Page 139 of By the Flames of Her Fury

Her words emboldened me, sharpening my focus. The entire room seemed to swell with her determination. Even Dom stood straighter. “Just be careful. We’ve lost too many people.”

Sloane nodded. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have the Lightbringer, did they? Let’s see what she’s really made of.” She shot me a smirk. “Come on, help me get some supplies.”

I followed her out from behind the curtain. We turned down a couple more rock-lined halls before she veered left, into a new room. This one had tables full of worn, rusted weapons; baskets of arrows without their quivers; mismatched swords and daggers strewn across the room.

“Where do you get your weapons?” I asked, fingering an axe with a chipped handle.

“Wherever we can. Some people brought theirs with them when we moved down here a decade ago, others we get from monthly raids to the surface.”

“Raids?”

“Yeah. We have to get our food from somewhere, don’t we?” She picked up a small dagger, flipped it, and shoved it in the side of her boot. “We have teams that rotate every month. They go to the surface and get as much food and medicine as they can without being caught by the Elders’ guard. Some teams are for supplies, some are for information.”

“And they’ve already tried to get into the catacombs before.”

She paused, brown hair shadowing her features. “Yes.”

I bit my lip. “Can I ask what happened to them?”

“Like Dom said, there are powerful wards.” She shoved a couple more weapons into a small bag, then cinched it tight with a quick jerk of her hands. “Our people got caught. Nobody returned, so we don’t know what happened for sure, but I assume they became more hollow husks in the Elders’ body count.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “It must be hard to lose your people like that.”

She sheathed another sword. “Don’t be sorry, Lightbringer. Just be better. We’re doing this for your Everett, yes, but we’re also doing it for them.”

“I know.” I grabbed a couple extra blades for myself and Tessa, and we both headed toward the exit. Before we stepped outside, I planted a hand on Sloane’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “You don’t have to help me find him, but you’re risking yourself anyway. I wanted to say thank you.”

“Just keep him alive.” Her jaw twitched. “That was more than I could do.”

My heart clenched at the admission, and I thought about the crystal she had touched back in the Remembrance Wall. But she didn’t go into details. Instead, she pivoted and led me out of the room, back to Dom and the others.

“Ready to go,” she said.

I passed Tessa the weapons I’d taken for her, then pointed to Starke. “Stay here. We’ll be back soon.”

“What?” he exploded. “You’re out of your mind if you think⁠—”

“You don’t have magic,” I snapped back. “This isn’t a ship, Starke. You’re out of your element, and I might not be able to protect you.” At the mixed outrage and hurt on his face, I softened. I took a step closer and tried to reach for him, but he jerked away.

“Starke, please,” I whispered so the others couldn’t hear. “I know you’re angry with me. I know I hurt you. But I still care about you. The Elders have already taken one person I love.” I licked my lips. “I can’t let them take anyone else.”

Those familiar blue eyes held mine, as steady as they’d always been. But I had been so blind. I’d looked into them countless times over the last year, and yet this was the first time I saw the betrayal. The rejection and anger, the hurt and desperation.

He blinked, and it was gone. “If that’s what you want, V,” he said, voice heavy.

“Are we going, or not?” Sloane called out behind me.

I swallowed, then turned to her. “Let’s go.”

67

Vera

She held out her hand, and Tessa and I both took it. There was a strange tug on my elbow right as we disappeared. Sloane’s “blinking” magic took us from the underground bunker to a dark tunnel in the blink of an eye, and I landed on the rock floor of a large cavern. Tessa and Sloane coughed as dirt kicked up around us. But another thud made me whirl around.

“Starke!” I shouted, raising my hands in frustration. “What the⁠—”