Page 56 of Wilds of Wonder
“That’s what you care about right now?” I snorted. “Not that our entire world is in danger of going extinct, exactly like what happened to the Old World?”
“Is that why you want the bolt, then?” she asked, accusation in her eyes.
I looked away. “That’s none of your business. And the frost queen won’t bargain with you. She’s not the bargaining type. Not the forgivingtype. She’s been humiliated by you for years. Time and time again you’ve gotten your hands on valuable objects that you’ve taken right from under her nose. She won’t let you go free.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said. “Maybe if I give her the name of the bone collector, it will change her mind.”
I stiffened at that threat. Stubborn, stubborn woman.
“Wait.” She faced Driscoll. “Is that why the king of Apolis called that conclave? Is that what he wanted to tell all the rulers?”
Driscoll nodded. “And it doesn’t sound like it went well. The frost queen stormed out.”
“Because she’s in denial. But why?” Emory said. “To defeat this threat, we’re going to need all the courts to band together.”
I agreed, but I’d have never been so brazen to say something like that out loud. Not when she employed me, held the key to my future—and was known to imprison those who spoke against her. All the rulers of Arathia were bad about sweeping things under the rug, ignoring threats, but the frost queen might have been the worst of them all.
“We’ve found where Spirit Shadow was trapped,” Driscoll said. “This is huge. And also really bad. Especially because the only people with this information are currently in a crypt somewhere in the Deadlands with a giant wolf who’s probably going to wake soon and be very grumpy—and hungry.”
Emory swiped the dust from her pants. “Well let’s just hope our magic returns before that happens.”
“Let me know if it does. I’m exhausted and tired of you two and your bickering. I’m going to take a nap,” Driscoll lay down and rolled over. “Let me know if wolfy wakes up.”
“You can sleep too,” Emory said to me. “I’ll keep watch.”
“I’m not tired.” I should have been, but my mind was racing with theories, reeling from all the information Driscoll had just shared.
“Me neither,” Emory said.
The sound of Driscoll’s snores filled the crypt, his chest already rising and falling in a slow rhythm.
Perfect. So it was just me and the white rabbit, then.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
EMORY
Perfect. Just me and the bone collector, who was quickly becoming the pain-in-my-ass bone collector. I could’ve probably come up with a cleverer insult if my brain hadn’t felt like mush after Driscoll’s revelation.
He slept soundly, cuddling with the wolf, which was a weird turn of events, while Maverick and I sat in complete silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
Maverick stared at the ground, brows furrowed, so I could only see the top of his short black hair. Rays of green lit up the crypt as ribbons undulated through the purple sky so far above. My magic was growing stronger, but at this point, it might be safer to stay here. The thought of going back up into that unknown, strange world terrified me.
I drew my knees to my chest.
Maverick Von Lucas. Over the last week, we’d been constantly moving, trying to get that bolt, running from the white wolf, then falling straight into the Deadlands.
But here in this cave, without anything threatening me, I could breathe and... feel the tension of the situation creeping over me.
In the past, I’d sit with the bone collector in silence and feel so at ease. I could spend hours talking to him. Had done both those things multiple times. But doing either of those things with Maverick Von Lucas? I didn’t know how.
I squirmed, trying to get comfortable.
“It’s hard to rest when you’re just sitting there staring at me,” Maverick said from across the space, shifting and stretching his long legs out in front of him with a groan. He lifted his hand, to scratch his jaw, blood coating it.
“Damnit,” he said, examining his fist, skin ripped and seeping.
It must’ve gotten cut open when we’d fallen. With all the adrenaline pumping from our discovery, I could understand how he hadn’t noticed yet. I stood and crossed the space, kneeling in front of him, grabbing his hand—bits of raw flesh hanging from it—cradling it in my own. It had been on instinct, natural. Yet I realized a moment too late what I’d done.
