Page 90 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

Pressing his lips together, Asheros dips his head. “Yes, it was.” He hesitates but continues. “Seeing how distressed you were at our lack of concrete evidence, I wanted to do what I could to gather information.”

Warmth blossoms in my chest at his thoughtfulness.

Now’s not the time, I think to myself. My feelings for Asheros will cloud my judgment. I slip into strategizing mode, my mind pulling apart the limited information we do have. “How far are we from Lyndhaven, a few hours?” It’s been a while since I’ve traveled in this part of Steel.

Savell purses his lips, tilting his head left and right as if he’s working it over in his mind. “A few hours at the least, and half a day at most.”

“Let’s shift course,” I say, my words holding the full weight of a command. “If the red-eyed male is going through Lyndhaven to get to Illnamoor, then so should we.”

Savell looks to Asheros, deferring to him.

Asheros nods. Though he speaks to Savell, he turns and holds my gaze. “We ride to Lyndhaven.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

When we reach Lyndhaven, sunset threatens to overtake the skies.

Sparsely settled, the town is dwarfed by Esvelon’s breadth. Small, one-story wooden structures sit far apart with sprawling emerald hills visible in between. There’s a central cobblestone road sprinkled with gaps where stones need replacement, and a small square with a few market stalls. An inn and tavern sit at the corner, the worn grooves in the road where most travelers pass through.

When the tavern door opens, fresh bread and hot stew waft in our direction. Lanterns begin to glow. And though they’re spaced in somewhat even intervals, they’re far enough apart, that as it gets darker, they’ll only provide dim light. Where in Esvelon, the main roads were lined with tightly packed buildings, markets bustling with shopkeepers and shoppers alike, Lyndhaven is a quiet, calm place.

Or so it should be.

There’s nothing here to draw my suspicion, yet something about the air’s unnatural heaviness sets me on edge. I can’t explain how or why, but I know something’s not right.

Something feels wrong.

Unnatural.

“Trust your instincts,” I mutter to myself, remembering Ceren’s words. More than once, my intuition has protected me. Now, more than ever, I must rely on it.

As we approach the center of town, I slide off the back of our horse, and bring my hands to the hilts of my short swords. The others do the same, ready to withdraw their weapons the moment their feet touch the ground.

“Let’s spread out,” I say, in my captain’s tone. How easily I slip back into my former role. So much has happened since I stepped down, that it feels like another lifetime.

“Savell, Ronan,” Asheros commands, effortlessly building upon the foundation I’d started. “Search the west side. Gryska, Kheldryn, take the east.”

“I’ll head north,” I say. “You go south.”

“No,” Asheros says, voice firm. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“We need to cover more ground,” I argue, furrowing my brow.

“And we will.” Jaw set, he levels his gaze to mine. “Together.”

A protest forms on my tongue, but I hold back. There’s no use in wasting precious time fighting with him about this, especially when I know he won’t bend.

“Very well,” I surrender. With a wink, I add, “As long as you don’t slow me down.”

Leaning forward, he says, “Are you doubting whether I can keep up with you, Bladesinger?”

I can’t hold back my smirk. “I’m still deciding.”

A hungry haze gleams in Asheros’s eyes, rising to my challenge. “I think you are.”

Savell clears his throat as if to remind us of what we’re here to do.

My demeanor shifts and the amusement falls from my face. To the others, I say, “Be diligent. Leave no stone unturned.”

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