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I won’t survive it. None of it.
So, I straighten my spine, swallow down the lump of remaining doubts, and meet Draven’s gaze. “I’m ready.”
“You always were.” His words take my breath away. Instead of responding, I throw shadows around us to take us where death clings in the air and thrives free from the shadows.
A blur of darkness swarms us until an icy chill dances over my skin, causing my breath to fog in front of me. Draven grunts beside me when our feet touch ground.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” he rushes out in a huff.
“Get used to what?” My eyes are scanning the outskirts of the broken mountain.
“Transporting through shadows.”
I regard him as a thought crosses my mind. “Have you ever tried?” I ask quietly. My shadows flow across the ground, moving like water to sense if Whiro or any ghouls are nearby. “I mean, you command the shadows too. I just wonder…” I trail off when I retract my power, sensing nothing amiss.
“I’ve never thought to attempt it. But…” He shrugs. “My beast would feel dormant if I don’t stretch my wings, and flying is…”
“It's freeing,” I finish for him.
“Very much so.” His breath plumes in front of him, but no matter how freezing it is, his body emits heat like a walking fireplace.
The silence is heavy as we regard one another, a single nod to acknowledge it's showtime. I feel down the bond, checking to see if the toxicity in the atmosphere is affecting him, but I don’t feel any burning pain. His lungs expand with ease.
I leave a trail of shadows shimmering in our wake as we start our trek. I nudge Draven as one would do to a prisoner. Impatient and annoyed.
He remains silent, but his pride and appreciativeness swell through the bond, caressing the organ in my chest. A comfort to the ache that grows with every rough shove I give him.
Otherwise, we remain silent, not wanting to draw attention and blow our cover. Eventually I move to walk in front of him, pulling him along behind me, and keeping my back to him as if he was a piece of dirt on the bottom of my boot.
There haven’t been any sightings of Whiro’s ghouls, which I’m grateful for. Though I could easily take them, the question would be if I’m fast enough to silence them before they mind-link the others. This sparks a kernel of hope for the path to be clear for the others as well.
Steady, sure steps keep my balance on the stone bridge as the smoky fog swirls beneath. I almost forgot how stale the air is and how the ashes floating around us part as we continue forward.
I follow the same way Whiro took me the last time he showed me the Sea of Souls. But something burns in my throat in warning as we step into the broken mountain, and the spears made of stone cry as their tears splash on the ground.
Scuffing echoes down a tunnel, revealing a handful of ghouls who pause. Their vile gazes snaring on me as they hunch forward, sniffing the air. Their eyes blow wide before screeching, the piercing sound bounces off the cave walls and sends waves of sharp pain to stab into my eardrum.
This is it; I think. No turning back.
They jump on hobbled feet, following behind us. I refuse to look back, to make them think I care about them or worry about the male tied up behind me. One deep breath in helps loosen some of the tightness building in my chest. And I keep a steady awareness in our bond, making sure Draven is okay and that none of the ghouls dare to touch him.
When we round a corner, the stairs leading to our destination appear. Waves of jasmine crest the moment my boot touches the first step, flooding my senses. Draven coughs behind me, before he clears his throat as we continue our descent.
“Are you okay?” Even my voice in our minds tremble, my worry evident. Though no one would be able to tell with the hard set of my face as we reach the final step.
“Checking up on me?” comes his velvety voice in my head. “I’m all right. The floral scent caught in my throat for a moment.”
Still, a sense of unease trickles through me.
“No need to worry about me, little demon. I have the most spectacular view.” His next words almost hurtle me out of character and have me snapping my head around to him. I manage to refrain, staying ramrod straight and biting my cheek to keep my lips from turning up.
Light glows brightly in contrast to the rest of Gehendra and rushing water fills the silence from the waterfall existing in the middle of the massive silvery pool. My heart threatens to pound like raging fists against my chest, but I focus on my breathing, slowing it down. I can’t show any sign of change; I have to be the demon he believes he created.
We scale down towards the water’s edge and only then do I turn around to Draven, quickly meeting his gaze before tearing my eyes away. I can’t linger on him, even when all I want to do is look at him, to help wash away the chill that’s causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. From what I can see, he is playing the victim perfectly with a broken look glistening in his eyes.
Ghouls gather behind us, lined up and scaling the perimeter of the cave, watching, waiting. Their clicking grates on my nerves, making my power hum in my blood with the need for vengeance.
“On your knees.” The tone of my voice holds weight as I ram my elbow into the top of Draven’s back, forcing him down. A small fissure in my heart spreads, but then a comforting warmth soothes it. The way for him to let me know it’s okay. He may have mentally prepared for this role, but I didn’t. Not to this extent.
