Page 138 of Tears for a Broken Sky
Phoenix
The wind howled as we reached the edge of the cliff. Below us, jagged rocks and shadowed crevices stretched into the unknown.
“I told you,” Caelen muttered behind me, “we should’ve taken the ridge. This is a godsdamn death trap.”
I shot him a look. “And I told you the ridge would’ve taken two days longer. He doesn’t have that time.”
Caelen scoffed, crouching to test the first handhold. “I’m amazed Elira puts up with you.”
“I’m amazed she doesn’t punchyoumore often.”
He huffed—but there was the ghost of a grin. “I’m sure she would, if she could.”
Even I let out a short laugh.Too true.
The prince grunted and began his descent. I followed, boots grinding into loose shale. The cliff face was brutal—steep, brittle in places, slick with salt-spray from the sea far below.
Halfway down, Caelen muttered, “When I die falling off this gods-forsaken cliff, I hope you write me a kind eulogy.”
“I prefer not to lie about the dead.”
Caelen took a step and slipped. I caught his arm without thinking.
He froze, sending me a pale, surprised look. “Thanks.”
I let go immediately, frowning. “Don’t mention it.”
We kept up our descent. The path was near impossible. “I’m not trying to be a dick, but how do you know Slade is even alive?” Caelen asked finally.
“He’s not dead.” I spoke with more force than I intended. “He wouldn’t die like that. He’s … unstoppable.”
Caelen glanced at me, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “I admire your faith.”
“It’s not just faith,” I muttered. “I know Slade. This isn’t how he goes.”
A beat passed.
“I don’t know,” Caelen said. “Dying for the one you love… seems like an okay way to die.”
“Drop it,your grace.” My voice came out flat. “I’m not giving up until I see a body.”
“Optimism. How charming.”
I ignored him. My fingers burned from gripping the rope. My focus narrowed to the ledge below—a narrow shelf that dropped into a deeper ravine.
We reached it, one after the other. The moment my boots hit solid ground, I scanned the terrain. The rocks were sharp, fractured by time and pressure. But something else caught my eye.
Blood.
I crouched and touched the smear staining the stone. Still dark. Still tacky.
“Slade,” I muttered.
Caelen joined me, brow furrowing. “He came this way. But that’s too much blood.”
I stood. “He’s injured. Badly.”
The trail led into a crack in the cliff wall—a narrow fissure barely wide enough to squeeze through.
