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“My point is that it takes all of you, not one of you, to keep yourselves safe. Don't put all that weight on your shoulders alone. Everyone has to come together to defeat someone like him.” Shavarra gave me a gentle grin, like it would soften the blow of humility she was trying to give me. She reached out and patted my shoulder with her slender hand.
The smell of fluid and rot that always haunted the dungeons was on the rise as the sun grew higher in the sky and heat filled the small chambers. Its scent choked me. Warmth from the incoming sun spread over my skin with unwelcome heat. The light reached Shavarra’s hand, and she pulled it away.
“Sorry.” She frowned. “I should probably stop that. Dace says I’m too motherly.”
Yes, that was it. Shavarra had a mothering quality about her. That was the comfort that surrounded her. But Dace had been wrong. Shavarra wasn’t too anything. She was just too much for him.
“Don’t worry about it.” I actually smiled. “And don’t let what bothers Dace smother you. Your mothering is probably what most people love about you.”
“Thank you.” She nodded.
Sighing, I twisted toward the stairwell. Life was waiting for me outside of this dungeon. Guilt and self-pity weren’t going to do anything for me. The only thing these cages would bring me was the crushing weight of the many floors of stone when the building inevitably fell.
I pressed my hand against the wall, magic seeped through me and the rock. Vines grew, thicker and stronger than I was ever able to make them before, and twisted over the weaker points of King Ganglin’s entrance.
“That will help hold it for a little bit longer.” I brushed my hands together. “I’ll have to face this day sooner or later.”
Shavarra followed quietly behind me up the stairs. She didn’t speak, but I often felt her attention on my back. I pushed fallen strands away from my face. The tender spot on my head sang in pain, making the world sway around me.
“How is your head?” she whispered as we passed through a long hallway. Bedroom doors were flung open from our quick evacuation.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you say stuff like that a lot?” Worry creased her motherly brows. I had noticed when I woke up that there was a significant bruise. At some point, there had also been a cut, but the evidence of dried blood had already been washed off my face.
“Because I do.” I slipped my hands into my pockets, the motion reminding me of Dace. Longing clutched my chest. I missed him.
“Sometimes it’s okay if you aren’t okay.”
Maybe her motheringwasannoying. I ground my teeth together as I tried to hold back from speaking freely. “I know that,” I bit out.
That was enough for her to stop. She nodded and didn’t bother to speak until we stepped outside.
Nymphs were scattered all over the yard. It had been a while since I had seen everyone together, and then adding in the numbers that Shavarra and Dace had brought with them...we were quite the growing army.
Groups were gathered in small clusters of friends. Arms draped over shoulders and bodies casually melted into laps as the crowd waited. Some stood quietly under the shade of the few towering trees, while others called to each other as they passed under the unrelenting sun.
I tried to look at all their faces, the obvious and subtle differences. Bits of nature clung to their skin. Vines, twigs, and leaves protruded from many of the Nymphs gifted with earth. Strokes of wispy blue curled up the necks of some of the air-gifted. A few even managed to have a constant breeze that effortlessly pushed back their hair. Many water-gifted were in a constant state of wetness, their hair slicked down against their skin as if they had just emerged from the ocean. Scales ran up the arm of a man who aggressively swung his sword at his opponent. Red crept up his adversary’s hand like wicked flames.
Of all the faces I saw, my eyes continued to tick over them, looking for the one face I was missing. An odd hope lived in my subconscious. While I knew Daethian had fled, part of me still recognized that he should be here.
A rough cough sounded to my right. I turned at the clearing of his throat, meeting Slyke’s vibrant gaze. The wind had tousled his gray hair, taking away from his normally put together image. Sun had warmed him, but where red would normally bloom on my cheeks, his looked more purple.
“Do you have news?” I asked the messenger.
Slyke opened his mouth to talk, but Shavarra held up a finger to stop him. “Wait, is it good or bad?”
“We would know by now if you let the man speak.” I blinked.
Slyke smiled at Shavarra gently as she spoke. “I want to prepare myself andyou.”
“How polite of you.” It was all I could manage when my mind was racing in so many different directions.
“I wouldn’t say it’s good.” Slyke patted her shoulder stiffly.
Shavarra slouched. Sweat pooled in my palms, not only from the heat but from the dark cloud of doom that was growing inside of me. Was this news from Dace? Was it news of Daethian?
Slyke’s clouded white eyes met with mine. His indifferent expression was doing nothing to calm me. “Word has traveled through our guild; Ottack’s troops are in motion.”
