Page 24 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

“Eat up,” he says shortly. “We should probably find another cache to restock before the moon goes down.”

And, fledgling bond or not, I know instinctively that the matter is closed.

For now.

About an hour or so later, we stop near a cluster of roots that rise out of the ground like knuckles, thick and gnarled. The air here is colder. The bark of the trees is paler, almost luminous in the moonlight.

Thane lifts a hand, signaling me to stop.

I do, immediately. My sudden pause rouses Binx. The ungez was snuffling softly, wrapped around my neck, lulled to sleep during the last leg of our trek. Lifting his head, he makes a questioning sound.

I kind of want to do the same.

Thane scans the area once, then twice. Only when he seems satisfied does he step toward one of the trees, trailing his fingers over the trunk.

“This is far enough for tonight,” he announces.

Already?

“We’re stopping?” I ask. “Why? We’ve only been walking for⁠—”

“Long enough,” he cuts in. “You’re not used to Noctavara.” He gestures over his head at what I assumed was the moon until he says, “The sun will be setting soon. Dark will follow. It won’t be safe to continue walking and, besides, you’re tired.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“You are,” he says, “and so am I.”

I’m more surprised that he admitted it than that he’s grown tired at all. Still…

“I need to keep going,” I insist, softer this time. “Rafe⁠—”

Thane’s gaze sharpens. “If you push until you collapse, you won’t survive long enough to find him. Immortal or not.”

The bluntness of his words hits like a slap, especially after Mom put ‘dying’ and ‘Noctavara’ in my head at the same time earlier today.

After a moment, I swallow the snappish retort I wanted to let out and, instead, I nod.

“Fine,” I manage. “We stop.”

Thane gives a small nod in return, like we just negotiated a treaty instead of the fact that we’re probably both too exhausted to argue anymore.

He steps away from the tree and gestures toward a patch of ground where the strange grass looks thicker. Softer.

I hesitate.

“Do you want me to lay out a blanket too, demoness?” he asks with a hint of a smirk.

I glare over at him. “I don’t know what you have,” I say, allowing myself to snap this time. “And I didn’t realize you meant we had to sleep outside.”

“What you see is what I have,” he says, gesturing at his belt. “I can gather more supplies in the morning, but this is everything.” He pauses. “Bandit, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” I mutter, shaking my head. “It’s fine. We’ll be fine. Right, Binx?”

Binx makes a soft sound of agreement, more for my sake than Thane’s.

I lower us carefully, skirts gathered in my hands so I don’t snag them on the roots. The ground is damp, but not so cold that it cuts through the woven fabric made for me from the best seamstresses in Nuit. Still, I can’t relax fully. My shadows curl closer to my boots, like they’re trying to shield me, while Binx hops down from my shoulder and circles once, twice, before curling up on my lap with his tail wrapped around his body. His white eyes remain open, watching the dark.

Thane stands a few paces away, scanning the trees again, and I realize he hasn’t sat. He hasn’t even shifted his weight like he’s preparing to join us on the ground.