Page 180 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“I hadn’t thought about there being more of them…” Tharan rubbed his chin with his palm nervously.

Lucius scoffed. “You know better than I Crom had thousands of followers. He was charming and handsome, and I’m sure Erissa wasn’t the only woman he made a zealot of.”

“True.” Tharan pulled back the honey-colored curtain, scanning the quaint town for any sign of the Blood Riders. He sighed. “I guess we better get going. Everyone, prepare. Meet me downstairs in an hour.”

Everyone agreed before heading to get ready.

“I’m going to warn the mayor,” Roderick said.

Tharan gave him a curt nod.

Hopper and Sumac lingered in Tharan’s room after the others left.

“I don’t want to hear it. I know you don’t want me to go, but I have to. I have original blood. I have to be the one who opens the Well. I have to be the one to save Aelia. I couldn’t live with myself if I just stayed here and let all of you go off and do my dirty work for me.”

“We won’t stop you,” Sumac said, tying back her short, black hair. “But if it comes to it, we will both gladly lay down our lives to protect you.”

An ache ripped through Tharan’s heart.

“I will not try to convince you otherwise. I know you both too well.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Hopper said, turning on his heel.

An unspoken knowing passed between Tharan and Sumac. They’d fought beside each other in battle and watched their comrades die together, but this was different somehow. A heaviness hung in the air, and without saying a word, Sumac turned and left.

Tharan took a deep breath as he donned his armor—the armor his father wore in battles for millennia. Thousands of tungsten laurel leaves woven together in a mail as hard as dragon scales. He braided his hair back in the traditional military fashion, one woven knot from forehead to back before twisting the bottom. Taking a razor, he shaved the stubble from his face and applied kohl around his eyes. A fearsome warrior stared back at him from the mirror—one he had not seen in a very long time.

The anticipation of a fight sent adrenaline coursing through his veins. Taking his curved sword from its sheath, he ran a damp cloth over its blade until it shone in the candlelight.

“Well, old friend, looks like we’ll be fighting again,” he whispered to the weapon he’d carried into battle hundredsof times. The thought of spilling blood never got easier. His stomach churned with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

Sheathing his sword again, he adjusted his armor one last time before heading down to the foyer of the inn where the others waited, each dressed in their respective armor. Even Amolie wore a boiled leather cuirass.

Lucius held a lantern in one hand.

“We better get going.”

Tharan nodded, and the group followed the wraith into the silent night.

44CAIDEN

Caiden’s breathturned to vapor in the cool morning air as they trudged through the forest. Pain shot through his ankle, and he leaned on Aelia for support. Even through the dirt and the grime, the scent of jasmine lingered on her skin. A scent he remembered. Not from her memories but from his own. Werehismemories coming back, too?

“The smell is getting stronger. We must be getting closer to the Court of Honey,” Aelia said.

A memory rose to the surface of Caiden’s mind.

“Aelia?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember the last time we were in the Court of Honey together?”

Her cheeks flushed.

“Yes. That was a very long time ago.”

Butterflies flitted in his stomach. Back then, they’d used their secret sign to sneak out to the town proper. They’d danced and drank with the townsfolk. She’d fallen asleep in his arms on a cool summer night in a bed of wildflowers. To her, life couldn’t get better. The night sparkled with fireflies.

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