Page 34 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

Vareck

I came to with a groan, the world around me little more than a haze of gray and blinding light.

My senses filtered in slowly. Pain first. My head throbbed with an intensity that made it feel like someone had taken a chisel to my skull.

Again. And again. Every breath scraped down my throat like broken glass, sand clinging to my tongue and coating the inside of my mouth.

“Meera,” I rasped, my voice barely more than a whisper.

I blinked rapidly, trying to see through the grit crusted in my lashes. The last thing I remembered was her face—fearful, determined, fierce. And then the land shifted and swallowed her.

Now, where her coppery red hair had once shone like fire against the jewel-toned forest, there was only sand.

I forced myself to lift my head, pain screaming through every joint, but I had to see for myself. The twin suns of Eversus beat down on my back, their heat making my breaths ragged as my lungs shuddered with each inhale.

“Hey there, big guy.”

I turned my head slowly to see Sadie crouched beside me. Her head blocked out the red sun, making it possible to see her pinched expression. She looked exhausted but relieved, likely because we were both still alive.

Objectively, that was something.

Emotionally, it didn’t mean a damned thing.

“She’s gone,” I said, the words scraping like sandpaper up my throat.

Sadie nodded grimly. “Yep. Damon too. So at least they’ve got each other?”

She said it like a question, unsure if it was a comfort or a concern.

I let out a harsh breath. Yeah. I’m with you there.

That pompous prick is a giant pain in my ass, but if there’s one thing he’s good for, it’s staying alive.

I rolled, wincing when my swords dug into the muscle of my back.

My head was pounding with the weight of it all. “I shouldn’t have walked away.”

“Probably not,” Sadie snorted. “Not gonna claim it was the smartest plan you’ve ever had. But hey, could be worse.”

I turned my head just enough to glare at her. “Could be worse?”

“We could be dead,” she said with a shrug. “And if I know Meera—and I do—then her odds of surviving are probably better than ours at the moment.”

I wiped grit from my eyes and stared up at the twin suns. “Evorsus wants her.”

Sadie laughed dryly. “Yeah, I gathered that when a rock shot up from the ground to trip you right as we would have reached them.” I pressed my lips together. “How often do you reckon the land shifts like that?”

“What?”

“How hard did you hit your head?” I scowled at her tone. “I said, how often does the land shift?”

“I don’t know.”

“So helpful,” she muttered.

I scrubbed a hand down my sweat-slicked face. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone.”

“With that kind of thinking, it’s a surprise you haven’t ended up dead by now,” she snapped.

“Yes, she’s gone. She’s in Evorsus, the sort-of-sentient hell realm which low-key has a thing for her, but she’s not dead, Vareck.

And unless you think that delicate alabaster skin of hers can handle two suns, I’d say she’s better off over there than baking like bread out here with us. ”

I grunted in response, but Sadie kept going, undeterred. “Look, if we wait for the shift to happen again, maybe it’ll pull us back together.”

“It won’t work like that.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember Corvo talking about the Fold?”

“Yes. Time is weird, which we already gathered. Ley line convergence. Same on both sides. Blue flowers face north.”

“It’s more than being weird. Time moves differently between Evorsus and Eversus,” I said, forcing myself into a sitting position. “What’s hours here could be weeks there. Or vice versa.”

Sadie blinked. “Come again?”

“Your plan is flawed,” I told her. “It could be weeks before the land shifts here again. Longer, even. And if something comes hunting them in that time—which it will—they’ll be running, not waiting, as they should.”

I sighed. When we fell through a portal to the twin realms, I didn’t think it could get much worse.

Apparently, the universe thought otherwise.

“So what, we just keep moving? Toward the Fold?” Sadie rocked back on her haunches, crossing her tan arms over her chest.

“That’s what they are doing. And that is what we will do..”

Her eyebrows inched up. “I’m not opposed, but we don’t have any rations, and the walking will dehydrate us faster. All of them were with Meera and Damon.”

“Corvo,” I muttered.

Sadie threw her hands up. “How would he even know how to find us? We’re in the middle of a desert.”

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

My familiar popped up a second later, perched on a rock, blinking lazily like this was his afternoon nap spot.

“So, where’s the saucy redhead and the nephew?” he asked casually.

“Evorsus.” I spat its name like a curse. “The land shifted and separated us. Intentionally.”

