Page 41 of Wilds of Wonder
That was a valid point, not that I’d ever admit it.
“And you stole the bolt,” I said. “You stole it from them.” I gestured to Driscoll’s unconscious form, shifting so that his head lay in my lap.
“Only so you couldn’t steal it first.” He shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing his muscled forearms. Scars and red markings covered his arms and hands. I knew every one. He’d told me about them. I’d witnessed him get some of them as the bone collector.
I could close my eyes and I’d still see them, know them as well as I knew my own features.
Blood and frost. How had I never put this together?
I swallowed, meeting his gaze and flushing when I realized he’d caught me staring. I ran a hand over Driscoll’s head in a soothing motion.
“I told you in confidence I was looking for the bolt,” I snapped. How stupid of me to think I could trust him. How stupid of me to open up to him like that. But that was when I’d thought he was someone different. Someone like me. “So you just wanted it to get the best of me? How mature.”
“Why I wanted it is none of your business,” he snapped back. “You’re not the only one after that bolt. It doesn’t matter anyway because now you’ve gone and lost it. Not only lost the bolt but also the white wolf.”
It hurt that I’d trusted him with that information. I still remembered how we’d lain together on that hill in the highlands. Side by side, both our hoods up, darkness cloaking us, and I’d told him my stupid aspirations, that I’d hoped to use the bolt to gain entry into the academy. He must’ve been laughing at me the entire time, knowing he wasn’t just part of the academy—he was the face of it.
I shook away the memory, shook away the tears threatening to fall.
Instead, I summoned another glare that I hurled his way. “I think we have bigger problems on our hands. Like how in the bloody frost we’re supposed to escape this place.”
“You can do whatever you’d like.” He stood abruptly, wiping his hands of the peculiar black dust coating them, coating the ground. “I have no intention of leaving.”
I stilled and slowly came to a stand. “You wanted to come here?”
His gaze was hard, unwavering, and his expression betrayed nothing.
I gazed around the strange landscape, unable to make sense of any of it. “Why would you want to come to the Deadlands? Everyone knows there is no escaping this place.”
Yes, I might have fantasized about exploring the mysterious former star court, but I never would’ve been crazy enough to do it.
His jaw ticked. I’d struck a nerve, but I didn’t know why. “As usual, little rabbit, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said. At one point, the term had felt like an endearment. Now it felt like a mockery.
“What would you prefer I call you?” he asked. “Lady Growley?” He tsked. “Ah, but no. You can’t be called that anymore. Not after you murdered your husband.”
I flinched like he’d slapped me. “Now who’s the one with no idea what they’re talking about?”
He crossed his arms. “This is where we say goodbye. It’s your fault you’re here, so you can deal with the consequences of your actions.”
It was as if he were a different person. The teasing, fun bone collector gone. In his place was a serious, very annoyed man. It was as if I’d never known him at all.
He scooped up his satchel and stalked away, feet crushing the little trees scattered across the ground. They squealed as his boot crunched over them.
“Where are you going?” I called, unable to help myself.
“None of your concern,” he called back. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t follow me again. You can see how well that worked out for you the first time.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very good at taking orders,” I said.
He didn’t respond, just continued his way through the path of giant flowers. Some of them shuffled as he walked past, others dipping like they might brush against him. He paid no mind to any of it.
I couldn’t believe he’d come here on purpose. Was this for his job? Some research expedition? He had to know it was a fool’s errand. A one-way trip.
One of the flowers dipped down, its bright purple petals unfurling and hovering over his head. He stilled, looking up and shooting out a hand. Fire erupted from his fingertips, sizzling against the flower, which shrieked and straightened.
“You guys, I had the weirdest dream,” Driscoll said, sitting up and rubbing his head where he’d hit it. “Maverick said we were in Shiraeth. Can you imagine? That would basically mean we’re dead. Like completely dead. I’m talking no chance at surviving—” He stopped, eyes widening as he took in the landscape around us, gaze slowly working up to the twilight sky above. The dark purple twinkled with stars, ribbons of green undulating through the sky.
