Page 59 of Dark Bringer (Lord of Everfell #1)

Gavriel

T he instant he felt the tremor, he knew they were in trouble.

It came as a faint vibration beneath his feet. If he had not been still and silent, he wouldn’t have noticed. But he remembered the sensation from the night at Red Dog Camp. Sinn moving within the tunnels.

Fear gripped him—not for himself but for the two women down there in the dark. There was nothing he could do to stop a blue emperor, but he could warn them. If it wasn’t already too late.

He had no torch, but there were ways of making light.

With a pained grimace, he tore out one of his covert feathers and used the barb to prick a thumb.

Blue blood welled up, imbued with enough ley that it shimmered in the darkness, giving off just enough light to see by.

Then he set off, marking the wall with a smear of blood every twenty cubits.

The main shaft sloped gently into the hillside, its low roof supported by timber beams. Twenty minutes of walking brought him to a cave-in where a horizontal shaft bisected the first. It was too round and smooth to be part of the original mine. There seemed to be no other way down.

For a moment, the weight of the rock felt crushing. He was a being of air—of open sky and cool wind and lofty heights. This place was solid and stale and deep, and he did not belong here. A visceral sense of wrongness invaded his gut. Or was he nearing the source of the kaldurite?

Gavriel squeezed his thumb and left a mark at the juncture. Then he delved into the tunnel.

His wings were tucked tight against his back, but the Sinn-bored shaft was large enough to allow him to walk upright.

He didn’t sense more vibrations. Perhaps the creature was just passing through.

When he reached another junction where three tunnels branched off, Gavriel closed his eyes and listened.

There—a scrape on stone. He moved toward the sound, the dark trying to devour his weak pool of blue light. “Cathrynne!”

A dust-coated figure appeared from the blackness. It was Kalisto Machena—and she was alone.

“What happened?” he asked, hurrying up to her.

The girl looked distraught. “We found the cavern, but a blue emperor came along. It attacked. We ran and the ceiling came down?—”

“Where’s Cathrynne?”

She gestured behind her. “Back that way, but you won’t be able to reach her.” The young woman’s voice wavered on the edge of tears. “She was trapped on the other side with the Sinn?—”

“Go up and wait for us at the exit,” Gavriel said, his mind racing.

Kal started to protest, but she looked exhausted. Gavriel reminded himself that she had been chased by a giant, buried up to her neck in the desert, and now attacked by a Sinn. He would not ask more of her.

“Go,” he said gently. “I’ll find her.”

Kal gave a weary nod and stumbled down the tunnel. Gavriel pressed onward. “Cathrynne!” he shouted. “Answer me if you can!”

His own voice echoed back. Gavriel delved deeper into the maze of tunnels.

He met several cave-ins and numerous branchings.

Each time, he chose randomly and marked his passage with a smear of blood.

He called her name again and again, uncaring that something else might be drawn to the sound of his voice.

In one of the smooth Sinn-bored tunnels, a dull boom echoed, followed by a strong tremor that sent loose pebbles skittering at his feet.

Gavriel braced himself, but the shaking finally stopped.

Another collapse somewhere in the labyrinth of tunnels.

The mountain was shifting, settling. Time was running short.

He had almost given up hope when he caught a whiff of vetiver and almond blossoms. Spirits lifting, he followed it through an empty cavern, past several smaller tunnels, and into a place where a shallow lake of still water had gathered.

There, on the rocky shore, sat a slight figure with flaxen hair. Her head lifted.

“Gavriel?”

Relieved laughter spilled out. He ran up and pulled her into an embrace, inhaling the smell of her hair. “Thank the gods! Are you hurt?”

When he pulled back, her eyes were wide. “I met a Sinn. Gavriel, it spoke to me . . .”

She took a step and stumbled.

Gavriel caught her. “Spoke to you?”

She nodded. “They are not what we think. They’re intelligent .”

He lifted her in his arms. She made a weak protest, but her head rested against his shoulder. Gavriel retraced his steps through the tunnels. Faint tremors shook the rock walls every few minutes, speeding his footsteps. They emerged just as dawn broke over the Zamir Hills. Gavriel swore softly.

Kal Machena was gone.

He could see a trail of faint scuff marks in the dirt, ending at a gravel road. She could have gone in either direction. She had an hour head start, and he knew how skilled Kal was at hiding—especially in the hills she’d grown up in.

