"Then come with me and carry him!" I suggest, losing my patience.
"How many are there?"
"Twelve, but there might be more."
Stellan slips Kelen over his shoulder, running with me and stopping behind a tree. I cringe, pressing my lips together. Every one of Stellan's steps sounds like an elephant in a library. That would be a good nickname for him, actually.Back to the task at hand, Rennalya.
We make the next crossing, but a twig snaps beneath Stellan's colossal foot. I hold my breath, panic threatening to make its ugly appearance in my mind as they all swivel to face the rock we hide behind. "Kelen, quick. Which one took the stone?"
"My vision is blurry."
"Fuck! Tell me!" I hiss, into his ear as they get nearer and nearer. Kelen squints through the bushes beside the rock. “N-none of them. He was bald, with a t-tattoo on his head."
My heart tumbles down to the base of this mountain, and despair fills the void that it left. We haven't even been on the right track this whole time. My hopes for the success of this mission teeter dangerously on the edge.
"Wait...,” whispers Kelen, blood dripping down his lips. "They were with him. All of them."
Hope radiates from the centre of my chest, dangerous and threatening. I don’t like it when people say that it’s the hope that kills you, but it really is.
Stellan nods at me and I take it as my cue to get moving whilst they wait behind. I track them closely as they search for us, remaining hidden behind rocks and shrubs until they stop and give up—just one foot away from the giant shard of rock that Stellan sits behind. His nostrils flare as his hands clamp firmly over his own mouth and Kelen’s.
Disgruntled, they turn and take an odd route back to wherever they came from, banging their feet on the floor. I frown, wondering what they're doing until out of the ground, a trap door opens.
All I catch is a quick glimpse of a bald tattooed head before they all jump inside.
Chapter36
Out of the Frying Pan (Renna)
Standing atop the mountain, my breaths short from the lack of oxygen, I let out a whistle that sounds like a bird and Stellan and Onyx hurry over. Kelen's body flops against Stellan's back as he runs, like some kind of sad fish. It’s a tragic end for a tragic man. Poetic, really. “They're down a trap door."
"On a mountain?" My deputy asks, disbelievingly.
"I know what I saw," I whisper, pissed off. "Kelen, darling, go and walk over?" I suggest, in a saccharine tone. The vicious wind whips my hair around my face. We’re in the clouds up here, and it makes the air quality and visibility poor.
"He'll blow our cover," protests Onyx, but I know he trusts my plan because he releases his grip on Kelen's ankle.
A low grumble erupts in Stellan's throat. He doesn't like my plan either. Stellan is a cat, who wants to play with Kelen for days before we kill him. That is a luxury we cannot afford up here.
I shove Kelen to his feet, reminding myself that this man is responsible for more deaths than anyone else in the last seven hundred years. As he starts to limp out from behind the hedges, something on Stellan's face catches my eye. I cannotbelievethis man. "You've done your fucking eye makeup."
"Of course I've done it. I'm famous for it."
"Priorities, Stellan," I say, incredulous and lost for words, as I look at the dark charcoal that lines his striking pale green eyes.
He just grins, giving me a smouldering wink. "The ladies love it."
"And which ladies are they?" I ask, gesturing at the barren grey landscape around us.
He snorts. "You never know, baby, you never know. Men love it too."
"Go then?" Snarls Onyx, his venomous gaze burning into Kelen. Kelen looks unsure, but with Stellan's sword at his back, he begins to walk towards the trap door.
"So, why are we sending him?" Asks Stell, eating a dry cracker as Kelen approaches the trap door.
"To be sure there aren’t—“
My sentence is cut off as a set of huge metal jaws hidden beneath the dirt snap upwards, clamping down on an unsuspecting Kelen like a shark flying out of the water.
