Page 47 of Heir of Illusion

I shake my head as hope threatens to bloom inside me. “You don’t know that.”

I open my eyes to find him rolling up his sleeve and exposing his forearm. My brow pinches in confusion. “What are you?—”

The sight of his veins turning black cuts off whatever questions I was about to ask. Starting at the crook of his forearm, dark lines move underneath his skin toward his wrist. In some distant corner of my mind, I’m aware that this is the first time I’ve seen this much of him. He always keeps himself covered.

Right before my eyes, a small shadow snake appears in his hand, its red eyes gazing up at Thorne. He nods, and the snake darts toward the collapsed tunnel, disappearing as it slip in-between the cracks in the rocks.

He turns back to me. “If they’re there, my shadow will find them.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, still vaguely unsettled by the sight of the strange snake.

Minutes pass as we silently wait for news.

“Will it need to return?” I ask quietly, unsure what kind of a connection he has to his beasts. “Or are you able to see through its eyes?”

He shakes his head. “She’ll tell me what she finds.”

My gaze widens. “She?”

He nods but doesn’t elaborate.

“It’s clear,” he says finally. “There are no bodies in the tunnels, and she saw people at the other end.”

“They made it.” Air whooshes from my lungs, leaving me dizzy with relief as I fall to my knees, unbothered by the hard rocks beneath me. “Remy’s alright.”

Thorne nods, turning to check out our surroundings. “But we won’t be if we don’t keep moving.”

Knowing he’s right, I push the wave of emotions down and I force myself to stand up. The others will be alright, but right now I need to focus on getting out of this place. Stepping closer to the river, I glance upstream as I try to get a sense for where we are geographically. “I suppose the water must flow in from the ocean that way. So, if we move downstream, we’d be going west?”

“The river could bend at some point,” Thorne points out beside me. “No way to be sure.”

“I guess we’ll have to follow it and find out. Do you suppose Darby tried to swim?”

“No…” He says slowly as his gaze catches on something behind me. “No, I think I he paddled.”

“What?” I ask, turning to follow his eyeline. Squinting through the darkness, I can make out the shape of wooden canoes sitting on the rocky shore about twenty feet away.

We hurry toward them, careful not to trip on the uneven surface. Apprehension stirs within me as I notice there are three of them. That number has always been considered important to those who worship the three sisters. This morning, I thought perhaps I’d felt the interference of the Fates. How fortuitous that these boats are here waiting for us in a tunnel that isn’t even supposed to exist…

Is this a sign that I’m following the right path? A sinking sensation pulls in my gut. Given the things I’ve done, I can’t imagine they’re leading me anywhere good. Fate is never kind to someone like me.

“Do you think people used to use these tunnels often?” Thorne asks. “Before your king had them closed off?”

Cobwebs line the interior, sparking the terrifying question of how many spiders have lived in these boats over the years. I swipe my finger against the wood, leaving a dust trail behind. “Maybe, but they look like they’ve been down here for ages.”

Thorne examines the canoes closely, poking certain spots as he searches for damage. “Lucky for us, the wood’s not rotted.”

Yes,I think.How lucky.

“Do you honestly believe Darby used one of these to get out?” I ask.

“I think that’s exactly what happened.” He points to impressions left in the dirt where something was clearly pushed toward the water. “I hope you’re good with an oar.”

Working together, we manage to get one of the boats into the river, where freezing water fills the soles of my boots. Thorne holds it steady as I climb in and take the back seat. After I’m settled, he hops into the front, letting the heavy current move us forward.

My tired arms protest as I drag the oar through the water, paddling in unison with Thorne. Unfortunately, it’s much harder than the fisherman at the docks make it look. My body aches from the repeated movements, but I don’t stop. I keep my gaze on Thorne, noting how his back and shoulder muscles flex as he rows. The movement is strangely mesmerizing.

Eventually, the water calms down enough for us to carry on a conversation. I can’t stop myself from asking a question that’s been on my mind since we started rowing.

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