He glanced down at Cathrynne, at the fading bruises on her face, the blue shadows beneath her eyes. She was in no condition to help him search for Kal. And the girl clearly did not want to be found. Perhaps she deserved to be left alone, as he had promised.

Free will. Travian’s greatest gift to his children.

“Hold tight,” he ordered. Cathrynne hesitated only briefly before her arms slid around his neck, fingers locking at his nape. He secured her against him, one arm behind her back, the other under her legs.

His wings extended to their full span, fourteen cubits of midnight velvet catching the last rays of sun.

He crouched slightly, then pushed upward with his legs as his wings swept downward in a powerful stroke.

They shot skyward, the ground falling away.

Cathrynne’s arms tightened, her face pressed against his shoulder.

Gavriel angled east, toward the sea. Toward Everfell.

* * *

He flew through the night. The stars wheeled overhead as Cathrynne slept in his arms, her body warm against his chest. Dawn approached from the east, a pale line dividing sea from sky.

First gray, then pink, then a fierce orange that painted the underside of scattered clouds.

The Parnassian Sea stretched below them, dark waves tipped with gold.

Her weight was nothing to him. Still, he felt her presence like an anchor—not a burden but a tether to something he’d never allowed himself before.

The sun breached the horizon. Light spilled across the water, a path of fire leading to Arioch. The city appeared in the distance, white stone walls rising from rocky cliffs, the towers and spires of the colleges catching the new day’s light.

Gavriel banked north toward the wild coastline where Everfell stood alone on its promontory, a mound of gray stone against green hills, brambles twining along its walls. He landed on the veranda that extended from the eastern wing, opened the glass doors with one hand, and strode inside.

Edvin Yarl was coming down the staircase. His face lit up.

“Lord Morningstar! Thank the gods you found her,” he said with feeling.

“There is much to tell you,” Gavriel said, “but we must get her settled first.”

Cathrynne stirred in his arms. “Where are we?” she asked groggily.

“Home,” he replied.

The guest rooms were located on the third floor, rarely used but meticulously cleaned and aired. Yarl followed them upstairs and opened the doors, then rushed to turn down the quilt. Gavriel laid Cathrynne on the bed.

“Rest,” he said gently, tugging her boots off and pulling the covers up.

She smiled at him, then snuggled into the pillow. “Just a quick nap,” she said.

He retreated to the doorway where Yarl waited, his face carefully composed.

“She stays until she is well enough to return to the chapter house,” Gavriel said. He glanced at the bed. Cathrynne’s eyes were closed, her breathing even. Something tightened in his chest. “Until then, tell no one she is here.”

Yarl nodded. “Of course. Shall I have some tea brought round?”

“Yes, please. And food. I’m starved.”

After passing on these orders to the cook, Yarl joined him in the dining room, where Gavriel ate a quick meal of soup and cheese and sketched out the broad strokes of all that had happened in the last few days.

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground regarding events in Kota Gelangi and Arjevica,” Yarl promised. He shook his head. “I cannot believe it was the young aide who murdered Barsal Casolaba!”

“We must discover his true identity,” Gavriel said. “But I am too tired to think more on it just now.”

“You should retire, sir.”

“In a while.” He gave a weary smile. “If you need me, I’ll be in the library.”

Gavriel sought the peace of his inner sanctum and the comfortably familiar scent of cold ashes, leather, and parchment.

Correspondence had piled up during his absence.

Letters and entreaties from across the empire.

He broke the wax seal on an official-looking missive from the Collegium in Andar Jeyla and read the opening lines.

Then read them again.

Something about a complaint over new tariffs on nutmeg and lentils, but he found it impossible to focus on the particulars. His thoughts drifted to Cathrynne and the feel of her in his arms. The rightness of it, despite his father’s laws and the harsh punishments he himself had doled out to others.

Gavriel leaned back, Valoriel’s stern, slightly contemptuous voice echoing in his head. You are an archangel of Kirith, not some lovesick boy.

No, of course he wasn’t. He had brought Cathrynne Rowan to Everfell for her own safety, nothing more.

She had endured enough suffering on his behalf.

She needed time to heal and recover before she resumed her duties.

Everfell was the ideal place for that, peaceful and secluded, with a dozen servants at her command.

I am a shepherd, not a wolf.

Yet the words of Alluin Westwind returned to him unbidden.

I love this witch with all my soul. With every breath and thought and deed. Have you never loved someone thus?