Page 8

For a moment, I stand there breathing hard, trying to process the magnitude of this revelation.

Trapped with a gargoyle. The ramifications are enormous.

My entire being balks at the notion of traveling with someone who views me with suspicion and anger, especially when I have my own pursuers to fear.

A fleeting memory of Drayveth’s furious expression ghosts through my thoughts—his ultimatum was clear: come back to the coven or die.

Maybe now, ironically, having this gargoyle at my side might be my only shot at staying alive.

Steadying my breath, I release a ragged sigh. “Look, we can fight all day, or we can accept reality and figure out how to fix this.” My voice sounds tired, and I feel as if I’ve aged a decade overnight.

Kaelith’s wings shift slightly, the faintest sign of acceptance. “The second option is the only rational path.”

I nod once, chewing my bottom lip. The tension between us simmers, but at least we’ve reached a kind of stalemate.

He helps me step back to the meager remains of our fire.

The coals have cooled, so I crouch to rekindle them with what leftover scraps of fuel I can find.

He watches me, arms folded, stance imposing.

I sense he’s reluctant to show any vulnerability.

Typical, I suppose, for a gargoyle who once trusted a purna and paid dearly for it.

As the flames rise to a soft flicker, I draw my cloak tighter. “We can’t linger on this ledge forever,” I say, voice hushed. “Drayveth won’t be far. He might have had to retreat last night because of the collapsing temple, but he won’t give up.”

Kaelith’s mouth twists into a grim line. “Your mentor is the one who hunts you?”

I inhale, dread coiling in my belly. “Used to be my mentor. He’s…

not that anymore. Not after what he did.

” My tone breaks at the end, unbidden. My past with Drayveth is complicated.

He once championed me to the coven, proclaiming my raw power could be harnessed for great things.

Then, the moment I questioned his methods, he turned.

He accused me of harboring traits that could lead to corruption, manipulating the other purna to cast me out.

I close my eyes briefly, shutting out the sting of betrayal.

Kaelith’s gaze intensifies, the gold rim of his irises brightening. “What did he do?” he asks, not gently, but there’s a current of curiosity underneath.

I have this urge to snap at him for intruding, but if we’re going to be forced into alliance, he deserves some context.

“He accused me of subverting the coven’s ways,” I say, letting the words come out in a monotone, hoping that strips them of their pain.

“Said my magic was ‘unnatural.’ That I was heading down a path like the old horror stories—like the first Nyxari. The coven believed him. They branded me.” My hand finds the scar on my wrist. “Then they banished me under threat of death if I ever returned or used my magic outside their control.”

He exhales, studying the mark on my wrist. His expression is inscrutable, though I notice the flicker of recognition. “So they fear another dark prophecy. One that might mirror what happened to Nerezza.”

“Yes. Drayveth hammered that comparison into them,” I murmur bitterly.

“Ironically, by calling me too powerful, he may have forced me into dangerous situations I never would’ve chosen otherwise.

The more I ran, the more suspicious they became.

” I shake my head, a hollow laugh escaping.

“And here I am, accidentally unleashing an actual threat on the world. I guess Drayveth will feel vindicated if he ever finds out.”

A heavy silence wraps around us. Finally, Kaelith says, “So you truly had no intention of playing with ancient wards. You were just… desperate.”

I roll my shoulders, bitterness coiling in my throat.

“Desperate. Yes.” Another memory slams into me: Drayveth’s eyes flaring with green-black energy, vines of corrupted magic lashing out at me in some half-lit corridor.

I’d barely escaped with my life. If I hadn’t found the temple’s glyphs, I wouldn’t be standing here.

“He won’t stop until he’s certain I’m dead.

Or until I grovel back into the coven. I’m not interested in either option. ”

Kaelith makes a low sound, not quite a growl. “You risk the entire planet to save yourself from that bastard?”

My anger flares again, though at least this time it’s tempered by weariness.

“Don’t twist my words. I’m not happy about any of this.

But do you know how it feels to have no safe place left to run?

To watch your only allies turn on you because you won’t kneel to their demands?

