Page 37 of Death Will Follow

“Come. We can begin formulating a plan of attack for Lotus Lake once you’ve eaten.” Samira breezed through the entryway, the airy skirt of her gown trailing behind her, and Nova gladly followed.

The sun sat perched high in the sky the following day as Nova hiked alongside Samira and Bryn through dense undergrowth and red mud, bound for Lotus Lake. Insistent on accompanying them part of the way, Callan had convinced them to allow him to serve as a lookout. He’d agreed to remain in a clearing with the horses, far enough away that he wouldn’t be at risk, but close enough, he argued, to get to them quickly if necessary. His expression was stern when Nova left him, his jaw tight as he looped the horses’ reins loosely around a low-hanging tree limb and peered suspiciously into the surrounding jungle.

“Don’t pout,” she’d teased before giving him a peck on the cheek.

A short time later, sweat beaded on Nova’s forehead and upper lip as she tugged at the hem of her leather bodice, her shirt soaked through and sticking to her torso underneath. A woven pouch hung from her belt at one hip. She glanced over her shoulder at Bryn, who’d fallen behind, and caught the Wyldling staring at something cupped in her gloved hand.

“What have you got there?” Nova shouted.

“Nothing of interest,” Bryn replied, shrugging and dropping whatever it was into her own pouch. “A trinket, though I can’t recall where it came from.”

“We’re getting close.” Samira called out.

“I’ll go ahead to scout.” Bryn took a running start and leapt off the ground, shifting midair in a burst of iridescent black feathers.

Nova shielded her eyes against the sun, watching Bryn in her raven form climb higher and higher above the canopy before disappearing beyond the treetops. Samira resumed the hike, and Nova kept close to her, following in the Noble Lady’s sure footsteps over the uneven terrain.

“It must be incredible . . . to shift like that,” Nova remarked, slightly out of breath, hopping over a thick tree root obstructing the path in front of her. “Or to portal as you do.”

“It is,” Samira answered. “But portaling requires a great deal of control.”

“You’re the first Fae I’ve met who has the ability,” Nova said. She dared not mention the possibility that she, herself, could portal through shadow. Even so, she couldn’t squander the chance to gain some practical insight from an expert. “How does it work?”

Samira slowed her stride to match Nova’s pace. She was quiet for a moment, thinking before answering. Nova realized she may as well have asked Samira to describe the process of breathing.

“Portaling is different from other abilities,” Samira explained. “When you heal someone, for example, you’re calling Aurore’s gift to you. You wield it. To portal, you must surrender yourself to the power. Place your trust in it and move through it.”

She hastened her stride once again, and Nova had to jog a bit to keep up with the female who stood a hand taller than she did.

“For those with little experience, you’ve got to know where you’re going—to have seen the place before. Otherwise, you might end up somewhere you didn’t intend, or lose yourself all together.”

The pair emerged from the thick tree cover into a clearing. Lotus Lake spread out before them, the center much farther than Nova could throw a stone. Bryn soared in lazy circles overhead for several minutes more before alighting beside them, shifting into her Fae form just before she hit the ground.

“Everything looks fine from above. Water’s pristine. I could see straight to the bottom. There’s definitely something down there. At the center.”

“Well, then.” Samira grinned, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s not waste any time.”

In theory, the plan they had devised was simple. Samira would manipulate the water to create a pathway directly from the shoreline to the center of the lake. Bryn would keep watch from above while Nova scoured the lake bed for the Kinslayer shard.

As Samira neared the water’s edge, Nova caught movement out the corner of her eye, followed by a faint splash. Turning her head slowly, she scanned the shoreline. A few rapid beats of her heart passed before Nova spied her. Nearly hidden by the surrounding flora, Mara floated in the shallows, partially submerged and clinging to a flat rock. Her skin, a faintly pearlescent green, shimmered in the sunlight. Inky black hair lay slicked close to her head with the remaining length floating like lily pads on the surface of the water about her shoulders. Her lips and fingernails stood out, a deep ruby red.

An uneasy sensation crept along Nova’s spine as she looked upon the creature. Was Mara simply curious? Observing? Or was she hunting? Nova’s intuition continued to flicker, but Mara remained still, quietly watching them with dark, ancient eyes.

All at once, a great wind roared to life, and Nova’s eyes cut back to Samira. As the Noble Lady held her arms out in front of her, the water lapping at their toes dispersed, a narrow path growing wider and wider as Samira used the conjured wind to part the lake and hold the walls of water at bay. Bryn shifted once more, bobbing up and down on her scaly, black legs for a beat before spreading her great wings wide and launching into the air.

Cautiously, Nova entered the corridor Samira had cut through the lake. It was easy enough at first when the top of the water only reached the level of her knees, then her shoulders. But Nova stopped short when she’d gone far enough that the water loomed high over her head, momentarily awed by the spectacle. She continued along the bottom of the lake, all sound drowned out by the wind roaring in her ears, tugging wisps of hair free from her braid.

When, at last, she reached the center, she flexed her hands and blew out a breath. Glancing around, she took stock of her surroundings. The exposed strip of lake bottom was roughly ten paces wide, and the walls of water stood nearly three times her height. Walking to one side of the corridor, she dipped her fingers into the water and observed a school of colorful fish swimming in formation alongside her.

As she took another step, a solid clink of metal drew her attention to her feet. Littering the ground lay not only gold coins and loose jewels, but bits of armor and discarded weapons as well, broken arrows and blades dulled by time. Crouching down, Nova hurriedly sifted through the jumble of glinting treasure and corroded armor, uncertain how she would even know if she’d found a piece of her father’s sword.

In her haste, she lifted a metal vambrace, then dropped it immediately when she registered the yellowed bones and decaying sinew of a hand protruding from one end. Scrambling to her feet, she stumbled back, eyes darting frantically over the mound of debris she stood upon. Mixed in with the treasure, armor, and weapons lay the bones of Mara’s countless victims.

Nova swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and steeled her nerves. Dropping to her knees, she crawled from one spot to the next, raking her gloved hands through the scrap metal and remains, desperately seeking a sign of Kinslayer.

All at once, pain exploded in her hand and sprinted up her arm, as though she’d touched a steaming kettle. Drawing back, she examined her fingers and palm. Though the burning sensation lingered faintly in her hand, there was no damage to her glove.

Nova resumed her digging, carefully brushing bits of treasure and bone fragments aside until she saw it: a broken section of a sword forged from black metal, the blade as sharp as if it were newly hammered. Despite her wary excitement at uncovering the shard, Nova’s heartbeat slowed. She wanted to touch it. Drawn to it, as though the weapon had whispered her name, she leaned in closer. A faint glimmer of magic rippled over its shiny surface.