Page 27

Thane smiled, but when he looked down the pit in his stomach grew. The cart crashed with a boom, splintering on rough boulders below. They were seconds away from the same fate. Thane had never attempted to fly before, but his magic rose to his call, and it felt strange to say it, but he whispered, “I’d say we’re floating,” he paused thinking of how absurd it was, “and we’re still in Palenor.” He pressed one palm flat against her back and the other, he cupped her behind. “Hold on.” A strong whoosh of wind brought them back up onto sturdy ground, and he moved away from the cliff’s edge, holding her tight. He took in a few steadying breaths, thanking the Maker to be alive and to have the maiden he loved more than all the stars in the sky in his arms. He gently rubbed Layala’s back, basking in what it was like to feel the warmth of her embrace again. After a couple moments ticked by and she kept her vice-like hold, he said, “You can open your eyes now.”

She pulled away enough to look him in the face. Her fingers dug into him with frantic strength. “Thane,” she whispered and then her lips crashed into his. Frenzied and hungry, claiming a long-lost prize. He smiled against her lips, laughter almost bubbling up in his throat. It was euphoric. Maker above, he’d missed her. He’d imagined this moment for weeks now, and before that, for much of his life. And she was here, and she loved him. His mate, the beautiful maiden of his dreams.

With her thighs still tightly hooked around his torso, she took his face in her hands and pulled back, cheeks glistening. “It’s really you. You’re here. You’re alive.”

“It’s really me.”

Tears cascaded down her cheeks and she choked on a sob even though she was grinning from ear to ear. “I was terrified I lost you. I tried to stop her. I tried to get to you—”

Thane cut her off with a kiss, willing her to feel the ocean depths of how much he loved her. None of it was important; the only thing that mattered was that she was safe, and they were together. “I know.”

“But… What happened? Varlett slammed me into a tree, and I hit my head. I tried to escape,” she gulped in air, “to find you.” Her voice was still rushed, fraught.

“Laya,” he said calmly, brushing his fingers over her cheek, wiping her tears. “I love you. And I am here now.”

A loud throat clearing made them both turn their heads. Leif tapped one boot on the ground. “Uh, I hate to break up the reunion, but it won’t be long before they come looking this way. Also, if you two could refrain from jumping off cliffs in the future that would be great. Even if you knew you could fly, I didn’t.” He put a hand to his chest. “I threw up a little.”

Thane chuckled. “I didn’t know. But I wasn’t going to let her die.”

“I asked you not to leave me,” Layala said, and shot him a glare.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Leif said, “I am sorry. Trust I won’t make a mistake like that again.”

Layala slid down Thane’s body to the ground and gripped his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He brought her knuckles to his lips and gently kissed them. “He’s right. My father saw me. They’ll be on their way here with a formidable force, no doubt.”

Taking off, they headed west toward the city of Doonafell. A place they fought so fiercely to protect from the enemy his father now freely rode with. He never quite understood how his father made a deal with Mathekis and yet the pale ones still attacked at regular intervals. Was that what his father wanted? Wouldn’t he have made a deal to stop the attacks? Or maybe they would only stop if he delivered Layala to Mathekis. Or did Tenebris want the pale ones to attack Palenor so that he could keep the hold on his power? One thing Tenebris had over the people was that he protected them, and he was great at it. That earned trust and allegiance.

Even Brunard taunted him about his father’s ability to keep them at bay, but once Thane was in power, they overran a major elven city and killed hundreds. They’d never been capable of that before, or at least that’s what he believed. He thought it was his own incompetence or that they pushed harder now that they knew where Layala was. Perhaps it was a combination of everything. Exactly how far did the depths of his father’s betrayal of this kingdom go?

Once they drew closer to the city, Thane made sure to stick close to the well-beaten paths to avoid being tracked. He squeezed Layala’s hand every once in a while, and looked over at her lovely face to reassure himself she was there and that this wasn’t some delusion of his broken mind. The tangles in her usually shiny raven-wing hair, smudges of dirt on her cheeks, and her chapped, scabbed lips ignited a spark of anger. The fiery hatred he held for his father burned once more.