“Intentionally?” Corvo blinked again. “Why are you lying on the ground? Did you hit your head?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Sadie cut in. “We were running. We would’ve made it if some rock hadn’t just sprouted up out of the damn ground and tripped him.”

Corvo hummed. “That’s . . . concerning.”

“No shit, Corvo.”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” he said. “It’s not my fault your lady love is trapped with the playboy prince. You don’t think he’d try anything, do you?”

I didn’t think. I lunged.

Pure instinct.

If not for Corvo’s feline reflexes, I would’ve had him by the throat. As it was, he leapt back just in time, ears flattened.

“Damon. Would. Not. Dare,” I growled.

Sadie raised her hands. “And Meera’s loyal. She might be unsure about the whole forever bond thing, but she’d never cheat. Besides, Damon’s not really her type. She likes the kind of guy you settle down with and have babies and all that.”

The silence that followed was loud.

She blinked. “What?”

Corvo and I stared at her.

I rubbed my jaw. “Good to know.”

“Well,” Corvo drawled, brushing imaginary dust off his leg with a paw. “You and Lady Love have been separated. Naturally, you want me to find her.”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “It’s like I know you or something.” Corvo flicked his tail. “But as much as I’d like to help, no can do. I’m only bound to you.”

“And I’m bound to her,” I said.

He paused, considering the implications.

“I know it’s a stretch, but with you being bound to me and me being bound to her, that has to amount to something where magic is concerned.

We tried a blood oath, and it didn’t work.

Now that I know we’re mates, it makes sense.

Only one bond can exist between beings. The stronger one supersedes everything else. ”

Corvo cocked his head. “Maybe ...”

He didn’t sound convinced. His golden eyes squinted in thought, then blinked slowly as if his brain had just buffered through a realization.

“Whatever was blocking us from recognizing each other before, it’s gone,” I said again, more firmly this time. “The bond snapped into place, whether Meera’s ready to accept it or not.”

Corvo sat upright, tail flicking. “You’re thinking if I’m tethered to you and you’re tethered to her, then by the transitive property of magical bullshit, I might be able to find her?”

“It’s worth a try.”

Sadie scoffed. “Yeah, or he ends up sniffing his own tail in circles.”

“I’m not a dog,” Corvo scoffed. “And as magnificent as I am, this bond isn’t a trail of enchanted perfume. If you're expecting me to sniff my way across realms, lower your expectations.”

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, fingers steepled. “Can you at least try?”

Corvo groaned, his tail flicking with indignation. “Try? Sure. But if my spirit unravels like a badly knit sweater, that’s on you. I wasn’t designed for directional magic.” He shot me a flat look. “I claw expensive things for entertainment and judge people—that’s my lane. I’m a cat, not a compass.”

“I thought you were a god,” I countered.

“Then the judgment remains, but the form of entertainment changes.”

“You’re my familiar,” I reminded him.

“Still doesn’t mean I signed up for trauma.”

“Corvo,” I warned.

“Fine, fine.” He stood up slowly, stretching with an exaggerated groan like he’d just risen from the longest nap in history. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

His form stilled. The fur along his back lifted slightly, and the air around him grew thick with static. His body vibrated with restrained magic. The gold of his eyes shifted to molten amber, glowing as they unfocused on the material world.

“I might be picking up something,” he said in a voice that was no longer casual. “It’s faint. Like a frayed wire.”

Sadie leaned in. “You mean like magical residue?”

Corvo didn’t answer. His entire body had gone eerily still.

I stood, my knees groaning from the movement. “Corvo?”

“Shhh.” He lifted one paw as if listening to a distant frequency. “Be right back.”

Then, without another word, his body vanished in a shimmer of displaced air.

Sadie blinked, startled. “Did he just?—”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice low. “I think he found something.”

We stood there, the air thick with dust and silence, both of us staring at the spot where Corvo had vanished.

“Should have asked him to bring us food and water first. And maybe an umbrella,” she said lightly, but it didn’t mask the concern in her voice. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

I shrugged, though the weight in my chest said I wasn’t sure. “He’s a cat. He always lands on his feet.”

She snorted. “That was terrible.”

“You’re just mad you didn’t say it first.”

Sadie gave a half-smile, but it didn’t last. Her gaze turned toward the horizon. “You really think he can find her?”

“I think if there’s any thread left to pull on, Corvo will find it.”

“And if he can’t?”

I didn’t answer right away.

Because if Corvo couldn’t find her, then I’d tear through both realms myself until I did.