Page 57 of Forged By Heart and Claws
Helping me to my feet, Vad surveyed the area.Do you need to rest more now?
I shook my head.No. We've got to keep moving.It would take a day or so for me to recharge, and that kind of delay wasn't an option.
Do you need me to carry you?The concerned light in his eyes cut me, and a warmth spread in my chest at the sincerity in his question.
No. I promise, I'm fine,I linked back to him, smiling despite the pain and exhaustion.
He scoffed slightly, narrowing his eyes. But that gentle affection surged through our bond.We will have to redefine that term.
Later.We've got to get through this first.I straightened my posture, ready to take on the next challenge despite wishing with all my heart this situation could be done and Vad and I could disappear into one another's arms, someplace cozy and warm.
Down below, the wolves were still making noise, determined to find a way up. My foot was still throbbing, making it clear that it wasn’t fully healed. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been prior. Luckily, we’d had enough bandages for all of us, and we took off walking.
Darkness swallowed us as we moved forward. After a bit, I couldn’t keep track of time. Hours or ten minutes might have passed, and the twisting path seemed endless, every step stretching into eternity. The glowing hair vials offered faint light in a pinch, but they barely reached a foot ahead. Not enough if the wolves could appear out of nothing.
The howls started up again intermittently, then steadily, as if the wolves were tracking us. We quickened our pace and changed directions several times, Vad choosing the higher ground and narrow stone paths above ravines. I had no idea how he was navigating, but I followed without question.
Elara was lagging, but her expression never wavered. Whether the medicine was helping or she was driven by pure willpower, I didn’t know. But she kept walking, just like the rest of us.
It felt like we were clawing through a never-ending nightmare.
Eventually, exhaustion weighed me down, every muscle in my body trembling. My foot throbbed in time with my pulse, and even Vad’s steps slowed. He lifted one hand. “Here. We stop. Just for a bit.”
Relief crashed over the group like a wave. No one protested.
We slid down against the tunnel wall, our gear hitting the ground with dull, exhausted thuds. My body screamed as I lowered myself, grit grinding into every tear in my leggings, but I didn’t care. Someone passed me a strip of dried meat that was as hard as stone, dry, nearly flavorless, but I chewed anyway. My lips cracked and bled, the iron tang flooding my mouth, but I ignored it and continued eating.
Our circumstances weren’t sustainable. And we all knew it.
The oil lamp was low, barely a third of the fuel remaining. If it burned like Earth oil, we had four, maybe five hours of light left. And that was being generous.
“How much longer until we reach an exit?” The words scraped my throat like sandpaper.
Everyone stilled. Even Thalen and Silus looked to Vad now, their expressions tight.
Vad surveyed the passage, eyes narrowing. “A couple hours, maybe. We’ll rest for one. The light should hold.”
It wasn’t a guarantee. I was haunted by the thought of being lost down here forever while Aureline assassins attacked my sister.
No one argued. Quen lowered the lamp’s wick to preserve what oil she could, then curled in close beside Elias, her damaged wing draped over her chest. The rest of us followed suit. There was no room to stretch out, so we pressed in shoulder to shoulder, backs to cold stone, as the shadows swallowed the space around us.
No one talked. The only sound was the occasional shuffle of bandages being changed, the wet rasp of breath pulled through clenched teeth, or a quiet, pained grunt when someone moved wrong.
There was no comfort, no safety. Only silence that seemed to stretch forever.
When Vad roused us, it felt too soon. My body ached, my muscles stiff, and my wolf whimpering inside me. We choked down the last bites of our rations and drained the little water we’d brought with us.
Placing a hand on my shoulder, Vad said, “It’ll be all right. There’s water deeper in this cave.”
I believed him, but it was hard to find hope with what surrounded us.
We continued on, time measured by the slow bleed of the lamp oil and the dull echo of our footsteps. The light weakened, casting ever fuzzier, flickering shadows on the damp walls, while fatigue clung to us like a second skin.
Then I caught a sound and a luxurious scent.
Something low and rushing, with clean moisture in the air.
“Water,” I breathed.
