Page 35 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

Meera

The air was thick. Not just warm, but wet and viscous, like it was trying to seep through my skin and slow every breath.

It clung to my clothes, to my hair, to my thoughts.

Damon paced ten feet away, checking the perimeter for the third time in as many minutes.

I sat on a patch of cracked earth beneath what used to be a tree—now just brittle limbs and peeling bark.

Useless for coverage. Perfect for the vibe.

“We need to figure out our next move,” I said aloud, mostly to myself.

Damon didn’t respond. No surprise. “We need a plan,” I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Something better than ‘stand here and hope the universe pities us.’”

“Yes, because that’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” he replied blithely. “Did it escape your notice that the realms separated you intentionally? That rock that popped up in front of Vareck wasn’t a coincidence.”

“No, it didn’t. Rudeness. I’m just focusing on what I can control: our next move.” I held both hands up in surrender. “And as for your attitude, usually your plans involve sitting still and waiting for something bad to happen?—”

“I’m deliberative and prefer not to make rash decisions?—”

“But in this case I think we should stay put,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Find shelter, set up some kind of marker. If the land shifts again and they’re close enough, maybe we’ll end up in the same realm. It’s a risk, but?—”

“You’re assuming they’ll stay in place too.”

“I’m assuming they’re smart enough not to wander off.”

Damon gave me a look. “Sadie? Stay put?”

I sighed. “She’s with Vareck. He knows ... things.”

Damon snorted. “Yeah, he knows jack all about the twin hells. That plan isn’t going to work.”

My brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

He crouched and drew two rough circles in the dirt. “Evorsus and Eversus don’t just swap positions on command. The time streams move at different rates. Hours here might be days there—or the reverse. Waiting here, hoping we sync up again? We could be stuck for weeks, months. Maybe forever.”

I folded my arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“We stick with the original plan and head to the place where the realms converge naturally; the Fold.” He pointed in a direction, though I had no idea which way it was going.

I didn’t see any blue flowers nearby. “That’s where the portal is supposed to be anyway.

If they head there and we head there, it’s our best shot at reconnecting. ”

“Sure, but there’s another problem.” Nudging the backpacks with my boot, I took a breath that stuttered, hating what I was about to say. “We don’t know how long it’ll take, and we aren’t going to make it long without food and water. Everything is with us, but Corvo can’t bring us more.”

He nodded grimly. “I know. We have to ration carefully.”

The air shimmered beside us.

I turned just in time to see a flick of movement, light bending, and then, standing on a rock like he hadn’t just crossed between realms, was Corvo.

“You’re here!” I threw my arms around him and nuzzled his furry self against my chest. Corvo purred loudly, arching his paws to make biscuits against me.

“Now this is the kind of welcome I deserve. All you’re missing is tuna.”

Damon rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “Seriously? Do you wait for dramatic moments just to make an entrance?”

“Only when the dialogue's this bad,” Corvo replied, hopping down and giving himself a shake. “Honestly, I expected more from you two.”

I knelt down to give him scratches behind his giant ears. “How did you find us?”

He continued to purr loudly, clearly pleased. “The bond.”

“But you've never been able to track me like this before,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Or could you? Please don’t tell me you could have intervened when I got kidnapped by brownies.”

Corvo’s tail swished like a banner of irritation. “Let’s be clear. I don’t lower myself to petty mortal struggles unless I absolutely have to. I’m only here because I’m V’s familiar and if he dies, I die. This is self-preservation.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh is that it?” I lowered my hand to stop petting him and Corvo narrowed his eyes.

“I may have tried and failed to look for you when you were kidnapped. Then I got hungry and stopped by Irene’s. Running into you was weird luck—for you. I lost third dinner that night because Irene was too busy bitching at her minions to feed me.”

I smirked and returned to petting him. “I think you like me.”

“I’m allowed complexity,” he sniffed. “I’m bonded to Vareck. I just happen to tolerate you.”

Damon muttered, “That’s how all his compliments sound. You get used to it.”

Corvo gave him a sideways glare, then looked back at me. “Besides, tolerating you has benefits. You keep my idiot warrior emotionally upright and you occasionally feed me. That earns you ... mild favoritism.”

I blinked. “Is that your version of a thank you?”

“Don’t push it.”

I grinned anyway. “So, why now? Why can you find me all of a sudden?”

“Well, now I want to. That's probably the difference.” His eyes gleamed. “And I’m just that good.”

I crossed my arms. “Corvo.”

