Page 136 of Stormvein
“She will.” His voice is cool, not cruel exactly, but absolute in a way that still unsettles me despite everything we’ve been through. “She understands the consequences of attempting another escape.”
Two fighters walk over to Lisandra while I watch, untying her from the tree trunk and helping her to her feet. They’re more careful with her than I expected, given her actions yesterday. Their hands are firm but not rough as they check the bindings at her wrists, ensuring they’re secure. One offers a waterskin, which she accepts with a small nod.
I watch this exchange with conflicted emotions. This woman betrayed Sacha. She orchestrated his capture and torture. She held a knife to my throat. The memory of her desperate eyes as she threatened me sends ice through my veins. And yet something about seeing her bound, accepting water with that small, dignified nod, makes my chest tighten uncomfortably.
She made terrible choices, but in her mind, she was protecting Stonehaven. Does that justify what she did? Does her intention matter when the consequences were so devastating? I think of how Sacha looked when we found him in that cage—flayed, branded, infection burning through him.
How different would my choices be if I’d grown up in this world, watched friends die, and lived in fear of discovery?
Does it even matter?
Sacha touches my arm, drawing my attention back to him. “Stay close to me today. No matter what happens.”
“That was our agreement.”
He studies me for a moment, eyes moving over my face. “Yes, it was.” There’s an intensity to his words.
Everyone mounts their horses, forming into the small groups that will approach Blackstone Ridge from different directions. Sacha and I will travel with Varam and two others, positioning ourselves on the high ground overlooking the meeting place. The largest group will circle to the western approach, ready to move in and grab Lisandra after she delivers Sacha’s message.
As we ride, the sun begins to rise over the mountain peaks, casting long shadows across the ground. Sacha sends his raven ahead, scouting our path. The mist stalker remains inside me, but I can feel it stirring, responding to the tension building.
“Authority scouts.” Sacha’s voice is soft. “Three of them, moving along the eastern slope.”
Varam signals immediately, directing our small party into a sheltered ravine until they pass. We wait in tense silence, horses standing patient and still as the minutes stretch. My heart is pounding so loudly, I’m certain it will give away our position.
“Clear,” Sacha says eventually. His familiar must have confirmed that the scouts have moved on.
We resume our approach, more cautious now. The landscape grows increasingly rugged as we near the ridge. Rocky outcroppings jut from the earth, sparse trees providing minimal cover, the path narrowing between stone walls that rise on either side. The air grows thinner, colder as we ascend, carrying the mineral scent of stone and dry earth. Each step of our horses dislodges small cascades of pebbles that sound deafening in the otherwise silent approach.
The black stones that give the ridge its name come into view, huge formations of obsidian-dark rock that seem to absorb the morning light rather than reflect it. Even from a distance, there’s something ominous about them, as if they’re watching our approach with ancient patience.
“We leave the horses here,” Sacha says when we reach a small hollow sheltered by an overhanging rock. “We need to go the rest of the way on foot.”
I dismount, legs stiff from riding, and pull out my waterskin. Sacha moves to my side as I drink, and holds out a small knife.
“What’s this?” I take it from him, frowning.
“Your control over your power is getting better, but still unpredictable, and we haven’t had a chance to teach you how to use it to defend yourself. Keep this tucked into your belt, just in case.”
“Just in case ofwhat?”
He shakes his head. “Remember, no matter what happens, stay hidden.”
Something about his tone raises red flags in my mind. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His fingers lift and brush over my cheek. “Sereven is bound to have the crystal weapon with him.”
The image of that terrible blue light tearing through Sacha’s shadows rises to the front of my memory.
“If he uses it.” His fingers move beneath my chin, and he tips my head up, meeting my eyes. “Whenhe uses it, don’t interfere. No matter what you see.”
“But—”
“Promise me, Ellie.”
The intensity in his voice stops my protest. He’s not trying to exert control, he’s trying to keep me safe.
“I promise to try. That’s the best I can offer. You would say the same if our positions were reversed.”
