Page 66 of On Burning Paths

“I didn’t…” I try again through my laughter, but Fenric slings an arm over my shoulder, drawing me in close.

“Don’t mind them,” he says, puffing out his chest. “He’s just jealous that I made you laugh.

“Oh, we’re jealous all right,” Talon says, letting his gaze wander down my body, and it heats instantly, the weight of his lust apparent.

“Just for other reasons,” Thorian clarifies, as if it wasn’t apparent. I allow myself a heartbeat to ache for it, to wish we could do it again, then I clear my throat, turning to look at the demi-god.

“What was it you said?” I prompt, raising an eyebrow at him. “Something about the need to always be moving?”

“You’re right,” he admits, tearing his gaze from me and looking at the entrance to the cave. “If we want a future together, we’ll have to start by surviving the Trials.”

“Well, let’s get on with it,” Fenric says, turning and taking the lead out of the cave.

Sighing, Talon pats the wall of the cave as we duck down and crawl out of the remainder of it. “I’ll miss you, old girl. Oh, the memories you hold.”

My cheeks flush, and I follow behind Talon, with Thorian at the back, unable to keep myself from already missing the cave, and everything that happened there.

I just hope we’ll one day make even happier memories.

19

Nyx

We’ve barely been walking long enough for the sun to fully rise in the sky before the smell of rot and decay fills the air. Talon is the first to gag, bringing his shirt up over his nose, while Thorian wrinkles his next.

Then, it hits me.

“Rotten blood,” Talon mutters, when we turn the corner to find a pile of bones and flesh, gristle and guts, right where we’d been headed.

It takes me a moment to recognize the pile of flesh for what it is, given the untouched head lying near the pile.

“Sir Willem,” I breathe, before turning and gagging into the brush alongside the road.

“Here, come here,” Fenric says, grabbing the cloth he used before as his blindfold, splashing water on it from his canteen, and holding it up to my nose and mouth. “Breathe through this.”

“I can’t look,” I mutter, closing my eyes, trying not to conjure the sight of it again. That’s what I would have looked like last night, if it weren’t for the berries. If it weren’t for our quick thinking and hiding.

“I should be the one gagging,” Talon says, his voice muffled by his shirt. “Do you have any idea how terrible blood churned with flesh smells?”

Thorian grits his teeth and lets out a sound. “I have an inkling. I expected a few to die last night. There’s always at least one. Most are safe, especially fearless warriors. Those who can control their fear, detach from it. My first time, everyone else died. My second time? Only half the competitors. This time though? I have no idea. We have tough competitors.”

“Fuck,” Fenric mutters, rubbing at his face with his hands.

Talon takes a step back, letting out a sick-sounding noise.

“Fenric, come with me,” Thorian says, and although I can tell the berserker does not want to go with him, he does, swallowing and stepping forward with intention.

Talon steps back, gathering me into his arms, as Thorian and Fenric move up the road. There’s the sound of scraping, dragging, and eventually, they return, breathing hard and rinsing their hands under water.

Fenric looks a shade paler than he did before.

“There’s no time to dig him a grave,” Thorian says, wiping his hands roughly on his tunic, then meeting my gaze. “But hopefully we managed to put him to rest.”

Tears spring to my eyes. Surely he wouldn’t have gone to the effort before. He’s done this for me, knowing how I feel about the man, left indisposed like that. The knights might have been our competitors, but I’ve only ever known knights to be pure of heart and fierce warriors.

Unlike Magnus, Sir Willem wouldn’t have come upon me that day when I was undressed. He would have averted his attention, I’m sure of it, even if he’d been trying to hurt me. That’s how knights are.

“Thank you,” I say, and we continue on.