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Koshka’s tense excitement vibrated ahead. Then fear spiked. Controlled terror.
I stretched further, pushing like Morovara had instructed me not to.You normally bring me too much. I need to know what’s coming,I tried to tell the magic, imagining the world listening. Koshka was already returning when I felt two determined people struggling against exhaustion. They tasted of a burning cold that tainted my magic and settled into my bones—like paler versions of Lumi and Morovara. An echo of Ealhswip herself.
I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering.Death keepers. Perhaps the priestesses I had seen under the Tower, members of the cult Morovara secretly fought against.
Despite the cold and fear, I rejoiced—we could follow them. I could show Dimitri everything. We would find the food—then the magic reached further and shrieked.
I staggered into Yahontov’s unmovable body, a whimper escaping before I forced my lips shut. In the house Alexei died by, I only hada moment to recognize the dead who moved in the night. Perhaps that was the reason I had not fully felt how twisted the magic was.
Then I ran. Everything inside me screamed to run again. Now.
What moved through the dark was an affront to the Goddess, and the world itself. A wound too tender to touch. A sickness it feared would spread.
Koshka stopped before Dimitri, and I braced for the words I knew were coming.
“Undead.” Her voice shook, her whisper carrying too far. “Get out of here. Now.”
Despite her fear, she turned, determined to protect her prince.
Yahontov pushed me and Dimitri to the side so that both stood between us and the threat.
“Did they see you?” the prince asked, his question barely audible. While the fear I had expected was there, it was controlled.Purposeradiated from him.
I spread my magic again, not all the way to the undead but enough to confirm no one was rushing us. My heart rate steadied.
“No one’s coming.”Yet.
I squirmed under looks I knew were thrown my way until I felt Dimitri’s familiar touch as he wrapped an arm around my waist. He knew about my magic and the warmth spreading from his body meant he was not going anywhere.
Yahontov drew his sword. “That doesn’t matter. You must—”
“I must continue.” Dimitri was already moving without releasing his grip on me. “The King ordered me to find the food. He made it my personal mission to ensure I return to the nobles’ good graces. And we need it.”
The whispered argument continued with ever-lower voices.
“My orders are to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe while I investigate then.”
“Von Uster will hang me,” Yahontov rumbled. “Doubly for keeping your secrets.”
Despite the heated words we moved as one, Koshka again taking the lead without argument. With danger hanging over us, she and Yahontov seemed to have exchanged temperaments.
From my magic’s reluctance to reach further, I gained a feeling of how far we were from the undead.
The closer we got, the harder I squeezed Dimitri’s hand, as if clinging to the land of the living.
Death hung over us.
Cold burrowed inside.
Darkness heavier than any night pressed in as scraping steps filled the silence.
We turned a corner. A mage light traveled through the tunnel ahead, outlining shuffling figures ladened with sacks, their slack features otherworldly in the blue light.
Five undead men and women. Before them a priestess’s white robe shone purer than anything else down here. I knew there had been two of them, but my magic refused to listen anymore, my body barely doing any better. The second one must have moved ahead of the rest.
The four of us kept our distance, following as silently as we could. Their light did not reach us but seeing what was ahead made it easier to move.
