Page 96 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
The ground barreled toward me as I contorted my body and rolled.
Thank the gods for Orion teaching me how to fall back when my youngling body was still flexible and malleable, because my legs were fucking useless as I tumbled onto the road. The rocks scratched at my clavicle and cheek. My right wrist bent at a strange angle and sent shooting pain through my entire body. Branches and leaves caught in my hair.
But as I stopped spinning right there in the middle of the road, out of breath and options, I stared up at the night sky and saw the morning star, barely peeking above the horizon.
The jagged rimmed horizon of the crater’s lip.
I laughed as the carriage creaked away and the horse flicked its tail, as if flipping me off in goodbye.
Careful not to jostle my wrist, I propped myself on my elbows. I was in a bare field, flat as my scratched palm for miles and miles. The light from the carriage flickered farther away from me. I sent a silent thank you to the man and horse who’d helped me unknowingly and wished them well.
I thanked the gods there was no other human around to witness me struggle to stand, my limbs still uncooperative and stinging. But I stood, alone in the field, with only the stars as my witness.
I looked back at the rim of the crater. The ground had been torn and molded into shreds, as if a great big hand had dug into it and ripped out the continent’s guts. The jagged cliffs on the lip were more menacing so up close, but I could spot some fissures between them.
Was that how the carriage had escaped? No, impossible.
But I saw no entry or exit, no tunnel and no platform.
Curiosity nipped at my tired mind, but I ignored the pull of the crater.
I’d risked so much to escape it, why in Lunara’s name was I drawn back to it?
Magic.Wickedmagic. There was no other explanation.
Turning my back to it was more difficult than I would have imagined, but turn I did, my gaze jumping from star to star as Orion’s message ran through my mind.
Two miles away from the crater’s rim.
South-west.
Follow the morning star.
My eyes fell upon a strange rock formation jutting out between a lone cluster of trees, right in the direction I needed to go.
That had to be the place.
Staggering, I started the trek, hoping the stars weren’t trying to trick me as well. Tonight, they looked foreign. As if they weren’t just watching, but warning.
I had to hope–they had never led me astray until then. Not when I looked up at them from my Aquila balcony, asking for guidance. Not when I got lost in the woods during my first hunting trips. And not when I screamed at them after Grandpa Constantine’s death.
They had simply watched me in cold detachment, always present, never replying.
I hadn’t yet roared at the sky after my father’s passing. I still didn’t think I deserved to let my grief free–not until I found his killer.
The rim of the crater seemed to mock me as I caught glimpses of it from the corner of my eyes. It was so massive, I couldn’t ignore it.
Or maybe there was a deeper thread that kept me tethered to it.
I shook my head.
The Protectorate was waiting for me.
We’ll come for you.
In eerie silence, I kept going, over parched dirt, dry rocks, and plants that snapped underneath my boots. Curious thatthere were no night bugs glowing or clicking. Perhaps they were scared of the crater, too.
The Protectorate party should have seen me by now. Unless they were waiting on the other side of the rock, careful of the Blood Brotherhood scouts which surely patrolled the rim of the crater.
