Page 26 of The Spark that Ignites
Emmery’s brows drew together. “What do you mean abandoned?”
“Long story.” Vesper’s attention fixed ahead. “Now this forest is home to all sorts of creatures. They’re a last defence if any humans somehow slipped through.Kennatoo, I suppose. Deimos lets his beasts run free here.”
Her stomach bottomed out. “The flesh-eating kind?”
His slow nod did anything but calm her nerves.
The further they ventured, the colder the woods became. Eyes hidden in the shadows watched them and the ground under Emmery’s boots grew harsher than the crunch of leaves as the scent of acrid grave dirt flooded her senses and slathered her tongue. Body trembling from the temperature drop, Emmery’s ankles rolled on the uneven ground.
Sighing with impatience, Vesper turned, firmly grasped her waist, and lifted her over a short ridge. She scrambled, loose dirt raining down while he ascended with ease, his long strides providing an unfair advantage. As Emmery dusted herself off, she caught the blood draining from his cheeks.
Vesper’s jaw clenched and he breathed, “Don’t look down.”
The urge swept over her, and it took all her restraint not to, but Emmery obeyed, thanking the gods for the obscuring mist hovering at their knees. Squinting through the sun starved shadows, she noted the trees bore deep, jagged grooves. The bark was shaved from trunk, like skin from bone. As if a beast sharpened its claws.
Emmery swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
Distracted, her toe caught a rogue root and sent her careening toward the ground. Vesper snaked an arm around her middle, his long exhale brushing her cheek. Emmery gave him a humbled smile but couldn’t read his expression. Was he angry? It was impossible to see past his cool exterior.
“It would be easier to carry you,” he jested, a toothy grin lighting up his face. “I could toss you over my shoulder.”
There was the obnoxious humour. Her head spun as she righted herself. “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own,” she snapped back, ignoring his outstretched arm, ready for her next stumble. “I wouldn’t be so clumsy if we hadn’t been walking forever. Let’s rest for a moment. My feet are raw from these damn boots.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Her feet did hurt. Emmery dropped her pack, and bliss replaced the burdened weight from her back. Pulling her cloak tighter, she fought off another tremor, her teeth chattering, and stiff, cold fingers aching.
Vesper mumbled a brief, “If you insist.” His bag joined hers as he leaned against a neighbouring tree, scrutinizing her struggle with her canteen lid. He watched her wince after taking a lengthy swig though he didn’t retort with a smart remark.
Emmery propped herself against a tree and rested her head against the cool, rough bark. Her stockings were caked with blood; she was sure of it. After they escaped this endless forest, she would burn these godsforsaken boots.
Busy mulling over Vesper’s comment about the gods' abandonment, she disappeared into her thoughts. It was only when he sucked in a sharp whip of a breath that her attention snapped to him. By then it was too late. She couldn’t make sense of it, his strange reaction, before he wedged her between himself and the tree.
Emmery’s breaths rasped as panic rose and choked her words. Her limbs pinned helplessly under his hold reducing her to a taxidermy butterfly. Was this a trap? Is that why he lured her here? Had he lied?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
A scream clawed up her throat, but Vesper clapped a hand over her mouth, and she was forced to swallow it. How could she have trusted him? Anger barrelled through her, and she shoved his chest with her own, but his rigid body may as well have been a brick wall. His eyes captured hers and, in the stillness, his magic hummed with each thump of his heart.
“Don’t move,” he hissed, his warm breath misting her face.
She wasn’t having it. Every thread of her being shrieked for freedom and she thrashed, her magic leaping to her rescue as sparks snapped from her fingers, singeing the toe of her boot.
“Emmery,” he snarled, his voice low. “Stop.”
A rumble quaked the ground and shook the barren branches overhead.
No, not a rumble.
A growl.
But what kind of monster could make a sound like ... well, likethat?
The chilled breeze carried a staleness of air locked within a stagnant tomb. It circled them, seeping into their marrow, whispering a warning to flee and that whatever was coming—whatever those things were—they were well acquainted with Death. And if they stayed, they would be too.
But with Vesper’s chest blocking her vision, Emmery was left blind to the danger. Yet the quality to that animalistic noise, froze every muscle in her body and she prayed if she stayed motionless, a rodent playing dead, it would lose interest.
Vesper lifted his fist to his mouth and blew into it. When he opened his hand, the air warped and obscured them in an opaque mist as the beastly snarls rose with each predatory footstep. Despite the mist, Vesper used his body as a shield between her and the threat.
The realization sank into Emmery as his magic devoured the air and camouflaged them. Vesper wasn’t trying to hurt her. He was protecting her. Protecting from whateverthatwas.
