Page 37 of Ivy & Bone

“You saw those shadows, right?” Cyrus asked in an undertone.

“Not now,” Prue hissed, glancing over her shoulder. Truth be told, she just wasn’t in the mood to discuss this with him. But it was smart to keep quiet just in case other assailants lurked nearby.

Prue used the last of her coin to secure passage in a carriage headed for the Emdale Mountains. She stared for a moment at her now empty coin pouch, wondering how in the hell they would make it all the way to Faidon when they had no money. But as the coachman readied their carriage, she shook away her fears. Even if they had to go without food for a day, they could make it. Faidon was on the other side of the Emdale Mountains.

They could make it. They had to.

Cyrus helped her into the carriage, and the pain in her ankle was so severe that she didn’t object. When she collapsed in her seat, Cyrus clambered in after her before shutting the door. To her surprise, he took the seat right next to her instead of the one across from her. Startled at his sudden nearness, she tried to scoot away from him, but he stared at her intently.

“I didn’t burn you to hurt you,” he said, his voice earnest. “I did it to frighten off the death shadows.”

Prue stared at him. The coachman above them shouted something, and the carriage lurched into motion. Prue’s arms flung out in alarm, one of them catching Cyrus’s shoulder. But as the vehicle settled into a more soothing rhythm, she relaxed, only to find Cyrus smirking at her.

“What?” she snapped. “I don’t suppose you’ve been in many carriages in the Underworld, have you?”

He only snorted, shaking his head at her.

“Death shadows,” she repeated. “What is that?”

Cyrus immediately sobered. “Essence of a particular demon. A wraith.”

Prue went very still, the color draining from her face.

“You’ve heard of them?”

Slowly, she nodded. “The wraith is what came out of the Book of Eyes just before . . . just before Mona died.” She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth in frustration. She should’ve recognized those shadows immediately. That same eerie darkness had chased after them in Krenia, too.

It had killed so many. Including Mona.

Prue shivered and rubbed her arms, gazing out the window at the brick buildings they passed. “So, what does this mean? Did it come from the Underworld, or from the book?”

“I’m not sure.” Cyrus hesitated, and Prue looked at him with suspicion. When he caught her gaze, he added, “Vasileios, my eldest brother, often uses wraiths as his subordinates. My first thought was that he sent one after me.”

“You mean after me.”

Cyrus froze, his eyes widening slightly.

“That wraith cornered me in the alley.”

Cyrus rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, you’re right.” His gaze turned distant, his jaw working back and forth. “Why would he be after you?” The words were nothing more than a whisper, as if he were asking himself more than anything.

“Maybe he’s threatened by our bond? Maybe he knows I could potentially gain your power?”

Cyrus rubbed his chin. “It’s definitely a possibility. But it would make more sense to kill me instead. I’m powerless, and then our bond would die, too.” He shook his head, frustration glinting in his eyes. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Prue heaved a sigh and sank backward against the cushions. “I’m sorry. You know, for assuming you were trying to attack me.”

Cyrus shot her a rueful look. “I would’ve assumed the same. All is forgiven.” He held her gaze, his silver eyes probing as if searching for more in her face. She met his stare head-on, unabashed and unafraid, trying to ignore the restless stirring in her stomach at the intensity burning in his eyes.

Prue wasn’t sure which one of them looked away first, but they both turned to gaze out their respective windows as the buildings melted into open plains and vast farmlands. Prue stared wistfully at the rows of crops, reminiscent of the small farming lands in Krenia. Were her mother and Sybil all right? Was the magical barrier still protecting the village?

A long while passed, and when the agony pulsing from her ankle was too much to bear, Prue sifted through the ingredients she’d bought from the apothecary. She dabbed her ankle with the lavender oil, hissing in pain as the wound throbbed, then sprinkled rosemary and sage over it. When she waved her hand over her foot, vines crept in from the corners of the carriage. How they managed to grow and follow a moving vehicle, Prue had no idea.

“Integro,” Prue whispered. The space between her hand and her ankle shimmered, and heat burned into her foot. She gritted her teeth against the intensity of it, staring instead at her vines, which had multiplied, creating almost a thick carpet of ivy along the carriage floor. Her magic swelled, and rosebuds popped up among the ivy.

Prue sucked in a breath, thinking immediately of her sister. Roses had been Mona’s grace.

Gradually, the heat in her foot subsided, her magic receding back into her. The ivy snaked out of the carriage, and the rosebuds vanished, leaving a hollow feeling inside her chest.

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