Page 69 of Death Will Follow

Bryn closed the distance with Riven in a few sure strides, coming to stand with barely a handspan between them.

“Not so. Make your brother see reason.” Bryn’s hand was on Riven’s cheek in a heartbeat, her fingers delving into Riven’s strawberry blond hair.

The kiss Bryn pressed to Riven’s mouth in the next instant seemed to take everyone by surprise—Riven most of all. For all her bluster, Bryn’s display left her stunned. Nova turned her face away, her eyes finding Callan’s briefly.

“I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” Riven said quietly, her tone more sincere than Nova had ever heard it. “Fools—the lot of you,” she added, with a smile in her voice and a blush clinging to her freckled cheeks.

Bryn made quick work of sifting through her own saddlebag and murmuring a goodbye to Strawberry while Riven mounted her horse.

Callan looped a rope loosely around the base of Shade’s neck. “She’s too skittish to roam free,” he explained to Nova as he tied the other end to the saddle on Frost’s back. “But Frost will show her the way and keep her calm.”

Nova nodded, running a hand along her horse’s mane. Once she’d said her goodbyes, Callan murmured stern instructions to his own horse, ruffling Frost’s snow-white forelock, before gently slapping the animal on the rear. With a hand raised in farewell, Riven nudged her horse into a trot and let out a sharp whistle, calling for the three other mounts, who trailed off behind her.

Before long, Riven was out of sight. Nova pressed her eyes shut, attempting to banish the heaviness behind them. True rest had eluded her since they’d entered the Spring Court. Part of her remained alert even while she slept, forever on guard against sprites and the dark beasts that seemed to stalk her from one territory to the next. She opened her eyes and shook out her hands; there was simply no time to waste. Desperate to be free of the unsettling magic of Maedwen and eager to reclaim the final piece of her father’s cursed sword, she nodded at Callan and Bryn, who stepped in close, each taking hold of one of her hands.

As her chest rose and fell with steadying breaths, she called her vision of Sonnend to mind, picturing her intended destination. Her eyesight blurred as she surrendered herself to shadow, inky black orbs sweeping toward her along the verdant ground, bits of nearby shadows breaking off and gathering around her. Clinging to her. Cold crept along her limbs, fear climbing in its wake, and Nova fought the urge to abandon her efforts. Within seconds, the darkness swallowed her completely.

Twenty-Seven

A blast of hot air crashed against Callan’s face as he materialized on the side of a mountain, mere paces from a steep drop-off. Beside him, Nova’s knees buckled, and she nearly lost her balance. He and Bryn grabbed hold of her shoulders and wrenched her back against the mountainside.

“Gods above,” Bryn said. “Where have you brought us?”

Nova’s head lolled between Bryn and Callan, steel eyes blinking as she slowly returned to herself. “Jus’ where I ’tended to.”

Her words fell, thick and syrupy, from her lips; the walk between shadows had taken much from her.

“S’where I stood in my vision.”

“Drop us in the fiery pit next time, why don’t you?” Bryn grinned, jerking her chin toward the summit crowned with a ring of black smoke.

Callan’s gaze lifted briefly to Dawnpeak, then lowered to peer over the narrow ledge they stood upon. Normally, heights didn’t frighten him, but he wasn’t accustomed to so little distance keeping him from plummeting to his death.

Callan cleared his throat, attempting to banish the agitation from his voice. “What’s the plan here?”

Nova pressed her lips together, beads of sweat already gathering on her brow, from both the effort of shadow walking and the oppressive heat.

“Bryn, can you scout for us?” Nova lifted a hand toward the sky stretching between them and the next craggy peak. “The drak from my vision must have a den nearby.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Bryn stepped as far away from Nova as the ledge—barely wide enough to accommodate the three of them standing shoulder to shoulder—would allow. In a blink, her limbs contorted and her body shrank, skin and clothing morphing into dark feathers as she took the form of an ordinary raven. Wings spread wide, she soared on the warm air to survey the surrounding terrain.

Beside Callan, Nova tipped her head back, resting it against the rock, her eyes fluttering shut. Callan fumbled for her hand and squeezed it firmly in his own.

“You really are remarkable. You know that, Starlight?”

Nova groaned, eyes still closed. “You heard Bryn. I came this close to burning us alive.” She held up her other hand, the pads of her thumb and forefinger nearly touching.

“Your accuracy needs work, it’s true,” he conceded, unable to keep a brief smile from his lips. Nova turned her face to him, her disorientation seemingly improved. “But you did it.”

Callan’s smile faded and his brows rose, his chest swelling with admiration for his mate. Her ability to meet any challenge the gods placed in her path.

“You’re incredible.”

Nova smiled faintly, her gaze falling to his feet. Immediately, she tipped her head back, eyes squeezed shut once more.

“Remind me not to look down,” she said on the heels of an airy laugh. “Where is that bloody raven?”

Bryn alighted on the ledge moments later, shifting back into her Fae form and standing so close to the edge that a strong breeze might send her into free fall. The Wyldling’s tone was casual as she delivered a report of her findings, entirely unbothered by the deadly drop, though Callan imagined Bryn was likely more at home in the sky than on the ground. Her keen eyes had spied a cave further down the mountainside; there was no traversable path leading to the entrance.