Page 68 of Between Soul and Vessel
When we were out of the river, Lyra crawled to Harper’s side. Her small fingers held Harper’s face as she knelt over top of her, small, strained whimpers coming from the back of her throat. Her tears plipped, falling on Harper’s unresponsive face.
I placed a reassuring hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “She’ll be alright.”
She turned toward me, gave me a nod, then wiped her tears in the crook of her arm.
“You were so brave to call for help. I’m proud of you, Lyra,” I spoke softly, and her eyes grew cloudy once more. “Hopefully, we’ll get to hear more of that voice someday.”
Her hand fell over mine, clutching it in thanks.
I was reminded of when I had found her, barely alive, on the floor of a tent in one of the mortal king’s training barracks. Her body had been laden with bruises and wounds—both new and old. Looking at her, I had thought she was not long for the Living Realm. I still remembered the way her weak hand had reached for me—as if her soulunderstood I was Death, and that I could make her suffering end. I had seen thousands of mortals die before, but in that moment, something came over me—perhaps it was because of Sage and the way she cherished the living. Before I knew what I was doing, I had picked Lyra up and taken her to Ezra.
Removing my hand from Lyra’s shoulder, shadows swarmed into my palm, conjuring two towels and a set of clothes. I handed them to Lyra. She placed them beside her, used one towel to cover Harper, and then proceeded to wrap herself in the second.
When you lived as long as we immortals did, nudity didn’t bother us. It was our natural state, after all. But mortals were modest creatures.
Turning my attention to Kaleb, my shadows weaved a third towel, and they placed it over top of him.
As I sauntered over to Folkoln and Saphira, my umbra swirled around me—dressing me in a pair of leather pants, a simple black tunic, and a set of black boots. Black and silver rings wrapped around my fingers, Sage’s white feather weaving into my hair.
“We’re still missing a few,” Folkoln said, black eyes scanning the river as I stepped beside him.
“We’ll find them,” I stated. “Can you sense anything?”
“No, but for all I know, the river could be interfering with things. All I can sense are the emotions rolling off of you three. Which, other than the small one’s sadness and fear, are relatively bland.” He rolled his neck, looking at Saphira and giving her a lopsided grin. “How’s that tailtreating you, sis?”
“Fuck off,” she snarled, and crafted a long black dress that reached down to the stone ground, its neckline a plunging v cut. Beneath the silk fabric, her tail twitched from side to side.
Folkoln leaned back, eyeing it. “Nice try, but it’s definitely still there. I wonder if it’s going to be permanent?” He tapped his chin.
“Do you know whatwillbe permanent?” Saphira snarled as she shot Folkoln a look so deadly that I could feel the daggers pierce him when it landed. “The imprint of my heel, stamped on your face.”
Folkoln inhaled, and when he exhaled, smoke curled from his nose. He groaned in ecstasy, “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”
“You emotion-sucking leech,” Saphira hissed in disgust.
“Would you two shut the fuck up?” I growled at my inferior siblings, pinning them both with my gaze. I looked back to the river. “I’m trying to decide what to do.”
They grew silent.
Saphira stepped around Folkoln, toward me. “If I may . . .”
“You may not,” I cut her off, my face shifting to hers. My anger was leashed, but my words had bite as I spoke between clenched teeth, “Your tongue speaks nothing but lies and treachery. I will not have it poison my thoughts.”
“Understood,” she said coldly before she spun on her heel and headed down the river, clipping a thunderous pace.
Good.That should get rid of her, at least for a little while.
I could only hope she kept going and didn’t turn around—one less soul to concern myself with.
Folkoln opened his mouth to say something, but I shot him a look that made my intentions clear—I was not in the mood to discuss anything that had to do with Saphira.
Proving he had half a brain cell, he shifted directions. “So . . . what’s the plan? How are we going to find the others?”
“Tunnel makes it pretty clear. We have two options. Go the way Saphira went or head upstream,” I answered, mulling over what made the most sense. “Whichever direction we go, we should be doing sweeps of the water.” I jerked my chin to the river. “They could still be down there.”
Folkoln glanced in the indicated direction. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, then, “We could split into two groups. One group goes downstream, the other goes upstream. We’d cover more ground that way.”
I shook my head. “Splitting up is counterproductive if our goal is to get the group together. Besides, we know nothing about these lands and what lurks in them. It’s better if we stick together.”
