Page 27 of Returned to the Vissigroth (The Vissigroths of Leander #6)

I wasn’t happy.

But then again, I wouldn’t have been happy if she’d stayed behind either.

It was the kind of no-win scenario only the gods found amusing. Either I brought Daphne with us into potential danger, or I left her behind in a camp full of strange faces, with no guarantee that whatever had stirred beneath the Pyme mountains wouldn’t come clawing toward her first.

So. She rode with us.

At least this way I could keep an eye on her the entire damn time.

The morning sun filtered through the trees in shafts of gold as we rode.

The air was crisp and carried that sharp scent of cold soil and moss.

Dragoons flanked us on all sides, silent and alert, armor gleaming in the light.

Their eyes constantly scanned the horizon, but I knew half of them were watching her .

She was the susserayn’s mother. My mate.

A resurrected mystery. And though no one dared speak of it aloud, there was an unease around her. Reverence mixed with awe.

Daphne rode just ahead of me, upright in the saddle, her braid bouncing between her shoulder blades with each step of her nicta.

She didn’t look fragile. She looked… determined.

Steady. I wished she were in front of me sharing my nicta, but she was a lady, the susserayn's mother; it was only fitting for her to ride alone.

Her presence set my blood humming. The way she had always done and always would.

My desire for her was more than simple lust. Waking up with her in my arms this morning.

It had been a gift—another gift from the gods.

It had reminded me of all the good times we had had.

It had also reminded me that I hadn't allowed myself to think much about those days.

Mostly when I thought about her, I thought about what I had lost. How Thalia would have loved to meet her, and Daphne, Thalia.

I had thought about her last rotations, melancholic and sad.

But that hadn't been my Daphne. My Daphne was right here; she might still be a little off because she didn't remember, but when I saw the laughter in her eyes, the mortification this morning when Myccael walked in, the way she looked at Myccael as her son, that was my Daphne.

When she died, I hadn't been only robbed of her physical presence, I hadn't allowed myself to think about her the way she deserved to be thought about.

I had remembered the Daphne who had retreated from the world, instead of the one who had been so full of laughter. Who teased me relentlessly.

We crested the ridge above the first drilling site, and Tovahr called a halt.

The ground was barren here, filled with large slabs of rock.

I had ridden over them I didn't know how many times and had never seen them as anything but as slabs of rock.

Now, though, I wondered. Were they too polished?

Too even? Had these once been walls holding up a building?

I helped Daphne down, who looked around curiously. Tovahr pointed out a large hole, and I made sure Daphne stayed well away from it.

The rest of the escort fanned out quickly, forming a perimeter around the clearing, weapons slung and eyes sharp.

The hole itself wasn’t wide. Not nearly large enough for a male to squeeze through. At its mouth, the rock dropped off into blackness like the throat of a beast.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Myccael muttered, crouching beside it. “Drone,” he prompted.

A dragoon moved forward immediately, cradling the compact scout unit in his arms. He deployed it with practiced ease, sliding a slim orb the size of a fist toward the hole, where it hovered.

With his palmtop, he engaged the drone. Lights blinked before it dropped, spiraling smoothly down into the narrow shaft.

It didn't take long for its lights to vanish into the dark.

A hush fell over the group as we assembled around the dragoon, watching his palmtop over his shoulder.

Daphne stepped closer to my side, instinctively reaching for my forearm.

Her fingers barely brushed the leather of my baldric, but the contact sent a ripple through me.

I didn’t move. Just stood there, eyes on the screen as the drone fed back images of tunnel walls.

Layers of sediment. Nothing of interest. Nothing, even as it hit the end of the hole.

"Alright, let's get to the next one," Myccael ordered.

By the time we visited two more, the sun stood high on the horizon. It was getting warmer, and I feared Daphne would get too hot. We stopped at a fourth drilling site, and I was mulling over taking her back to camp myself so that she could cool down, when Myccael suddenly exclaimed, "There!"

I was too distracted by Daphne's presence to have paid attention, and I was glad Myccael had.

The dragoon moved the drone the way Myccael wanted, and then I saw it too.

It would have been easy to miss. The drill must have dislocated a larger rock, one that had sealed another air pocket, barely discernible in the darkness.

"Send it in," Myccael ordered.

The drone flew through the opening, its beams illuminating not a room, but passages. Several. Untouched by time, the ground was still even, albeit filled with debris. Some walls showed signs of strain, cracked seams, rips, but otherwise they seemed to shine under the light.

I looked up from the palmtop and turned around, mentally mapping the passageways. I couldn't be sure, but more Pyme mountains rose to the left, and I was willing to bet the passageways led straight to them.

"Why do I have a feeling those mountains are crawling with Eulachs?" Myccael wanted to know, his eyes following mine.

"Because you're an excellent warrior," I retorted. Words I would have never thought I would say to him, but they made me proud now. More so because they were true. Myccael had become a great warrior, worthy of the title susserayn.

"I'll send for more dragoons," Myccael nodded to himself, "we'll clear those mountains once and for all."

Two rotations ago, Darryck and several of our strongest vissigroths had been dispatched to exterminate them, on Kennenryn’s orders. It was meant to be a purge. A clean sweep. Fire and steel. Nothing was supposed to have been left alive.

And yet here we were.

They had multiplied since. Spread. Like vermin—silent, stubborn, and impossible to root out completely. A scourge that slithered back through cracks the moment we turned our attention elsewhere. Deadly in their silence. Insidious in their hunger.

Too easy to miss. Too many places to hide.

I looked at the hole Torvahr had drilled with different eyes. No Leander would fit through this. But an Eulach would.

"We need to make this hole bigger. I want dragoons down there. I want this entire passageway mapped and charted." I ordered.

Myccael looked thoughtful and added, "And those mountains. If we have to pick them apart rock by rock, we will do so. We will figure out how the Eulachs go in and out of them."

I nodded. Zyn. We just declared war on the miserable creatures.