Page 60 of The Stolen Crown

Mira faced me, brow furrowed. Doubtless she wanted to press, wanted to know why I could not look at her.

She didn’t have time to ask before the trees rang with shrill, painful screams.

18

The Illusionist

I spun toward the trees leading into the center of the isle. Tait stepped in front of me and hurried to the bank of the pond. “Go back to our camp.”

“Not a chance, Hearttalker.”

“Mira,” he warned.

“Tait,” I replied, mocking his tone. “I’ll admit this once and you shall never bring it up again. After that damn sound, I am not going anywhere on this cursed isle alone.”

All my life, I despised admitting when fear took hold, but it was potent enough now that I hardly cared. I was not leaving his side until I knew exactly what, or who, screamed in such agony.

The way Tait looked at me, I wagered he had grand plans to throttle me.

With a curse, he waved a hand and uttered a brisk, “Fine. Let’s get our things.”

We made quick work of hauling our clothing, boots, and the tin of fire sticks off the opposite bank.

Tait pulled a knife from inside one boot before he finished tugging it over his foot. He used the point to gesture at me. “Stay close.”

Close, I stayed.

I dared not touch the man. There was a new sort of violence that shifted in his gaze, like the risk of danger unleashed a brutality Tait otherwise kept buried. Touch always seemed like more of a discomfort for Heartwalker, and I was not keen to distract him now.

I did not cling to his hand or arm like I would have greatly preferred, but hooked one finger in the loop of the sheath on his belt.

Night would soon be here. Naturally. Why did it always seem that frightful things appeared when the sun faded?

Trees widened the deeper we traipsed to the center of the isle. Ground inclined in a way that caused my legs to heat with exertion. I only tightened my hold on his belt.

“Down.”

I muffled a shriek of surprise when Tait shoved my shoulder, urging me to duck behind a waxy shrub. Between the leaves, I could make out a gate, crooked on its hinges.

Tucked behind the wooden panels were overgrown pathways, toppled pails and crates, and casks that seemed as though they had grown into the soil. Debauched homes with cracked rooftops were nestled neatly beside one another. Over the top of the gates a stone tower marked the center of the settlement. There were cracks and broken pieces, but the tower still stood.

“Tait,” I whispered. “Do you suppose folk live here?”

Had other people been here all along? Had they been watching us?

Tait strained his neck, attempting to get a better glimpse at the shadowed village. No lanterns. No voices. Not the slightest bustle.

He faced me again. “Stay here, I’ll go look.”

Another scream pierced the dusk. Even Tait startled.

I dug my fingernails into his forearm, hardly caring how his body shuddered. “I’d rather fall to the hells than remain here alone.”

“But you want to go toward whatever is in there?”

“As much as you do.”

He frowned. “We need to know what we’re facing.”