Page 82 of Path of the Dark
Ninia made her way through a sea of stained hide tents.
She needed some time alone. She’d grown up spending a lot of time on her own, and as such was comfortable with solitude. It was wearing to be constantly in the midst of a crowd. Apart from at night, when she crawled into her tiny one-person tent, she never had time alone with her thoughts.
The council had gone well, although the only unanswered question was Gael and his host of enchanters. They were an unknown quantity. Ninia knew about Stynix, and its dangers to one’s health, but she also knew that it could make an enchanter fearsomely powerful. Perhaps she could take on one or two of these enchanters—but a whole legion?
Ninia clenched her fists by her sides and quickened her pace.
Everyone was relying on her. If the siege went ill, it would be her fault. She didn’t want to let the people of Thûn—or the Rithmar army—down.
Ninia slipped past the perimeter, where a line of pitch torches now burned. Thunder rumbled once more, closer now. The air had a rich smell, not unlike when Ninia gathered the Light. She allowed herself a wry smile as she remembered her experiments, back when she’d lived in The Swallow Keep. She’d tried to keep them hidden, especially from her bodyguard, Mira. But on one occasion she’d set fire to the curtains in her room. The entire chamber had smelled like a thunderstorm afterward.
“Miss!” One of the guards called out to her as she strode away, toward the copse of beech trees that lined the highway. “Don’t wander far, night is almost upon us.”
“I’ll be back shortly,” Ninia called back, injecting an imperious note into her voice. “Worry not.”
Entering the stand of trees, she let out a slow, relieved breath. The woodland had a calm, soothing presence. Breathing in the rich smell of soil and vegetation, Ninia felt her tension melt away. A few yards in, she lowered herself onto a fallen log and closed her eyes.
Veldoras lay close now. The last time she’d been there her family had all been alive. Now it was an occupied city—one that needed to be liberated.
She’d tried to resist it, but the truth was that she couldn’t abandon her people.
With each passing furlong that they inched south, she found her thoughts returning to The City of Tides. She remembered the view from her tower window over the peaked roofs of the city, the way sunlight glittered off the mud of the Brinewater Canal at low-tide, and the chime of morning bells, calling locals to market.
She had to go home.
Ninia sat there for a while, her thoughts churning. Thunder rumbled again, this time overhead, and rain started to patter down. She opened her eyes and glanced up. The light had almost completely faded now. It was time to return to camp.
She’d lingered deliberately, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dusk Imps like she had days earlier. Ever since then, she’d been on the alert for other creatures. But she’d seen none. She hadn’t said anything to Asher about the incident in the end, deciding to keep it to herself.
But as she rose to her feet, she caught the whiff of a familiar smell.
The tang of hot iron wafted through the trees. It was the odor of a smith’s forge.
Ninia remembered the first time she’d ever smelled that odor. She and Mira had fled Veldoras and were trying to make it to the village of Deeping. On the forest road, they’d encountered this smell. Shortly after, a horde of shadow creatures had chased them.
Ninia tensed. It seemed that she’d gotten her wish.
Shadow creatures must be nearby, but she couldn’t see or hear them.
Eyes straining in the gloaming, she peered into the shadows—and then she saw mist snaking across the ground toward her. It was fine and milky, and moved as if pushed by a brisk wind. The mist reached her, curling around her ankles.
Ninia’s pulse started to race. Instinct told her to back away, turn, and flee back to camp. And yet she stood her ground, waiting.
The Hiriel appeared shortly after. There were three of them. Tall and ethereal, with tattered white cloaks that floated around them as if they were suspended in water, the shadow creatures drifted toward her. Ninia studied them, taking in the antlers that perched upon their heads, their milky, featureless faces, and pin-prick eyes that burned like twin stars.
Her throat constricted, and her spine tingled. She couldn’t let them see her fear though. She had to stay strong.
They knelt before you once, Ninia reminded herself.Face them down.
But then all three Hiriel stretched out long, spidery arms, reaching toward her.
