his maw.
Noc finally dragged his gaze away from the ruins. “You shouldn’t go alone.”
I tried in vain to subdue my frustration and pointed to the tree. “Can you climb that? Onyx can only carry me safely. He’s not used to transporting people. I’d have to train him to do so, and as you can see, he’s not a fan of that.”
“It’ll be fine, Noc.” Oz placed a hand on his shoulder. “Really.”
“She’s picking a piece of fruit. There’s no danger involved.” Kost glanced between the two of us. “Just be quick, Leena.”
Noc caved. “Better yet, be safe.”
“I will.” The tension in my shoulders faded. He was trying, that much I could see. “I’ll be right back.”
I nudged Onyx’s side, and he crouched low into his haunches before leaping into the air. Wings beat hard, and his body propelled us toward the cloudless sky. Rippling muscles raced beneath his skin and pulsed against my forearms. Sharp and cool, wind whipped my hair and battered my face, but it couldn’t chase away the inevitable grin that claimed my lips. With each beat of his wings, we soared upward and away. Away from the unease and anxiety. Away from the problems we were fighting to solve. Dazzling sunshine doused the world in a soft radiance. When we climbed high enough to see over the lip of the branches, my mouth went slack. A field of pear-shaped fruit just barely visible beneath a thicket of rubbery leaves and thorns glowed a vibrant pink. Hope. Tangible and real.
Leaning against Onyx’s neck, I spoke into his ear. “All right, Onyx. Find us a place to land.”
He circled three times before descending, finding a particularly thick tree limb that supported his body. Sliding off his back, I kept my weight in the balls of my feet and straddled between two netlike patches of leaves and branches. Onyx let out a soft yowl. Slumping to his stomach, he steadied himself with his legs draped on either side of the limb. Lazy eyes slid closed.
“Take a nap, why don’t you?” My gaze flickered between him and the high sun. He huffed, taking in the warmth and ignoring me entirely.
Gingerly, I took a step forward. The rubbery leaves were springy and bounced back against my boots, giving lift to my step. The dense packing of greenery was remarkably sturdy, but I didn’t trust it to hold my mass for too long. Peering beneath the pool of green, I spied a nearby ruska fruit glowing like a beacon. It was caged by thorns and elbow-deep beneath the branches, ensuring it wouldn’t be snared without enduring a considerable number of scratches.
Tightrope-walking along the branch, I sidled up beside it and left Onyx slumbering behind me. I dropped to a crouch and rolled back the sleeve of my coat. My shadow pooled beside me, and a slow-moving vine receded with the sudden lack of direct sunlight. I frowned at the retreating, thorn-covered trap, but brushed away my concern. A few less scratches—no complaints from me. Diving my fingers beneath the thicket, I let out a soft grunt as the first series of thorns dug into my hand and wrist.
“C’mon.” I pushed farther and winced when the jagged barbs nicked my forearm. The ruska fruit glowed with expectation. One final cage of thorns barred my path. Fashioned like rows of teeth, they held firm until my fingers just barely grazed their glistening skin. A quiet exhale trembled through the leaves, and the thorns parted.
