Page 92 of The Stolen Throne
“The Shadows”—Reven manages to look even grimmer—“didn’t like what Cain was shouting.”
I frown. That’s it? They didn’t like someone telling me to stay away from Reven?
Before we fought the king, he once told me that Eidolon’s Shadows wanted me. Craved me, he thought.
Reven’s expression goes dark. His expression, not the Shadows’. “And they—no, we—hated that he struck her.”
Oh. Well…okay.
I clear my throat and fiddle with one of the cloths laying discarded beside Cain. Did he touch me to ensure—for himself and the Shadows—that I was okay? Is that what calmed them?
Horus moves closer to where I sit, practically hovering over me. “Maybe you shouldn’t be anywhere near Meren while you don’t know what’s happening to you. Go back to the zariphate while we go to Wildernyss.”
I shoot him a glare. No way am I sending Reven off alone. “We’re bonded by shadow. It’s too late to separate us.”
Every person around us goes dead still.
Which is when it hits me what I’ve said, what I’ve admitted. Horus, Vos, and Tziah all knew that Reven had healed me with a shadow rite after the escape from the soldiers in the temple, but they weren’t in the room to witness it. They don’t know how it worked or that a piece of Reven is what is holding my insides together. I clear my throat. “It’s probably why I could hear them, too. The shadows in my scar.”
“You are a deep well of secrets, aren’t you?” Vos murmurs.
Screw apologizing again. “I’m doing my best here.”
Reven says nothing.
Maybe while he’s still on edge I shouldn’t be near Cain. Carefully, I lay his head on someone’s pack that was dropped next to me in the middle of everything, before standing and moving well away from him. “Can we just focus on getting out of here?”
“Only if he’s not going to lose his shit again.”
Reven doesn’t even look at me…he looks at Pella. “Keep Cain silent and away from me…and Meren.”
Typically, I’d be pissed off he’s making decisions for me, but I’m not sure pulling Reven back would be as easy a second time, and he’s clearly still on edge.
After a moment, she gives a sharp nod, then goes back to binding his wounds.
“What’s the plan?” Horus asks.
Right. Reven can’t shadow us now. It’s too dangerous to even attempt it. So how are we going to get to the portal? “Bene, if you were your true size, could you fly us?”
“Yes. However, I require sand.”
“I could probably pull enough from the ground in the Shadowood, since we don’t need the stuff for the stairs anymore.” It will take a while to get more, but with both me and Bene working at it, maybe not as long?
“That means going back into the woods,” Horus points out. “Is that really a good idea now that the darkness is attacking people?”
“Maybe it won’t attack everyone, just Reven? Or”—I risk a glance at Cain—“someone trying to help Reven?”
Tziah jumps to her feet and runs at the forest before anyone can stop her. As soon as she’s within about twenty feet of the trees, that tar-like shadow whips out at her. In an impressive move, she ducks, then rolls backward into a crouch.
“Guess that answers that,” Pella mutters.
The shadow slowly withdraws. Tziah backs away carefully until it’s safe to turn around and make her way back to us. Vos moves to intercept her. I can’t see his face, but based on Tziah’s contrite expression, I’m guessing he’s not happy with her little maneuver.
Right. So no getting sand from the Shadowood. I pull my power forward and reach for the sand in the ground beneath us. But I can’t, because even the ground is too hard.
I feel an epic screaming fit coming on. Not that I’ll give in to it, but just once, can something we try not be one step forward and a hundred steps back? I’d even been congratulating myself that we’d completed this trip to the Shadowood safely.
I patted my own back too soon. Clearly.
