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I eye him warily, picking apart his wording. “And, if it doesn’t go well?”
His gaze meets mine as he pulls the door open, his expression unreadable. “Let’s hope it goes well.” he replies, his tone tinged with a touch of apprehension and I suppress a nervous shudder.
We arrive at the cemetery in just under an hour and an eerie sensation washes over me as we pass the weathered steel front gates.
Rows upon rows of burial sites stretch out before us, various marked headstones and simple plaques adorning the ground. Vases with flowers in various stages of decay stand beside many of the graves.
Venturing deeper into the vast cemetery at a slow pace, the gates soon fade from view, and a familiar sensation tugs at my core.
Taking a deep breath, I extend my hand and point to my right, “This way” I whisper.
Darian steers the SUV in the direction I indicate, and I’m soon bracing against the dashboard, panting heavily. The pull from the amulet is like gravity itself, if I were a meteor plummeting toward the earth. As Darian slows down near a fork in the road, I twist in my seat to reduce the discomfort and point in the direction with the least resistance.
Darian cautiously navigates the vehicle, his face filled with concern. The pressure shifts as we crawl at a snails pace down the road and I let out a whimper, unable to suppress it as Darian slams on the breaks.
Desperate to get relief, I open the door and abruptly step out, feeling a surge of weakness coursing through me as I struggle to remain upright.
“Shit” I hear the trunk open and shut before Darian appears beside me, shovel in hand and a tense look gracing his features.
He hooks his arm around mine, providing support and patiently awaits my guidance. With the slightest twist of my body, I point straight ahead into the darkness as Darian keeps me steady.
Normally, a cemetery would be illuminated by lights or lamps, guiding visitors along the pathways. This place seems too large to keep track of since many of the lights are out, plunging us into the dark of night as we continue our slow walk.
I come to a halt, my gaze fixed on a small tombstone before us.
“Nina Schleronov” I mutter under my breath, stealing a glance at Darian who stands rigid beside me.
He remains fixated on the tombstone, his brow furrowed. I clear my throat, shifting my gaze between him and the headstone.
“Do you know her?” I ask softly as he drags his hand down the side of his face and shakes his head.
“No, but she died the day magic disappeared from this world.”
I blink and turn my attention back to the grave site.
The tension from Darian hasn’t lessened as he drives the tip of the shovel into the solid ground, its impact reverberating slightly beneath my feet.
It never fails to astonish me, witnessing such displays of Darian’s sheer strength. While being held by him is one thing, observing the raw power he possesses during moments like this sends shivers down my spine.
It suddenly dawns on me that I have no true measure of Darian’s full strength.
The swiftness with which he moves has consistently caught me off guard, as with the seemingly effortless way he ended the lives of the would-be kidnappers in the forest.
So far, I have yet to witness him face any real challenge that would push him to his limits. It leaves me wondering just how much power he truly possesses, and if there are any bounds to it.
It makes me question whether he has to use restraint with me, and what his strength will be once magic is no longer bound from the world.
I watch with renewed fascination as Darian skillfully maneuvers the shovel, scooping the soil aside. Each thud of the tool driving into the ground echoes in the silence of the cemetery.
The minutes turn to hours as he tirelessly continues to dig deeper, not even a drop of sweat on his brow as I peer into the large hole around him.
Suddenly, a sharp impact jolts through his shovel, causing him to flinch and pause as the clatter sounds out into the stillness of the night. The shovel hit something solid, a hard wooden surface peeking out from the dirt, as Darian’s gaze tilts upwards to meet mine.
A small look of relief flashes across his features as he gives me a single nod before carefully shoveling the soil around the casket inch by painstaking inch.
The minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity, accompanied by the sounds of the shovel striking the ground when finally, Darian begins to break the rusted clasps apart with his bare hands.
I blink, once again surprised by his effortless display of strength.
