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The recollectionof their conversation had Kallie catching her breath. Could it be that Rian had given her a hint? That he could be just as cryptic as she? Or was that wishful thinking?

Either way, right or wrong, she found herself heading east.

When she came across the large cluster of sequoias among the thin pine trees, she followed.

In the center stood the largest one, and the back of her neck prickled. It must have been the oldest tree in the forest, based on how wide the trunk was. The base was as wide as the main cobblestone street that cut through the village near the castle in Ardentol. Perhaps even wider.Her gaze ran up its trunk, where thousands of thick branches sprung. Walking along the edge of the trunk, she was careful to step over its wide roots.The bark was rough against her skin as she ran her hand across it and circled the tree. Then, halfway around the trunk, a hole the size of a tall child had been carved out of the tree. Kallie ran her palm across the edge of the hole. The edges were smooth, as if they had been there for decades. Had Rian found this place? Had he been the one to cut the hole?

When she peered inside, she found a set of stairs leading beneath the ground. A warm glow pulsed wherever the stairs ended.

Kallie chuckled. Of course, Rian would go somewhere to hide so that none of the other ladies could find him before she did.

Somewhere deep in the woods behind her, a crack of a twig sounded.

Better now than never, she thought as a victorious smile graced her lips.

After taking a deep breath, she ducked under the small entrance and descended the steps.

Chapter45

GRAESON

Graeson’s breathcaught in his throat, his brows scrunched together as he leaned against one of the enormous sequoias.

Despite Graeson’s outburst a couple of nights ago, the Tetrians had decided to stay. Medenia, with a strong chin and fierce stare, said they did not turn their backs on their friends. To which Ellie had added, “Even if they are stupid fools who are being led with their dicks instead of their brains.”

Graeson had ignored her. This wasn’t about that. It never was. Kalisandre would get her freedom.

So now Armen, Moris, and Graeson were in the woods, hidden among the shadows as women with flimsy bows and arrows chased after men like a fox would chase a rabbit. Graeson had been trailing after Kalisandre for a while. Finding her was easy. It was convincing her to leave that would be the challenge.

He hadn’t expected Kalisandre to participate in such a ridiculous event willingly. But then again, if it meant she was one step closer to getting the power she wanted, Graeson supposed she would do anything.

But he definitely hadn’t expected her to walk inside of a tree.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, praying to the gods that Kalisandre would turn around, that he wouldn’t have to go after her. That he wouldn’t have to follow her. Graeson, however, had not been in the good graces of the high gods for a while, had he?

With a long exhale, he pushed himself from the tree and headed toward the sequoia. Upon approaching, he eyed the small entrance in disgust and swallowed the lump in his throat. Graeson didn’t fear much. To most, Graeson appeared fearless. His ability to close off his emotions helped him fight without restraint and mercy. While he did not enjoy the act of killing, the ability to separate his emotions prevented him from being paralyzed by indecision. Of course, it did not stop the onslaught of regret that followed. The need to act, however, was often more pressing than the need to think.

Sometimes, anyway.

Either way, shutting off his emotions never eliminated his fear of small spaces. He supposed there were some things he couldn’t stop from feeling. And perhaps his claustrophobia never went away because the god within him hated small spaces, too. Perhaps, when Graeson was in a confined space, the monster within was reminded that he was limited to this human body, to this mortal world.

Still, Graeson reached inward and cracked open the door where he kept the god locked up. A sheet of ice enveloped him as a slim strand of the god slithered out. Graeson did not care for the sensation, but he called upon it, nevertheless. Inch by inch, the god crawled out as a part of Graeson was pulled into the god’s cage. This was the price Graeson had to pay. A piece for a piece.

And for Kalisandre, he was willing to do anything.

He crawled through the hole in the sequoia.

* * *

The space was even morecramped than Graeson had expected. Standing straight wasn’t an option, so he crouched, awkwardly climbing down the steps. Whoever had carved this place out of the tree had not intended it to be a place for adults to access. It was as if a child had found the tree long ago and carved their way through the bark, creating a place to hide from others.

Little humans do like to hide, don’t they?the god whispered in the part of Graeson’s mind that they now shared.

Graeson, still conscious, groaned. His mind was crowded as the god fought for more control. When he shared the space during a fight, Graeson was distracted by the activity, but now there was nothing but a narrow walk space to occupy his mind. He hadn’t lost complete control since he was a child, and he would not do so. Not when so much was at stake. As long as Graeson remained level-headed, the god could not slither its way out.

A light flickered at the bottom of the stairs, and Graeson could make out Kalisandre’s shadow that was thrown along the floor at the base of the stairs.

He stopped walking and inhaled. When he exhaled, regret filled his senses as the air bounced back off the carved-out walls and warmed his face. His muscles strained as he tried to regain control of his limbs. The stairwell was too narrow, too cramped. Too warm.