“Fine.” Corvo rolled his eyes. “The bond changed. Whatever was blocking your mate bond seems to have lifted and now I can sense you through him.”

I frowned. “But we haven’t completed the bond?” I said, more to myself than him.

He nodded once. “Yeah well, the horizontal tango did something because you’re connected now, which means we are too.” He cocked his head, like a thought occurred to him. “I wonder if you die, will I die too? Oh fuck. Having one meat sack to keep alive was hard enough.”

I went still.

Corvo blinked slowly and shrugged in a very human-like manner. “Who knows? Let’s all try not to die and not find out. Shall we?”

“About that,” Damon said. “Our best bet of staying alive is getting to the Fold. But we’re going to run low on supplies depending on how long it takes. Can you pop in frequently to bring us stock, and to let us know where Sadie and Vareck are?”

“Ugh,” Corvo groaned. “Corvo do this. Corvo find that. Corvo keep my mate alive. I’ll have you know I expect snacks in return. And pets. There better be catnip crusted halibut in my dish when you get back to the castle. All this do-gooder-ing is exhausting.”

“When have I not fed you, hmm? Ever since?—”

“We don’t need to go spilling secrets now, Damon.” Corvo’s eyes flashed, and he whipped his tail around. Damon just hummed in return.

Ignoring whatever was happening between them, I scratched under his chin. “Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

I looked to Damon. “Problem solved, it would seem.”

He shrugged. “Slightly better than starving to death.”

“Of course it is,” Corvo deadpanned. “Start walking that way,” he flicked his tail in the direction Damon had motioned to earlier. “Follow the blue flowers. I’ll be back in a few?—”

“Wait! Are Vareck and Sadie okay?”

“Alive,” Corvo said, then paused. “Sand-scorched. Possibly concussed. Emotionally dysregulated. But yes, fine.”

I swallowed and nodded. “And they know we’re okay?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I was just about to deliver the good news when I heard you two and thought, what’s a little detour?”

Damon took a backpack and set it down near Corvo. “They’ll need rations. And water.”

Corvo wiggled his whiskers and shook his head. “Keep it. It means I get to check on you less. I’ll bring them their own. Saves me all this back-and-forth nonsense.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Can you deliver a message to Vareck for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Corvo,” I all but whined, and he winced.

“Just tell him that I’m sorry about before.

That I ...” What was I going to say? That I’m sure now?

That I don’t have doubts? That while I was still scared, Evorsus was messing with me, and my emotions were amplified and I didn’t feel like myself?

There were so many things that needed to be said. “Just tell him I’m sorry. Please.”

Corvo groaned again. “Fine, no idea what you’re sorry about. Guilt is a useless emotion if you ask me, but what do I know? Oh right. Everything.”

“Thank you, oh reluctant hero of mine.” I kissed his furry face. “I’ll give you all the pets when we get home.”

“You better,” he replied. “And don’t forget the halibut. And salmon. By the time this is over, there will be a long list.”

“Make sure they’re safe,” I said, and my voice wavered, giving away the worry I was trying to conceal.

“I’m many things, Meera, but I’m not a liar. Most of the time. They’re fine. You, however, need to start moving.” He paused. “Try not to get yourself eaten or anything before I get back.”

He shimmered out of existence with a soft crack of air displacement.

Damon looked at me. “You ready?”

Not even close. But I nodded anyway.

“Let’s go,” he said, slipping the other backpack on.

We turned toward the unknown, the air heavy with humidity and silence, and started walking north—toward the convergence, and hopefully, toward the others.

Toward home.

I tried to stop it, but my emotions caught up with me. A single tear slid down my cheek, and somehow, it didn’t escape Damon.

“Hey,” he said gently, rubbing my shoulder. “They’re okay. Corvo wouldn’t lie about it.”

“I know,” I whispered, sniffling once and trying to pull it together. “I just wish I hadn’t said the things I did.”

“That wasn’t you, Meera. That wasn’t Vareck either. Evorsus wanted you to be split apart.”

I huffed. “Yeah, well, it got what it wanted.”

“Just don’t leave my side. I fear it wants you alone entirely.”

“Hey.” I stopped walking, and he did too, waiting for me to speak. “I didn’t thank you for what you did back there.”

He raised a brow. “For what?”

“You realized what was happening. You protected me during the land shift. Thank you for that. I know you’re stuck with me and that puts you on edge, and I know you have no reason to like me after the ... circumstances of how we met. And?—”