” My voice shakes. The memories tumble forth: the fear, the heartbreak, the shame.

“He told me he would break me if I didn’t comply.

So yes, I used the only means I found in that temple.

I had no clue it would unravel your sacrifice. ”

Kaelith’s tail thumps against the rocky ground, stirring up a faint cloud of dust. His intense gaze remains fixed on me, evaluating. At last, he nods curtly. “It seems we’re both victims of events beyond our control.”

A fragile truce blossoms in that statement.

We share a moment of quiet reflection, letting the tension ease a fraction.

Finally, I blow on the embers again, conjuring a small flame that flickers around the last scraps of wood.

“We need to decide our next move,” I say, trying to sound steadier than I feel.

“We can’t stay in the open, and we can’t go wandering aimlessly through the mountains.

Drayveth is likely searching for me. So are the rest of the rogue purna who follow him. ”

Kaelith arches a brow, or the gargoyle equivalent of it. “You think they’re numerous enough to mount a serious hunt in the mountains?”

I grimace. “They’re determined, I’ll give them that. If he’s convinced I’m dangerous, he’ll rally as many as he can. My hope is that Prazh’s harsh climate deters them for a while. But Drayveth’s not easily intimidated by terrain.”

His mouth settles into a hard line. “Then we find safer ground. Possibly locate a place where we can study this tether—and figure out how to break it.” He glances at me. “Unless you have some hidden knowledge about undoing accidental magical bonds?”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. My coven’s lore is fairly broad, but they hoard the darkest spells. I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about me rummaging through forbidden tomes.”

He shifts his weight, the runes on his skin pulsing faintly under the early sunlight.

“Then we may have to consult older sources. Something from gargoyle history, or from purna archives outside your coven’s sphere.

” A flicker of reluctance passes over his face; clearly, he isn’t thrilled about interacting with anyone.

“Do you know where we can find such archives?” I ask, nerves tingling with cautious hope.

His gaze drops momentarily, as though searching his centuries of memory. Then he lifts his head. “There were once hidden libraries in the old cities—somewhere across the ocean. But the world has changed drastically since I sealed myself away. I’m not certain any of those strongholds remain intact.”

My stomach sinks. “Traveling across an ocean… that’s not a small journey.

” I recall scattered rumors about gargoyle enclaves in distant lands, but crossing seas in this hostile environment is no trivial feat.

The dark elves rule many ports, and they’re less than friendly to humans—especially humans with magic.

His tail swishes in an irritated arc. “True. Perhaps we start smaller,” he allows grudgingly. “Are there any reclusive purna enclaves here in Prazh? Or human outposts that might have records of old spells? If nothing else, we might glean hints of who to approach next.”

My pulse skitters. My people. The purna enclaves that remain in these mountains are hidden for a reason.

But not all covens are united. There is the Snowfall Glen Coven, deeper in the range, rumored to practice more esoteric forms of magic.

My own coven was strict, nearly militant.

The Glen, I’ve heard, is more secretive and matriarchal in a different sense, focusing on forging alliances with nature.

“Snowfall Glen,” I say slowly, “might be a possibility. They’re extremely wary of outsiders, even other purna, but if we can convince them we mean no harm, they have extensive knowledge of transformation spells and old wards. ”

Kaelith folds his arms, runes glowing in mild interest. “And you’re certain they won’t turn on you for being exiled?”

I huff out a breath. “Not certain. But they’re separate from my original coven, so maybe they don’t share Drayveth’s vendetta. The real question is how to approach them. They may see a gargoyle and react with… open hostility. Especially if they recall the ancient wars.”

His lips peel back in a grimace, revealing the hint of sharp canines. “Yes, purna and gargoyles were not exactly peaceful neighbors.” He exhales, tension in every line of his posture. “Still, it’s a lead. And we can’t remain here.”

I nod, though my stomach churns with apprehension.

“It’s a start. If the Glen won’t help, maybe they’ll at least point us somewhere else.

” My gaze drops, sweeping the small space we occupied last night.

We have no real supplies, no map, hardly any protective gear.

Just a smoldering fire, scraps of cloth, and the uncertain alliance tying us together.