Page 84 of The Stolen Throne
Something like that, actually. “I’m open to other ideas. Do you have any?”
She snaps her mouth shut.
I look around at the others. No one speaks.
“We do have one thing on our side,” I point out. “They will welcome a woman they think is the Queen of Aryd coming to visit.” Looking like the queen has to be good for something.
More grim silence. This is going so well.
“Which means it has to be me.” I know I’m stating the obvious, but just in case… “None of you would be deemed worthy. Guards would stop you and turn you right around. Sneaking in and out will take too long because we don’t know where or how the amulets might be hidden.” I look from one face to the next. I need to be sure they understand. “We don’t want to be making enemies of other dominions right now. We need to go directly to who might know, and not behind their backs.”
Cain’s hands go to his hips, his mouth a grim slash. “It’s too dangerous. Eidolon might catch on and catch you again. Or the other rulers might have their own agendas, or already be his allies.”
It’s the only path I see. I touch the ring on my finger. “Tabra’s sick. It has to be me.”
“Hells,” Vos mutters. He gives a small cough, and Tziah frowns at the sound. Which he pretends not to see. “I can hear the funeral bells ringing now.”
37
Into the Night
I blink slowly awake in the dead of night, with no idea what woke me beyond the fact that I’m currently a human lump of ice under the animal pelts someone scrounged up for us to sleep with. We’re all crowded into one of the rooms up in the trees not burned down. As usual, I’m in a ball on my side, facing the door. In the past, my back would be to a wall or to Cain. Here, Tziah is close by.
“There’s a draft,” I murmur drowsily.
No answer. I roll over, not that I can see in the dark. “Reven?” I whisper, trying not to wake the others.
No answer.
Scooting across the wood floor, I feel around. He should be there. He isn’t.
I could assume he’s relieving himself or checking the village and will be right back. I should. He’s done that on other nights since we’ve been here. Bene goes with him. I know I should go back to sleep. I even roll over and close my eyes, trying to do just that.
Except he has grown quieter and quieter these last few days. Quiet for him is nothing new, but this is something else. Even Vos has been watching him carefully. Surreptitiously but carefully.
I flip back over and feel again. The pallet he made up isn’t even the slightest bit warm. He’s been gone a while, then. But if something was wrong, I’d feel it, wouldn’t I? The shadows inside me would warn me, would feel different. Except he’s been cutting me off.
Unless that’s what woke me.
I frown. Nothing feels off right now. Even so, the dawning sensation of anxiety, right in the center of my chest, won’t let up. The knots twist tighter with each passing second that he doesn’t return.
I manage to make it ten minutes—at least, that’s what it feels like—before I get up. I’m already dressed in my warmest clothes. Trying not to wake Vos, who is grumpy as a coiled cobra when his sleep is interrupted, I give Tziah a shake and quietly tell her what I’m doing. Then I put on my leather boots and a cloak and leave the room, tiptoeing carefully down the winding staircase, half of which is sand that scuffs and crunches as I walk.
“Where are you going?” Bene’s voice in my head has me searching the trees. I find him perched on a high, thick branch that bends under his weight. Watching over us. He’s always watching over us. Devourers don’t sleep or feel cold. Which makes sense if I think about it. Sand probably doesn’t have sensations like that.
“Where’s Reven?” He should be with him. No one is supposed to be out alone.
“Are you avoiding my question?”
“No. That’s what I’m doing out here. I’m looking for Reven.”
“He went to the clearing with the stream. I shall escort you there.”
I’m not going to argue with him, but I don’t wait, either. He lands beside me as I get to the ground, then prowls along at my side, head swinging left and right, scanning the woods as I make my way through the deserted village. I scan the area, too.
No voices. No voices. No creepy voices.
It hits me that I’m silently pleading with the goddesses, only they can’t hear because they aren’t in the Allusian heavens where they should be.
