Page 30 of Merciless Is My Crown

Tristan making a joke, or the fact that I was relieved to have him with us. I offered him a tentative smile of my own. “Good thing you can’t fly, you mean, otherwise you’d be heading to Darkhold instead of joining us on this cushy ride through the underground.” His grin widened, hazel eyes dancing as he conjured a ball of fire in his palm.

“Say what you will, you’ll be thanking me once we get inside those tunnels.”

I barely remembered Tavion carrying me through here yesterday, other than a few fragmented memories. Tavion frowned at the overgrown entrance. “I’ll help him or this will take for fucking ever.” Tavion’s feet hit the ground with a heavy thud. Even from here, I saw his hands shake when he wound the reins around the pommel of his saddle.

“Are you ready, Anaria? Two days to Nightcairn, then we head to the High Barrens.”

I ripped my gaze away from his trembling hands and mustered a smile. “I’m ready. I only wish you could stay home for longer than one night. Get some real rest. We all need it.”

His mouth was a hard line as he watched Tristan burn a curtain of vines away from the entrance. “Let’s hope Torin told us the truth and the tunnels keep us hidden from the Oracle. I have no desire to do battle down in this dark hole.”

He drew his sword as he strode off, then hacked away the growth, the smell of burned and crushed leaves perfuming the air as they slowly revealed the enormous arched opening.

Adele’s shoulders hunched, making her appear nothing like the arrogant female of last night. “Do you have to rest?” I asked softly. “We could stop for an hour.”

She raised her head enough for me to see her clenched jaw beneath the shadow of her hood. “I don’t stop until you do.”

There was an edge of familiar stubbornness to her voice I recognized all too well. “Then we ride until we’re almost to the portal and make that our first stop.” Tristan and Tavion remounted before turning their horses toward the hole, now large enough for us to file through one at a time.

“Tristan first, then Adele, me, and Tavion. How does that sound?”

“As good as anything, princess.” Tristan urged his horse forward, darkness swallowing him until a burst of golden light ignited over his head, and some of my own fear faded away. We were deep in the tunnel when I looked back.

The forest had already closed off the hole, as if covering our tracks.

That night we slept like the dead surrounded by a circle of blazing torches, the sort of sleep that devoured you so completely you didn’t dream and woke the next morning feeling heavy and off balance.

Maybe that was the reason we were quiet while we ate, packed up, and fell back into line.

Or maybe because in a few hours we’d reach the portal.

We’d stand in that room with the skulls and face everything they represented.

Our past.

Our futures if we weren’t careful. We eased past the underground river, keeping well away from the dark, rushing water, not daring to fill our canteens, our breaths clouding the thick air, the darkness turning threatening the closer we got to that room.

When the hazy blue light from the portal reflected on the hewn walls, I half wondered if it was too late to turn back.

13

RAZIEL

We stopped on the western edge of Caladrius in some small outskirt village and waited for Simon to catch up.

Only a few days had passed since Anaria rebirthed the magic, and this dusty town was in utter chaos, the street clogged with wagons of refugees, all of them stumbling westward in the same state of wide-eyed disbelief, many of them in fine Tempeste attire.

“So much for finding a room for the night,” Torin muttered, watching two Fae males try to budge an overladen wagon stuck wheels-deep in the mud, the team of frothed-over draft horses straining to no avail. “Or dinner.”

“Food and a roof might be the least of our concerns, given how many people are moving west,” I told her softly, meeting Zor’s eyes.

“Let’s find out what we can before we move on,” Zor murmured, heading over to the stranded men to help. “Hello, friend, care for a hand?”

It was a testament to their desperation that the farmers didn’t even balk at being approached by two strangers dressed in battle armor, one with hazy shadows hanging around him like a shield. They jerked their heads to the wheel lodged in the thick mud.

“If you can get that to budge, we’d be more than grateful,” the older male said, mopping sweat from his brow. “Been here for over three hours and you’re the first who’ve offered to help.”

“Where is everyone heading?” I asked casually, rounding the wagon. Only one wheel was truly stuck. I’d freed enough supply wagons to know Zor and I would have this loose in a minute, tops.

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