Page 104 of Vasmora

“Zevander?” I crawled toward the mouth of the cave, wondering if anyone would hear me. Panic drummed in my chest like a rabble of bats trapped in a barrel, my arms and fingers numb.

The scorpion skittered ahead of me and turned to face me, as if trying to block my path. I focused on its small body, the way it stared up at me. A part of Zevander there with me.

If he wasn’t okay, the scorpion wouldn’t be here, I told myself.

Long, deep breaths pushed the cold sensation away, and I sat back on my heels, eyes shuttered to the empty quiet of my surroundings.

He’s okay.

I scooted myself back toward the flame that still blazed violet.

His flame. His scorpion.

Still here.

The flame mesmerized me as I stared back at it, lulling me into calm again. Raising my hands showed lingering stains from Melantha’s blood, though the current had washed most of it away. I curled my broken finger, relieved there was no longer any sharp pain.

The sound of stumbling footfalls, too sloppy to be Zevander’s, swung my attention toward the cave entrance.

The bloodbinder stepped cautiously toward the cave, offering a wide berth for the wolf who tracked his every move. Behind him trailed one of the masked men, who shoved the short, squatty bloodbinder past the flickering barrier.

He tumbled to the ground with a grunt, but one glance toward me, and he frowned, jumping to his feet. “Vy do I have to share a cave vith her?”

“Oh, would you like me to show you to our royal suite?” The same guard who’d captured us let out a hearty chuckle and winked at me. “Don’t worry. She won’t bite. Much.”

I slid my gaze back to the bloodbinder. “Or you could release me from this binding, and I’d want nothing more to do with you.”

“I told you bevore. It can’t be broken.”

“You told me while under the tyranny of a brutal woman,” I argued. “She’s dead, in case you missed it.”

“She can’t die. The woman is cursed!”

“Well, then, take it from someone who’s seen those caves firsthand, she likely wishes she were dead.”

“Even iv I could help you,” he said, lifting his wrists where two copper bands shackled them, “I’m as poverless as you.” He turned away from me, running his hand over the barrier.

A growl rumbled from the other side as the wolf bared its teeth, and the bloodbinder backed himself closer to me.

Silence stretched between us, while I studied him, contemplating how I might approach him. Luckily, I was no stranger to stubborn men. In my experience, antagonizing them often seemed most effective.

“You intended to turn me over to the mages,” I said. “For what? A pittance of coin?”

As anticipated, he sailed a glare back at me, my remark clearly insulting. “Vor the existence ov our realm. Sacrivicing one mortal to save thousands ov Aethyrians seems rather altruistic, iv you ask me.”

I exhaled a bitter laugh. “Oh, don’t fool yourself, little man. You are terrible.”

“And you are a nuzance!” He circled around the bonfire, heading toward the back of the cave, as if to search for a way out.

A flicker of movement in my periphery snapped my attention toward a tiny pup trotting toward me. Its paws, too big for its little body, and silver eyes that almost glowed in the dim cave, told me it had to be a wolf. I lifted my gaze toward the beast still guarding the entrance, who seemed unconcerned with its attention elsewhere.

Before I could stop it, the scorpion darted toward the tiny wolf, stinger raised to attack.

The pup stopped in its tracks, bent low, and growled at the charging arachnid, its warning drawing the attention of the adult wolf that swung around.

“Wait!” I held out my hand toward the scorpion, as if I had any power over the damned thing. And yet, the scorpion skittered around to face me, then darted back to my side.

Strange.