Page 112 of Antiletum
“There’s plenty. Wanna go feed one to the Heartstone?”
“I’m in a hurry,” I state, clutching the small pack in my hand and making for the window.
“Val. You can’t leave right now. You’re not yourself.”
“I can. I am.”
“You’re not going to fly during the day right? You look like fucking death. At least rest until tonight,” he says with alarming concern, but I’m at the window, unlatching it to let myself out. “Valledyn!”
Ignoring him, I’ve already shifted, grabbing my pack out of the air with my talons before it hits the ground.
The trip is long and arduous.
I haven’t been to theVulpesborders in years, and never this far north. Required focus to not lose my way is a balm, giving me a much less dreadful subject to occupy my mind that doesn’t have hazel eyes speckled with blue.
Forced to hunt and rest more than I would like to, our meager bodies require food and sleep for some reason. That’s no exception in my owl form. Not that I’m able to really absorb either. My stomach is tied in intricate knots like a knowledgeable sailor saw to them himself.
At least I have no need to shift after hunting, letting digestion take its intended, natural course. Best not to ruminate on expelling pellets as a man too much. I certainly try not to.
By the time the landscape begins to change beneath me—plains, knolls, forests, and minor mountains transitioning to behemoths capped with snow—I’m spent. Lost to the overwhelming scent of pine. I can’t remember the last time I flew this long, this hard, staying as my owl for so long. Days on end.
I generally avoid going for extended periods without a shift. Unless I’m stuck for various reasons. Perilous injuries. Or (years ago) malnutrition and desperation to survive an Omnitas winter.
The tiny house I seek, hidden in the mountains within theVulpesborders, is a sight of pure salvation.
I shift when it’s in view, nearly tumbling to the ground. A shiver wracks my spine, temperatures much cooler in the high altitude compared to Omnitas. White mist shrouds my lips on an exhale. Instead of donning my clothes, I stroll to the house. Not bothering to knock, I waltz right in.
Expectations not at all met, there’s no one inside.
Xavien, a high ranking member ofSuredeisfromVulpesis, indeed, not sitting at the table, whittling away at some hunk of wood. Where he has been since shortly before my father died, waiting for me and my wife.
With a frown, I glance around the rustic space.
“Wonderful,” I breathe. I’m too tired for this.
Ears strained, I listen for sounds that don’t belong. Nothing presents.
Still, Xavien’s absence is concerning. He’s been holed away since his very meticulously faked death. Biding his time like the rest of us. After the full magnitude of precariousness regarding the Heartstones was brought to light, a sizable group of offerings was smuggled out here to Xavien. Ready to be fed to theVulpesHeartstone when it joins theNoctuaon this side of life once again. Until we can raise the final inPanthera, breaking the bind ofvinculumand Ellden clocks.
Not to mention, he would have been able to hand guide me directly to the den theVulpesHeartstone is tucked away in where the first sly, clever fox was born.
Abandoning the desolate house, I make my way to the caves behind it. Checking to see if the first round of sacrifices have also disappeared. Winding through the narrow strips of emptiness cut through rock, a stench starts to hit me: the rot of dead bodies.
It isn’t quite so cold in the insulated caves to stifle the reek of decay. Doesn’t take long before I stumble upon a heap of corpses. From the look of things, they may have succumbed to cannibalism when their jailer quit coming to feed them.
My mouth waters at the cloying scent of death. The surge of necromancy scratching at my skin.Deos, I want my wife. Want her hand in mine, bringing our magic together.
In my rush to leave, I didn’t tuck away a few precautionaryantiletumtablets like I usually carry around for moments such as this.
“Fucking fuck!”
They were right there, hidden away in my safe at Greystone. Easily accessible.
Turning on my heel, enraged, I leave the cave.
So much for rest. Urgency is guiding me, just knowing that everything is amiss.
It takes a lot of effort at the mouth of the cave to shift again and fly into the wind. But time is not on my side. Weaving through trees, I watch for markers I was informed of by my brother and Rainah, a map of the landscape leading me to the den. I have to circle back a few times, given how weakened and out of sorts I am.
