Page 123 of Oathborn
Not even if it felt pointless. What chance did he have of outrunning those supernatural warriors?
That was just it. He had no chance at all. If they were close by, they would hunt him down like a wolf taking down a rabbit. It was not his safety that mattered in the end, but the child’s. She was innocent, young, no more than four years old. He had to keep her safe. Swiftly, he set her down, holding one finger to his lips to motion for her to be quiet, and the other digging in his pocket. With a small sigh of relief, he found the small bracelet.
It fit her perfectly, sliding tightly over her wrist. Nothing happened, no flare of magical fire or sparks, but he had to believe the item’s spell was activated, just like Javen said it would be.
Only now did it hit him, that the bracelet probably had been made for a child. Javen had warned him the magic was intended for someone much smaller than a full-grown man. Now he understood. It was protection for a little one, keeping the worst monsters at bay.
Perhaps Javen had it made, knowing that his service in the war would have made many enemies. Could his wife have crafted it, if she was a fae? And if so, how precious was the bracelet to Javen?
But it would keep the child safe, even if its use would anger the captain. Tobias, if he survived long enough, would find a justification for his actions.
“Go!” he told her. “Keep running. They won’t be able to find you now.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Never-ever?”
“Go!” he shouted again. “Keep running and you’ll be in the village soon.”
“With Miss Maye,” she replied.
“Yes, sure. I guess!” Tobias’s heart was thudding hard against his ribs. He had no idea how well the magic would work, if she was now completely invisible, nor what would happen if the Oathborn found him. “Go!”
Finally, she took off and started to run. The dying sunlight glinted on the silver bracelet.
Please,Tobias thought.Let it keep her safe. Let me have done at least this one small thing right.
Even if he was to die, now, or later, once he admitted he no longer had the bracelet. Even if he was demoted or sent to prison for defying the order to find Javen as quickly as possible. This child’s life—any child’s life—was worth those risks.
Tobias stood there, alone, in the forest. He reached down with a trembling hand to his radio. “Javen?” he called out, though the man had ignored every summons before. “Sir, are you—”
A sound crackled back, something like a hoarse shout. Cold sweat broke out on Tobias’s skin. Wherever the captain was, he was in as much trouble, if not more, than Tobias. He tried the radio again, and again, there was no answer.
Instead, nearby, Tobias heard voices… and these were not speaking Rhydonian.
Chapter forty-eight
Zari
In the fog, Zari soon lost track of how long she’d walked. She was sure the cliffs must be ahead. How far, she had no idea. Soon, the sandy shoreline turned into steadily larger stones half-sunk in mud. Her legs began to ache as she struggled to pull her feet out of mucky soil that squelched each time she lifted a foot. Sinkholes dotted the scrubby ground along with boulders, like a giant had played marbles across the terrain. Perhaps they were the moon pools.
Would she die here, in this cold, unfamiliar climate?
A stream appeared, then vanished under the rock. In the distance, a rumbling noise like thunder echoed. The roaring grew louder as the great cliffs came into view. They were an endless gray wall, soaring up toward the sky, massive and foreboding. From the top of the insurmountable cliffs, a colossal waterfall crashed down, its spray billowing out like a gauzy funeral shroud.
She’d seen waterfalls before, but none as wild, as majestic, as these. The silvery water roared as it cascaded down, a ceaseless cacophony of noise, and the air itself was filled with the mist it generated. They must be Thomasin Falls. Zari was sure of it. This cliff, then, bordered the edge of Rhydonia. She was so close to home, and yet, so far from it. Even if she could climb the cliffs, the surging waters and spray would make the stones impossibly slick.
Idly, she rubbed her neck where the mark the Queen had left her still tingled. Whatever magic it held, she had noticed no change in herself. Nor did she have any idea how she’d explain it, should she ever return to Rhydonia.
She froze for a moment.
If she ever returned.
If.
When had she started to think like that? She’d been so sure, when she made the deal with Tivre, that she’d be able to only spend a few days on the isles. Now, she couldn’t see a way of ever leaving. Even if she succeeded in finding the Crescent Blade, how were she and her father supposed to climb those cliffs?
A sudden crack of thunder—real thunder, not from the falls—snapped in the air. Shelter. She had to find shelter and wait out the storm. If she got soaked, there was no way she’d survive long enough to find the sword, or make a plan.
In the misty distance, she spotted a cave carved into the bottom of part of the cliffs, away from the falls.
