Rhydian skirted around the bak’s flung-out arm, nearly tripping over its long claw, to join them. As the three circled the stairs’ edge, Isla warned, “We need to wedge something beneath the door. It’s warded. If it closes, it won’t let us out.”
“Warded?” Ameera whipped her head around to Isla. “Like the Gate?”
“Exactly like the Gate,” Isla said, her mind so concerned with all else, that she couldn’t draw the reason for Ameera’s paling features.
“Why would there be wards in a house?” She stepped back to observe the door, pulling it away from the wall to observe all its angles. Quickly, she found the scratched-in symbols over the metal knob. “Wards can only be cast by witches, right? Witches who haven’t been able to roam our continent for…decades, centuries? This house isn’t that old.”
Isla’s gut twisted.
Silence fell between them again, the air becoming thick, as they retreated and dragged their eyes around the space.
“Did you look around?” Ameera questioned, the fierce determination marking her a leader on her face again. “Make sure no one else was here?”
“I mean, I didn’t get far.” Isla shook her head. “I was only in here for a few minutes before the rogues showed up.”
Ice filled her veins.
In here…because she’d felt something calling to her.
As Ameera bolted up the stairs to ensure they were alone, and Rhydian went on to make another pass through the living room, dining room, and kitchen, Isla remained rooted to the spot. Her grip on the piece of the diadem, that she swore hummed in her palm, tightened.
“We would scent a witch, wouldn’t we?” Rhydian re-entered the living room, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. Though wolves were born with some innate immunity to certain magic, facing one of the spellcasters was no easy feat. “I’ve never met one, but they’re probably different.”
Isla opened and closed her mouth, unable to form an answer before Ameera bound back down the set of stairs. “It’s clear. No one’s here.”
Even with the news, Isla felt no relief.
Rhydian remained above ground, guarding the door, the house, and the last piece of the diadem, while the two warriors descended into the darkness.
“How did the bak even get in here?” Ameera asked from behind Isla as they carefully ambled down the stairs.
“I’m not sure yet,” Isla said, despite her sneaking suspicion lying a few yards away.
Once she’d reached the completely missing lower third of the flight, Isla leaped to the ground.
Ameera did the same, letting out the softest whistle. “You really did a number on the place.” She knocked away a damaged board. “Do you go looking for trouble or does it find you?”
“I was trying not to die, so conserving this place’s integrity wasn’t top of my list.” Isla pursed her lips, muttering, “And if you ask Kai, he’d argue the former.”
“Rogues, bak, and an assassin,” Ameera drawled, voice lowering to a whisper. Isla wondered if this small talk was a way for the general to abate any of her hesitations as they approached the tunnel’s stone-crusted mouth. “And you held your own. It’s a shame I won’t get to serve with you in the ranks.”
Isla tried to hide her frown at the reminder of the future she’d never have.
She made a hapless reach within herself for her wolf, the bond. Both of which stirred, but barely gave an answer. Her wolf, she understood, with that lingering sear in her veins. But her connection to Kai?
It had to be the distance.
If only she could tell him she was okay.
If he’d felt anything go wrong, noticed her drop away…
They came to a stop at the rubble-coated earth just before the entrance. Isla’s skin crawled. Even with the beauty of the crystal embedded in its walls—all there was to illuminate the cavern—something felt off. Forbidding.
That horrible smell tickled the back of her nose and hit Ameera at the same time. She scrunched her face. “What is that?”
Isla regretted the deep inhale she’d taken. “If the bak came through this, I—I think it might lead to the Wilds.”
Ameera straightened. “You think this is the path we’re looking for? That Callan found?”