Page 151 of Bloodwitch

A heartbeat later, Caden and Zander toppled out too. Zander, though, wasn’t well. His right hand and wrist were bloodied and smashed. Knuckle bones glistened in the moonlight.

“Oh gods,” Lev breathed, moving for him. “That needs tending.”

For several seconds, while the Hell-Bards moved to a fallen oak, Safi spun and spun… And kept on spinning, searching every beech and pine and shadow for a fifth person. A river churned nearby, more sound and vibration than anything she could see. And then there was the doorway, glowing and glaring beside a pile of rocks as tall as she.

Somewhere within all this fog and mist coiling from the trees—somewhere in that craggy rise of earth beyond, there had to be a fifth person.

But there wasn’t. No matter how hard Safi stared, she couldn’t find Empress Vaness.

“Where is she?” Safi rounded on the Hell-Bards. “Where is Vaness?”

No one looked Safi’s way. Lev’s grip was strong at Zander’s back. “Hang on,” she kept murmuring. “Hang on, Zan.”

Meanwhile, Caden hastily bound the ruined hand in a shredded shirt sleeve, completely oblivious to Safi’s panic. “This wound needs water,” he told Zander. “And a healer. All the bones are broken, and with this much exposed—”

“Where is Vaness?” Safi’s voice slapped across the forest. Petulant. Terrified.

Lev finally looked away from Zander. She bit her lip and shook her head. “The Empress fell, Domna. Right before we got through. Zander tried to reach her, but he…”

“Too late,” Zander finished, and the pain flinching across his face was not just from his wound. Tears squeezed from his eyes. “I tried. I swear, I tried.”

Safi’s magic told her the man spoke true. She also knew that he needed help—soon. But right now, Vaness was trapped inside a collapsing cavern, and until Safi found her, all other concerns were meaningless.

She dove back toward the door. The blue light wavered. Caden and Lev screamed at her to wait. She didn’t. She shoved into the doorway.

And Safi slammed against solid stone. The force of the impact flung her back. She crashed to the earth ten paces away. It punched the breath from her lungs. The world darkened and spun, and power buzzed in her chest, throbbed along her skin.

“No,” she groaned, blinking at the moonlit sky. “No, no,no.” She pushed upright, determined to try again.

Lev dropped to a crouch beside her. “It doesn’t work, Domna. I already tried. The magic won’t let us back through.” She offered Safi a hand, but Safi didn’t take it. She couldn’t. All that running, all that escape and violence and flame… and for what? Vaness still hadn’t made it in the end.

No, no, no. Safi couldn’t believe it. Not after everything, Vanesscouldn’tbe gone. Shecouldn’tbe dead. Not her too.

But Merik still lives,her brain reminded her—though even that seemed impossible now. Had she really seen him? Or had he been anapparition made of lightning and snow? Even if he had been real, even if he did still live, he was also trapped inside that mountain.

No, no, no.

Lev moved away, and Safi simply sat there, staring into the trees. There were mountains beyond, vague silhouettes against a darkened sky. Clouds wafted across the moon. The creatures of the night hesitantly resumed their song.

Safi didn’t cry. She almost wished she would. Tears seemed appropriate after everything. Habim and Mathew, Vaness and Merik. And Rokesh too, for she had no idea what had happened to him. Likely, he was as dead as all the other Adders, and didn’the,her Nursemaid, deserve tears?

But no tears came. All Safi could do was breathe and keep on staring.

And all Safi could do was tap. Her left hand, filthy and cold, would not stop this steady rhythm against the earth. Faster. Faster. A roiling, building beat.

“We can’t stay here.” Caden’s voice drifted into her awareness. So far away, and yet she knew he was right there, kneeling beside her.Tap-tap-tap.

“I think we’re in the Ohrins, Safi. Near the Grieg estates. I know that river.”

The Ohrins and the Grieg estates. The literal opposite side of the Witchlands from Marstok. Oh gods below, what were the chances? So many impossibilities all colliding in a single night. Safi didn’t doubt Caden was right, though. Those trees, this cold and mist—she had spent her childhood in these mountains.

“Grieg has men who patrol,” Caden went on. “If they find us, they’ll bring us to him, and if that happens, then you won’t stay free for long.”

No, Safi thought. She wouldn’t. Dom fon Grieg was one of Emperor Henrick’s favored noblemen. One look at Safi, and he’d send her off to Praga…

Her spine tensed at that thought. She sat a bit taller.Tap-tap-tap.Then she turned and looked in Caden’s eyes. The blue door scarcely glowed now, a mere halo to frame his tight-lipped face.

“Good.” Safi let that word drip from her tongue. It tasted like metal. Then she said it again, harder, “Good. Let his men find us. Zander needs help, and a man as rich as Dom fon Grieg will have the best healers in the Witchlands.”