Page 190 of Wolf Caged
I glanced at her, meant only to briefly check on her, but she snared my gaze and filled my mind with thoughts of our moment in the cave. What power this little wolf wielded over me. I had held her so close and so tightly as she had slumbered, keepingwatch over her as the storm had raged outside the cave, ensuring she was safe.
Afraid to let her go.
I had never feared in all my years, in all the battles I had fought that might have claimed my life, as I had in these short few months with her.
She eyed the piles of bones as we picked our way between them, whispering, “I can’t sense anyone. Not a soul.”
It reassured her, so I did not mention my theory that a lich might be capable of hiding from our senses, using the veil of death to conceal themselves. My court necromancers were not capable of such a thing, but they were not as old nor as powerful as the one we might face in this tower.
When we reached the arched door, I tugged Saphira closer to me.
It was open.
I signalled for her to be silent and laid the flat of my free hand against the crumbling wooden door, and carefully eased it open, pushing back the layer of glittering grey sand that covered the floor. It had piled up beneath the staircase that tracked up the curved wall too, and even coated some of the steps.
Steps made of more bones.
I glanced at Saphira to check on her and caught the fear in her eyes as she looked at those bones.
And squeezed her hand again.
Her blue eyes lifted to mine and she forced a tight smile.
I nodded to her dagger as I drew my sword, and she gripped it and pulled it from its sheath, holding it in her right hand. I was right-handed myself, but I could fight almost as well with my left, and I was damned if I would relinquish her hand to wield the weapon in my stronger one.
Sand trickled down from the point where the steps met a floor above us and Saphira looked ready to attack it as she tensed beside me, brandishing her dagger.
I pointed to the arched window close to the top of the steps, one that had a frame of bones criss-crossing it, the glass long gone, only shards of it remaining, trying to tell her it was only the wind that continued to scour the Wastes that had disturbed the sand.
Wind that might be a problem if the lich was home.
Dust from the sandstorm made the air hazy, the magic it contained dampening mine, working against me.
Good thing I was skilled with a blade as well as magic.
I tugged Saphira forwards, my steps stealthy as we ascended the bones to the first floor. I readied my weapon as I peeked to my right as it came into view and relaxed a notch when I saw only ancient, worn furniture in the large circular room. The bed was decaying, the black blanket on it rotting away, and a layer of dust covered the wooden chairs and table.
Saphira exhaled behind me as she saw the state of the room, her grip loosening a touch as we crossed it to the next set of steps. It slowly tightened as we ascended, her trailing behind me, her breathing loud in my ears as I focused on her, on that sound that told me she was alive.
Safe for now.
Flashes of a dark room crossed my vision as I led her ever upwards, of a sliver of light that stuttered, and trembling breaths sounded in my ears, far too loud.
I banished that vision from my mind, fixing my focus on my task—retrieve An’sidwain, see Saphira safely home.
I tiptoed to peek at the next floor, making sure we were alone before I continued to follow the stairs up to it. A laboratory of some kind. Wooden shelves housed colourful dusty bottles and vials, and musty tomes with yellowed pages. A curvedbench took up half of the wall, covered with flecks of sand and equipment—rusty tools, more books, what looked like some kind of clamps, and a bowl of runes and bones.
Saphira stopped dead.
I looked at her and tracked her wide gaze to the centre of the room.
To a wooden table with chains and shackles attached to it, the surface scarred and stained. Blood. I looked at the tools again and then the wooden buckets lined up beneath the bench. The lich had brought his victims here to rid them of their corporeal flesh and turn them into his puppets.
That dark room flickered across my eyes again, that rough panicked breathing scraping in my ears.
Followed by screams.
I gritted my teeth so hard they hurt and clung to Saphira’s hand, my heart pounding as a war erupted within me, one side demanding I take her far away from here, from danger, while the other demanded I press onwards, towards vengeance.
