Page 13 of On Brutal Thrones

Above us, the intense oranges and purples of sunset have softened into gentler shades, streaks of pink and gold fading into the approaching blue-grey of night. Thin clouds stretch across the horizon like smears of cream, and after so long underground, I still find myself looking up every few minutes just to reassure myself the sky is there.

Thorian suddenly slows, his attention fixing on the far side of the clearing. “You see that?”

Talon follows his gaze, and his face brightens. “Oh, thank the Divines.”

I squint in the same direction, but all I see are trees and deepening shadows. “What? What do you see?”

“A place to sleep that doesn’t involve rocks, crystals, or the possibility of being buried alive,” Talon says.

“A cabin,” Thorian clarifies.

“That sounds significantly less exciting when you say it.”

Relief moves through me so quickly that I almost laugh. “Is it safe?”

Thorian’s gaze remains fixed on the distance. “We’ll find out.”

It takes another couple of minutes before Fenric and I can finally see what their superior vision picked out from so far away. A little cabin sits nestled against the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, nearly hidden beneath the shadows of their branches. It has clearly seen better days. The windows are nothing more than dark openings, several boards along the exterior have warped with age, and the door hangs crookedly from its hinges.

But I’ve never been so relieved to see four walls and a roof.

We make our way down the gentle slope toward it, and with every step, my body reminds me how badly I need to stop moving. My legs ache from the magic I used underground, and my stomach feels painfully empty. Still, the sight of that cabin keeps me going. A roof. A place to sit. Maybe even a few hours where nothing is actively trying to kill us.

And, judging by Talon’s expression, the most important part is that it’s definitely not a cave.

By the time we reach the little patch of dirt in front of the cabin, dusk has deepened around us and the first chill of night is settling into the air.

“Stay here,” Thorian says, while he and Talon disappear into the cabin.

Fenric bumps my shoulder lightly against his arm. “You okay?”

“I’m all right. Really.”

His gaze travels over me as though he’s not entirely convinced. “You collapsed earlier.”

“And now I want to collapse in a soft bed with silky linens while eating and drinking my fill.”

His mouth twitches.

“But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Not today, but I’ll make it happen, one day.”

I smile, but the humor fades when he reaches over and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for saving our lives,” he says. “And for trusting us with your secret.”

Warmth moves through me that has nothing to do with the temperature. Every time I remember that I finally told them, my body seems to experience the relief all over again. I've carried that secret for so long that sharing it still feels strange, as though I should be terrified of what comes next. Instead, with Fenric standing beside me, I feel lighter.

His expression tells me there’s still a lot he wants to ask, and there’s even more I need to tell them. But right now, I’m too tired to pull apart a lifetime of secrets. Luckily, the cabin door creaks open before he can say anything else, and Thorian and Talon step outside.

“All clear,” Talon announces. “And there’s even a bed.”

A bed. An actual bed.

At this point, he could tell me it’s infested with spiders and I might still kiss it.

“It’ll be safe enough for the night,” Thorian says, his gaze settling on me for a moment before moving over the rest of the clearing.

Relief sinks deeper into me. Four walls. A roof. A bed. After the cave, even this half-rotting cabin feels luxurious. More than anything, I want to get the dirt off my skin, eat until the hollow ache in my stomach disappears, and crawl beneath whatever blankets we can find.