Page 29 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
EVIE
“ I know you’re upset with me, but this is alarming.” Adara stood in the center of the grove Leesa had directed us to, back straight as a pole. We’d snuck out before dawn had filtered through the leaves, reeking of Goose’s special hiding concoction and making sure the guards didn’t see us. “I said I exaggerated.”
“Admitting you went overboard in our last training session and apologizing are two very different things,” I called down from the trees.
“Fine.” Adara ground her teeth so hard, I heard her through the chirp of the birds and the sway of the leaves. “I’m sorry.”
“Much appreciated. But I didn’t want to come here to get revenge.”
“I can’t guard you if I can’t see you.”
“You also can’t catch me. This is a training lesson, isn’t it?”
This wasn’t some hide and seek game I wanted to win. Adara thought I was defenseless. In some ways, she was right.
I couldn’t take her–or a fighter as strong and fast as her–in hand to hand combat. But I could use my environment to my advantage. That was my skill.
“Get your weapon out,” I called down, crouching on a branch without a sound. The tree’s bark was smooth and flecked with beige dots, so different than the hard, flaky trunks back in the mountains.
Adara sighed in annoyance, but armed herself.
Good. My bare feet molded to the branches as I snuck from tree to tree, rustling no leaves in my wake. The vines, thick and meaty and blooming, helped me move faster. Or maybe it was Zandyr’s blood on the armor quickening my moves; I wore it more often than I needed to. It had almost turned into a compulsion, I woke up and my hands instinctively went for the black leather.
I told myself it was because I was more of a target without him here. But I knew that was a lie.
Behind the large leaves, I was almost invisible. A bird perched on the branch next to me and didn’t even notice the human hiding less than a foot away.
Adara’s shoulders tensed, gaze slashing from one tree to the next.
She didn’t see me.
I’d insisted on coming into this small grove stubbornly growing on top of the eastern hill, not only to prove–to myself or Adara, I still didn’t know–that I wasn’t totally vulnerable.
A restlessness had settled inside of me since the night Zandyr had left.
I still couldn’t sleep, I picked at my food for the first time in my life. Worst of all, I couldn’t concentrate properly during my lessons with Allie. After the last encounter with Valuta, three long days ago, the feeling of unease had only intensified.
The truth itched on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, but I could only ask Zandyr about it.
Until he came back, I had to control myself.
What better way to get rid of this tension than pretending I was in mortal danger?
With my senses on alert and tracking Adara, my mind couldn’t focus on anything else.
I peered down from a spot right above her. My eyes trailed the closest vine, hanging lazily from the branch next to me, small curls of lichen hanging from it.
Perfect.
I gripped the vine with my right hand and kicked the tree trunk with my heel. The vibration coursed through the bark, startling the birds and capturing Adara’s attention. Before her head whipped up, I swung from the vine in a wide arch. I let go and dropped to the ground right behind her, the tip of my switchblade resting against the back of her ear.
I’d been aiming for her throat, but Adara was too tall for me.
She stilled. Then her deep chuckle rang out through the grove. “Clever.”
“I may not have the kind of power you’re all used to,” I said, triumph roaring through my veins. “But I’m not powerless.”
“No, you are not,” she said after a few moments. “Yet I stand by what I said. Blood Brotherhood only knows one kind of power. The physical one.”
“Grandpa Constantine was once the most powerful man in all of Malhaven, and he didn’t have to fight anyone to prove it.” Because very few had the courage to challenge him. “Now let’s train.”
As I flicked the switchblade closed and put my shoes back on, a rumble resounded from the south.
I rose slowly. Cautiously.
“The gates,” Adara said.
Before she’d finished speaking, I was already scaling back up the trees, Adara’s impressed whistle ghosting after me.
I reached the top, head barely peeking above the leaves. It was enough to see the gates open and a dark, shadowy figure riding into Phoenix Peak, people kneeling in his wake.
The blood in the vials on my armor whirled out of control, as if sensing their master had returned. A shiver raced down my spine, hard and fast.
Zandyr was back.
The Dragon was in Phoenix Peak once more.
The question I’d been swallowing for the past few days threatened to spill past my lips.
I dropped back to the ground, nodding at Adara. “Where does Zandyr live?”