Page 80 of The Dead Saint

Magnus, bringing up the rear of the party, heard the hooves first—a rider approaching at a breakneck pace—and he signaled for the others to move off the roadside. Soon, a thin man on a large roan mare came into sight. He used no saddle and carried nothing but a skin of water slung around his chest and a leather cylinder. On his shirt, a silver snake glinted. The mark of the empire.

Adrian rode to meet him, and for a brief moment, Sorcha thought the messenger might join them. He kept looking beyond Adrian to her, pale eyes intent and curious. But he turned and rode away after a brief conversation, his horse breaking into a gallop within a few feet and carrying the messenger away.

Sorcha’s stomach twisted—uneasy with the expression on the man’s face. He’d been studying her, searching for anything on her face that he might present to the prince upon his return. Only the prince would have sent someone. Sorcha had learned long ago that no other man held sway over Adrian’s life.

But the continent was vast. The Traveling City had fallen behind them weeks ago. If this man had reached them so easily, it meant the Traveling City was closer than expected. They’d made it over the mountains and might have even had a few days’ hard ride. Maybe there was an easier path, and the city had come the long way around. Not that it mattered. The relics would be reunited sooner than she’d anticipated.

Revenant rode out to meet Adrian, the two stopping their horses to continue a conversation without the Tomeis listening to every word. It was impossible to read Revenant—his faintly glowing eyes landed on her face for a moment before moving on—but Adrian’s anger was unmistakable.

Adrian listened without speaking for a time. Then he shook his head, a single movement, as his gaze found her. Relief hit her as the two men rode back. But it vanished when Adrian’s face remained stony.

“Prince Eine has sent an urgent message.” Adrian turned to Thompson. “How far are we from the next relic?”

The man pulled out the two maps he consulted at every turn. He shook his head, shrugging. “Not too far. We’d be there by early evening.”

“Good.” Adrian nodded, voice terse. “We’ll keep going.”

* * *

A bog stretched out in either direction around them—miles and miles of murky water and half-dead trees. Tall, thin grasses quaked in the lackluster wind moving through, bringing the occasionally hints of the coast. The ground was soft in places, and the horses picked their way carefully, working to find solid ground.

Soon, the party divided. Adrian, Revenant, and Thompson continued on with her. The others turned back to wait for their return. The farther they traveled, the more a sense of watchfulness touched them.

Sorcha could sense something out there. A creature of some kind, frightening as the werewolves and the vampire skeletons deep in the cave. What else? Something like the creature in the blizzard? No, it would be something new. Something as equally terrifying.

As they rode, Thompson murmured to himself. Sorcha caught bits and pieces of it. He was watching the map, looking up briefly from time to time, and taking mental notes. No matter what happened, he would know the way out of this maze. Continuing on, Sorcha kept an eye on the sky, but it was overcast, making it impossible to determine the time of day. Morning or afternoon. Possibly evening. Or an exceptionally bright moon could be fighting the cloud cover in the hopes of lighting their way. No matter what, the light remained unchanged.

“Stop.” Thompson rustled a map. “That stone to the right. See the carving?”

Barely visible and worn down by time, the engraving could still be seen on the broken pillar. A skull. Crude and possibly cut in a short amount of time. There was a quality that felt rushed to Sorcha. It made her uneasy.

“It should be near here.”

“Sorcha?”

She jumped, startled out of her thoughts. Adrian was watching her—his expression giving her nothing.

Was this the man who had pushed her body to its shaking limits? Or the man who killed those around him without a second thought? Or was this the man who had talked about leaving this all behind and running away together?

“Which direction do we go?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Sorcha said, turning away from him.

She closed her eyes, breathing in, working to calm her mind. No questions. No distractions. Find the relic. Resurrect the Saint. Nothing else mattered. Adrian didn’t matter. He couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Despite what her body might be screaming for out of blind lust and terrible longing.

They were here for one reason.

“Tribute? Sacrifice?”

The question came across the water—up from the earth or down from the sky, it was impossible to tell. It held that note of other.

Sorcha swallowed. Another guardian, Sorcha thought. And what price would she have to pay here?

“Why have you come?” the deep voice asked.

“We’re looking for something,” Adrian replied.

“I have nothing for you.”

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