Page 84 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

Buttercup gave a tentative chirp and then flew out, their wings lightly grazing Reyna’s face in what must have been thanks.

“We need to get the others,” she whispered.

The finch flew back to Jagger as if to say, ‘Go on, I’ve got him.’

Moving quickly, no clue what was happening below, Reyna darted over to the next pod. This time she spied the telltale remnant of dust and kept her mouth and nose covered by pulling up the neck of her shirt as she sawed away a section of the prison. When its inhabitant was revealed, her heart leapt in relief.

Bast.

Unlike Jagger and Buttercup, who came to as if they’d just woken from sleep, Sebastian was a flurry of flailing limbs. He threw himself at her, catching her off guard as he fought tooth and nail to defend himself. It was no novice reaction, either. His moves were calculated, aimed at the parts of her body that would cause the most damage.

“I will not fail now. You will not keep me from knowing the sweet taste of vengeance, you pathetic—”

“Peace, Bast. It’s me. It’s Rey—Shadow,” she corrected, realizing he might not be familiar with her true name.

He froze, his expression comical as he drew back. There was a flash of something in his eyes, a lightning-quick decision being made before his expression settled back into its normal courtly veneer. “Where the hell have you been?”

“That’s how you thank your rescuer?”

“What did you do with Ronan?”

“He’s below, dealing with some rather aggressive vegetation. Come on, let’s free the others, and you can see for yourself that your friend is hale and whole.”

“Shadow.” He stopped her with a hand on the shoulder as she made to turn away.

“Hmm?”

“Sorry for that.” He gestured sheepishly at her cheek, where a trickle of warm blood made its way to her jaw. She’d barely registered the injury until he pointed it out.

“Never apologize for protecting yourself, Sebastian. Sometimes the only hero you can count on is yourself. There may come a day when Ronan and I can’t be there to save you.”

Her words caused another flash in the back of his gray gaze. An understanding she wouldn’t have expected given his rakish persona. Since this was hardly the time or the place to ask him about it, she nudged him with her elbow and added, “Thankfully today is not that day, so what do you say? Ready to go play hero for the others?”

* * *

Ronan

“Give up already,you demented fucking weed!”

He waved the torch, buying himself and Reyna a few more precious seconds, but his deterrent wasn’t going to last much longer. He might be able to use his gift to sustain the flame, but he couldn’t do much about salvaging the wood.

Ronan supposed he could make a second torch, but that would require him to split his attention, and he was already dangerously surrounded. Without the aid of Reyna’s dagger to help cut them down, the flesh-eating pests had swelled in number.

Until now, the damned rodents they’d faced off with in Bael had been the most shameful loss he’d ever suffered, but he was starting to fear ‘carnivorous vine’ would soon replace lajhár in the top spot.

If this is your work, you really have a sick fucking sense of humor, you know that?

Perhaps taunting the Mother wasn’t the smartest idea, but this attack didn’t have the stink of Erebos on it. That arsehole tended to be a little more direct when sending a monster after them. And perhaps even more telling, so far as Ronan could tell, these pesky plants—while undeniably the creation of a madman—lacked Erebos’s signature shadowmelding ability.

He let out a savage hiss as his torch began to sputter, the vines growing more aggressive as the flames died down. Ronan debated tossing it altogether when something—several somethings—crashed through the trees above him.

“Heads up!”

Ronan would have laughed at Reyna’s wholly unnecessary shout punctuated by Bast’s high-pitched screams if not for the fact that it heralded their safe return. They dropped to the ground in a shower of leaves and limbs, some landing more gracefully than others.

The vines, Ronan had quickly realized, didn’t react to sound so much as movement. It wasn’t until the others displaced the air that the deadly tendrils seemed to realize they had company.

Sebastian let out a colorful curse as he rebounded from his undignified sprawl and popped up to his feet. Brushing away a few lingering twigs and tenacious leaves, he gave Ronan a wide grin. “Miss me?”

---