She nodded. “I do. I’m not sure that the cure is, but I have to try. We’re so close, Cyrus.”
He squeezed her arm. “A couple more days won’t hurt anything. But you have to return with me right after, okay?”
She nodded, giving him a hug.
They trekked on, Avenay and Vasu in the middle, the seraphs in the back and the demons hovering behind Onora in the front. She kept a hand on her dagger at all times, her ears tilted to listen as they walked. The tension in the air between the party members felt like a fight would break out any minute.
Enid was talking to her brothers, joking with them, and the smile on her face made Avenay stare, a smile hinting at the corners of her own mouth. The memories of Enid’s touches the night before flooded her mind. If Enid would let her, she’d love to know that smile in all its iterations, learn everything that garnered it, and how she could makeher smile every day. Enid’s gaze shifted stealthily over her shoulder, right to Avenay, sticking there with a look she couldn’t decipher, then turned quickly away.
They stopped at a clearing for lunch. Vasu used a spell to make a fire and Avenay pulled out some of their packages of food to warm up while Kaemon and Cyrus chatted amicably about archery. Cyrus took his bow off his back and handed it to Kaemon, who examined it with delight.
“Beautiful craftsmanship. Mine is handmade and only with what I had available. It gets the job done, but yours is exceptional,” Kaemon said, running his hand along the string.
Cyrus took Kaemon’s and examined it. “You mean to tell me you made this yourself?”
Kaemon nodded. “I learned to hunt when I lived in the woods. I wanted a bow, and it took many tries, but I figured some things out. This is the fifth one I’ve made, though, and the best. Still, not very fine.”
“On the contrary, it’s excellent quality,” Cyrus said.
Avenay walked up and sat a small distance from Cyrus, her eyes drifting to Enid with concern. Enid only gave her a wink and looked away, finding her place next to Kaemon and Vasu by the fire.
“Why were you living in the woods?” Vasu asked innocently, the question making everyone go silent.
Kaemon glanced briefly at Onora, who busied herself with cleaning her blade. Her movements slowed, though, her head tilted to listen.
“The Hunters Guild held me captive for years. When I escaped, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Or so I thought. Not until Enid showed up.”
Vasu gaped, the horror of his realization clear on his face, his ochre skin reddening. “I… I had no idea. I—”
Enid clapped him on the shoulder. “Vasu, tell us about the life of an acolyte.”
“I’m curious,” Onora interrupted, her gaze still fixed on her blade, “Why you were being held captive, Kaemon. And how exactly you escaped.”
Her gaze shot up, locking on Kaemon in a blaze of murderous intent. Enid saw the change in Kaemon immediately, the fear, the horror that filled his body, and Enid’s body reacted in the same way Dryston did. They both stood and blocked Kaemon from the Hunter.
Onora stood, too, grasping her sword tightly. “We don’t lock up innocents.”
“Funny, I distinctly remember a group of Hunters murdering my entire colony. Who were all innocents,” Dryston growled.
“We don’t kill or attack innocents. Perhaps you don’t remember it correctly.”
Dryston’s anger rolled off him in waves of shadows, and he took a step forward. Before he could move again, Cyrus stepped up, blocking both of them. Vasu walked to Onora, speaking to her in hushed tones while pulling her back. Cyrus stared down at Dryston, hard as stone. Dryston bristled, his nostrils flaring at the contest to his power, but Enid grabbed his arm, yanking until he looked at her.
“Easy, easy,” she said. “Think about all the work you’ve put into our alliances, Drys.”
He breathed in and out slowly, then turned, sitting back down, moodily staring at the fire. Enid glanced at Onora, who sat next to Vasu now. He looked calm and collected, as if nothing was bothering him and he was sitting next to a friend, but Avenay recognized his attentiveness and posture. He was on high alert.
The group ate in silence, the tension so thick that it pressed down on each person. Dryston sat next to his siblings, wings fanned out, brow heavy as he stared at Onora. Onora ignored him, one hand always on her dagger, a scowl on her face.
Avenay was more than ready when the break was over and jumped to her feet, following behind the demons as Enid and Kaemon practically dragged their brother away from the fight.
“Tuck your wings in,” Enid hissed.
“No,” Dryston responded, his voice dark.
Enid’s eyes took in Dryston with concern, chewing her lower lip. Avenay longed to reach out, to touch her in comfort, but the desire was so startling that she just curled her hand into a fist.
Cyrus came up next to her, looking from Dryston back to Onora, who was in the back now. She’d given up her ranger role, perhaps because the path was more clearly defined now. Avenay looked back. Onora’s eyes were pinned on the back of Dryston’s head, pools of murderous hate. More likely she was in the back to attack easier if need be.