Page 73 of Storm of Shadows

I glare at him.

“What?”

Before I can scold him, Taria speaks.

“Caya,” she says, her golden eyes flicking open. The priestess pushes herself onto her feet. “Don’t go.”

“Why not?” Caya challenges, folding her arms across her chest. “We don’t know where he is, nor do we know what monstrosities lurk in these woods.”

“It is for this very reason that you mustn’t go alone.”

“But Juron is out there!” Caya thrusts a finger at the trees. “He’s my brother—the only family I have in this world!”

A glimmer of pain flashes across the priestess’s serene face. The fleeting emotion vanishes so quickly I can’t be certain whether I imagined it. “He’s like family to me too,” Taria says softly, her voice barely audible over the wind roaring through the trees. “All I’m saying is that you mustn’t go alone. Let me come with you.”

I scoop Zephyr from my feet and rise from the rock I’m sitting on. The last thing we need right now is to split up and lose each other in these woods. Even if we stay together, finding Juron will have us drifting farther from the main path weaving through the Ghost Woods and possibly losing our way.

“I’ll come with you,” I say.

“What an excellent idea, mortals,” Natharius says. “Let us go gallivanting into these woods at the dead of night when all the ghosts and ghouls have come out to play.”

“Why do you care?” I demand. “I thought you spent your every waking moment wishing me to drop dead?”

“That’s true. The sooner you die, the sooner I may return to the Abyss.”

“Then what are you complaining about?”

“Very well,” he says, standing and straightening the creases from his dark tunic. “I look forward to seeing how long it takes for you to get yourselves killed.”

twenty-three

Wegatherourbelongingsfrom the glade and divide Juron’s things between us. Noticing Natharius carries nothing, I offer him a broad smile and hold out Juron’s bow and quiver. “This is for you.”

His eyes narrow, glancing between me and the weapons. “Why would I want these?”

“Because you’re not carrying anything else,” I reply. “And because I say so.”

Grumbling various curses and ways of torturing me under his breath, Natharius takes the bow and quiver and slings them across his back.

With our camp cleared, we start through the trees, heading deeper into the woods and farther from the safety of the path.

The mist is denser in this part of the woods. A howl comes from deep within the trees, ringing out like distant thunder. My skin crawls. Though it at first sounds like a wolf, the howl is too low and guttural.I don’t allow myself to imagine what else it might be. I instead focus on the back of Taria’s golden robes as she and Caya lead the way through the trees.

As irritating as he is, I’m grateful for Natharius’s presence behind me. Being sandwiched between the future Grand Priestess of Selynis and the Void Prince of Pride makes me feel marginally better about wandering through these ungodly woods.

Caya stops at a tree stump and scans the area. A layer of frost covers the stump’s bark, and cobwebs hang from the surrounding branches, dancing in the wind and twinkling in the low light. “Here,” she says. “This is where I lost him.”

“Maybe we can find footprints?” I suggest. An idea strikes me, and I turn to the Void Prince. “Or maybe if you have something he won’t mind parting with, Natharius can use a tracking spell to pinpoint his location.”

“That will be of no use,” Natharius interjects. “The spell will only show an image of the idiot wandering past trees which look identical to the ones around us. Pinpointing his location will be impossible from that alone.”

“But it could help,” I protest. “And we might be lucky enough to spot a landmark or two.” Or if he’s dead, then we’ll know for certain. I don’t say that thought aloud.

Caya’s nose wrinkles. “I have no use for your heinous magic anyway, demon.”

Natharius offers her a lavish smile, pleased he won’t have to lower himself to use his magic to find her brother.

“Let’s start by looking for footprints and any other sign of him,” Taria says.

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