Page 87 of The Stolen Throne
I fold in on myself, wrapping my arms around my waist. He’s protecting me again. Making decisions without me. Again.
I should be annoyed. I want to be furious that he’s risking himself and ignoring all my wants at the same time. Except part of me hopes that it means he cares too much. But mostly I’m…exhausted. Empty.
And scared.
I drop my head so I don’t have to look at him when I say this. It comes out quiet because I don’t have it in me for more. “I know what you’re doing—all of it—is to keep me safe. And I know you’re hurting yourself doing it. I can see that much.” I let out a soft breath. “But I really hate the ways you try to protect me, Reven.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, I spin on my heel and call for Bene as I walk away. Reven doesn’t stop me.
38
Falling Apart
That buzzing of voices is what wakes me up the next morning. I jackknife on my pallet, looking around for whatever is making the noise, but nothing is there except Vos and Tziah.
I drop my head into my hands.
Seven hells. Did I dream it because Reven and I talked about it last night, or was that real?
“That was abrupt.” Vos is standing near the door to the room. “Bad dream?”
“Something like that,” I mutter. “Where are the others?”
Vos and Tziah exchange a look, and she signs something about how they already packed and went down to eat breakfast. I get busy packing my own things.
Reven is downstairs with the others at the table eating when we get there. He doesn’t look at me. At least, I don’t think so, because I don’t look at him.
My parting shot is still hanging over me like my own personal thundercloud. Should I take it back? Apologize?
No. I meant it.
In short order, we’re all fed. Yesterday, we took some time to check all the homes and shops still standing for any gear that might be handy or anything we want to take back to the other Vanished, rather than leave it all here. I even found Vida’s shears. All of that stuff is already packed into heavy bags each of us gets to heft.
We load up with that as well as our own packs we came here with and our weapons—never leave home without those. I groan as Tziah helps me strap in. This is going to be a long walk out of the forest. After a quick last check around, we make our way out of our village.
Reven pauses just where the trees will block the last view and looks over his shoulder. I don’t need to feel him through our scars to know that he’s saying goodbye to the sanctuary he had tried to create here.
I ache, watching him.
The day we fought Eidolon, Reven plunged a knife into the king’s heart. It did nothing. Reven said to me in that moment that Eidolon had no heart to wound…because Reven had it.
I think he might have been right. As the last good piece of the king’s soul, he’s the last piece of heart that was holding on. Maybe that’s why he feels everything so deeply, even when he hides the way he does.
I want to hug him. Tell him that he will return one day. This was the home he built, the safety, the community.
Damn Eidolon. Even if he has reasons—like Tyndra sinking—damn him straight to the seventh hell.
A breeze stirs against my cheek, which should be normal, except the pine needles on the trees and leaves on the bushes don’t stir. One glance at Reven, though, his back still to me, and I know he felt it, too.
Bene prowls up next to me, close enough that I could lean on him. “Something has changed in these woods.”
My blood goes cold. If a Devourer feels it, then we really have a problem.
“We should get going.” I start walking quickly, hoping everyone will pick up the pace.
We go the same way we came to get here, through the massive trees to the southeast. At the border where the woods end, we all stop and stare. Winds we barely heard in the trees are whipping across the land, blowing snow everywhere. Visibility is down to nothing.
Even so, relief is like that first sip of water when you get to a well or spring. Thank the goddesses that we made it out without incident. Not just the voices, but no soldiers, spies, or Eidolon. Plus, we have more to go on now, which is something. Maybe the fates are swinging things our way finally.