They quietly made their way around the outside stone wall of Doonafell where elves stacked stone on stone, slapping on globs of mud to repair the holes. The workers didn’t bother to look up as the trio jogged by.

The white-stone mage’s tower came into view. The ivy and climbing vines that overtook much of the weatherworn stone appeared even greener and thicker than the last time he’d seen it, on account of the start of the autumn rains.

“Could we stop here and rest?” Layala panted. “I haven’t seen anyone following us,” she dragged in another breath, “and maybe Atarah could hide us.”

Thane slowed to a halt, dragging his gaze over her. He was so used to her being able to run like wild horses. This showed how she was treated. In fact, the more he really analyzed her, he was surprised she wasn’t thinner and more sallow. Her breasts, waist, and hips were smaller, but he would never have noticed if he hadn’t thoroughly inspected her form on many occasions before. “We can’t stop. It will put you in danger when my father looks here. Get on my back.”

Without her usual do-it-herself attitude, she nodded. He bent his knees and she jumped onto him, latching her body around his. What a change from the elf he’d first met. She would have never willingly accepted his help in this way, at least not without a fight.

They arrived in Fanvore Wood, and after climbing over fallen logs and through thick vines and dodging snakes and critters, they found the designated gathering spot: a group of ruined statues of four old gods, standing at least nine feet tall. Thane didn’t know their names or what they were said to be gods of; they’d been lost to history but three were male, one holding a broken sword at his side and another large ax raised above his head. His long hair was carved in waves to his chest. His chin and nose had been broken off at some point but the fierceness in those stone eyes made him ponder about who he might have been.

The second male stood tall and erect, with his hands tucked behind his back. A smirk played at his lips, as if he knew something everyone else did not. The flowing cape was worn and chipped, and the sword pommel at his hip was intricate. The blade itself was broken like the other. It was a shame someone hadn’t taken care of these rather than let them go to ruin.

The third statue’s head was crumbled, and body so weathered it was difficult to make out more than the trident in his hand and the belt holding up his trousers. The pillar beside him was the only one left standing among fallen piles of boulders covered in foliage and debris.

“These are—beautiful,” Layala said and brushed her bandaged hand over the goddesses’ moss-covered knee. “Why didn’t you take me here before?” It was the female any who saw marveled at. Hers was the most well-preserved. She sat on a throne, with deep carvings of snakes behind her and twisted around down her arms. A starburst behind her head almost looked like she wore a headpiece, her legs crossed, chin raised, long hair carved as if flowing in the wind. A deep vee neck down to her navel, revealed full, round breasts. This goddess was power and allure. He believed if she were real, he would no doubt kneel. There were said to be other statues scattered throughout Adalon but he’d never seen them.

Thane smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think about it and it’s pretty far from where we camped.”

“Who are they?”

“From the old world,” Leif said. “My Nana told me stories about the old gods that her gran told her. This used to be a sanctum, I think. Not much left of it. Many would travel from all over to see this place.”

The group of Ravens, silent as a graveyard, emerged from the shadows like wraiths. Thane’s eye was immediately drawn to the pair with their arms slung over helpers. They wore fresh clothes, but their hair was dirty. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Piper. Fennan.” In a few strides he was before them and he wanted nothing more than to squeeze them both in bone-cruising hugs but with Piper’s bruised cheeks shining with healing salve, he resisted. She eased out of the grasp of the Raven holding her and pressed her head against Thane’s chest. Thane gently hugged her, careful not to use too much pressure. Fennan’s right arm was wrapped in a sling, but he walked over with ease to embrace his friend. “Get over here, Fightbringer,” Fennan said. She smiled and joined in the group hug.

“It’s so good to see you both.” Thane grinned. He wanted to be angry with what they’d been put through, but relief dominated everything else. His best friends were alive.