Page 62 of The Stolen Crown

I shook my head. “No. Look at them, left in such a way, no offerings, no totems. What if they’re wandering the Otherworld and cannot find the great hall?”

Tait frowned but peered at the dead remains with a touch of softness.

Sea fae and earth fae shared beliefs about the Otherworld. Sea Folk focused on gods of the great seas, and earth clans envisioned a grand entrance to the great hall where those who’d gone before us would greet us with curved horns and tales of glorious battles.

Abandoned in such a way, without supplies burnt with the body, a soul might wander, lost for centuries. I did not know if the lore was true, but I couldn’t leave these poor souls, not like this.

At long last, Tait sighed. “There could be many more dead here, you realize that?”

“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “It’s not as though we have any pressing engagements.”

“What of escape? Is that not how you wanted to spend our time?”

“I plan to do both.” I waved my hands around. “We’ve found a village. Do you not suppose there are supplies we’ll find useful?”

Tait looked down at the corpse and frowned.

I snickered. “I’ve come to believe that when you go stoic and silent, it means you agree one of my ideas holds merit.”

“It means I do not have the fortitude to argue in circles with you.”

“Don’t be sour simply because you didn’t think of it first.”

“I already had the same idea, merely chose not to share my every thought.”

“It’s sweet, you know, when you try to be the hero, the wisest, the most cunning, in everything. Almost like a competitive young one who wants to best me. Tell me, Hearttalker, did Bloodsinger never let you win as a boy? Is that why you do it?”

He ignored me and rummaged behind the bones, looking for anything of use. “We’ll send any dead to the gods, then pillage a bit, see what else we find. But after the sun rises. We need to get back. There’s no telling what comes out at night on this isle. And unless you want to be left wandering the Otherworld with them”—he tilted his head at the bones—“you won’t argue and we’ll go now.”

“I do not argue when your words make sense, only when they do not.” I spun on my heel and strode out of the alcove.

A low “Maddening woman” flitted at my back.

With the source behind the eerie screams revealed, the walk toward the gates was not as frightening.

Halfway back, my toe caught on a dark vine buried beneath the mulch and overgrowth, and Tait was forced to heave me upright.

“Think you can make it back to camp without breaking that royal neck?” he grumbled.

“Always so worried about my neck.” I brushed leaves from my skirt. “One might say you have a great many thoughts about my throat and all the things it might be able to swallow.”

I winked, rather pleased with the beautiful flush shading Tait’s stubbled cheeks. Only after he stepped in front of me, cursing my salacious tongue, did I catch the glimmer of molten gold flowing in the vine I unearthed.

Gold vines? Tait saw it much the same, one brow raised. The swirling liquid flowed through the thin veins of the long vine. But when I crouched to inspect it, the flicker of brilliance dimmed, slowly extinguishing like a dying flame.

I touched the dull vine. “What was that?”

“I don’t know, but there is something strange about this place. It feels as though the air has…”

“Marked us,” I finished when he did not go on.

Tait nodded. “We need to go, Vicious.”

I could not shake the thought that whatever happened to these people would soon find us much the same.

19

The Heartwalker