Page 188 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
With a quick nod indicating we could continue forward, Rhyan moved ahead, leading the way. This was a mage-made path that had been created over time, and used for patrol. But it ended abruptly and would force whoever was here to stop walking and start climbing—exposing them to the soturi at the top.
When we reached the edge of the path, we traveled again, landing higher on another ledge, and higher until we were as high as we could go without being in the center of the mountaintop, the center where the seraphim dwelled.
Down the long and winding pass of Gryphon’s Mount was Glemaria’s fortress, where Rhyan had grown up. Within it was a smaller keep called Sea Tower; we had a Sea Tower in Bamaria, too. The main keep was made of thick stone walls and turrets. Simplistic in design, it was known as Seathorne.
Somewhere in there was Rhyan’s old bedroom, the place where he’d wished for his own gryphon. The place where he’d grown up.
My heart panged.
But in that moment, three gryphons soared over Seathorne, their screeching calls roaring over the wind as they formed a row and flew right over our heads.
Rhyan hugged me to him, one eyebrow furrowed with worry, as we tried to remain unseen beneath our hoods. “I feel strange.”
“How so?”
“Like I’m about to travel, or like I already am traveling, but my body’s still here.”
I ran my palm over his forehead. “Maybe you should sit down?”
He nodded shakily; his expression haunted. “No. Let’s just get this done. I don’t want to be here any longer than we need to, and we still need to find our way west to the Allurian Pass.”
“Just take a breath,” I said, holding his gaze.
He peered ahead, silent, his nostrils flaring as his eyes roved around the mountaintop.
Six soturi were standing guard.
Rhyan cursed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Dario’s here,” Rhyan said, his voice heavy.
“Your friend?”
His jaw tightened. “Used to be. Before I left.” He stared at his boots, shaking his head. “I can’t…I can’t kill him. I already killed one friend. Killed.... Shit. I can’t kill him, even if he wants me dead now.” He looked ready to panic again.
“Then don’t,” I said. “You’re not killing anyone else tonight.”
“Lyr, we can’t decide that for sure, no matter how much I want it to be true. Battle is battle. Death happens. He may very well have orders to kill me.”
I took his face in my hands. “No, he doesn’t. Remember, your father wants you alive. And I don’t believe he could kill you if he was your friend.”
“You don’t know what I did to him. Things change.”
And seeing myself kill Haleika, I knew he was right.
I swept my fingers over his eyebrow. “You’ll work it out. For now, we just need to knock them unconscious before they see us. You know how to do that. Pretend it’s a habibellum.”
Rhyan continued watching me, his breath uneven.
“Look at me,” I demanded. “You’ve got this. Time for you to get out of your head. It’s dark, you have the element of surprise in your favor. You’ve taken down five soturi at once, all while bound. Rhyan, you’re the strongest soturion I know—the most skilled. You can do this, and I’ll be right there with you.”
He nodded again but didn’t look fully convinced. He knew these men. It was different, I understood that. “We have to be quick so they remain silent. If one screams, they’ll alert the others.”
I looked up, eyeing the shadowy outlines of their cloaks, blending in and out of the trees on top of the cliff. “Which one is Dario?” I asked.
Rhyan pointed to a soturion at the edge. Keen eyes, lined in black with thick lashes, watched the cliff. His skin was slightly darker than Rhyan’s though still pale by Bamarian standards. Thick dark curls fell to his shoulders, the front pieces braided back with silver beads threaded into the knots. Even through his armor and cloak, his build was impressive. I had a feeling back in the day, he and Rhyan were evenly matched at their academy.
