Page 70 of Once the Skies Fade

Matthias

Imust have dozed off or passed out, because when I finally opened my eyes the forest had grown quite dim. The gash in my leg still throbbed, but it didn’t seem to be bleeding quite as profusely. Unfortunately my hands had gone numb, and my wrists and shoulders throbbed from the vines holding my arms upright for so many hours. At least I assumed it had been hours.

“How long—” I started to ask Asher, but the dragon was gone.

The vines in front of me now hung limply, uncoiled and empty. Others lay motionless on the ground, their ends still looped as if their captive had simply vanished. I blinked a few times and tried to turn my head to scan the area, but a vine had coiled itself around my neck. My attempts to move only earned me a tighter noose. Keeping my head still, I resorted to shifting my eyes to the left and to the right.

Still nothing.

No dragon.

No shadows.

No fae.

I dropped my head forward, closing my eyes. I couldn’t give in to defeat yet. I simply needed time to figure out a plan––except I didn’t have much time, if any. I shouldn’t have provokedthe mercenary. Then I could have been on my way back to the castle, on to the next trial, and on my way to discovering the truth and completing this disaster of a mission.

“Rise and shine, general.” A too-cheery voice drew my eyes open. Asher stooped in front of me, looking up with his dimpled, smirking face—no longer in dragon form.

“How’d you get free? And how are youstillfree? Why am I still strung up?” My questions tumbled out of my mouth in a barely coherent mess, and Asher chuckled darkly.

“My limbs are quite a bit bigger as a dragon. Once I shifted back, I pulled free. Being unarmed kept them at bay long enough for me to find this.” He pulled the vial—my vial, I assumed—out from his collar.

“And you stayed to gloat, did you?” I asked, lifting a brow at him.

He didn’t answer my question but dropped the vial against his chest and stepped back, his head falling to one side as he tapped a finger to his chin.

“Why did you stop that fae from taking my head?”

I shot him a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Most—especially those I had just tried to kill—would have cheered him on.”

Lifting my brows, I feigned shock. “Wait, you were trying to kill me earlier?”

“You can drop the act, general.”

“What act would that be?”

He eyed me for a moment, and then his features relaxed in understanding. “I had a brother like you.”

“Handsome and charming?”

“Always quick to mask pain with a joke,” he corrected.

I frowned at him. “Oh, I’m not trying to hide my pain. I’ll describe it to you if you want. My shoulders hurt. I can’t feelmy fingers. My head is pounding like crazy. And I have an itch between my shoulders that I can’t scratch.”

He didn’t seem at all amused. “You know what I mean.”

“You got me,” I said, shaking my head. I let my bottom lip tremble a bit. “It’s easier to make a quip than to acknowledge the deep-seated angst within”—I sniffed loudly—“but it’s just hard not having anyone to really confide in when life is tough. Everyone claims to care, but no one is truly willing to listen. You know?”

His face was cold stone, unmoving and emotionless.

“Would you listen, Asher?” I asked in as pathetic a tone as I could muster.

Looking up into the trees, he sighed loudly. “Are you ever serious?”

“I think so. Only when necessary, though. Life is too short to waste time lamenting shit we can’t change.”

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