Page 87 of A Tale of Treachery

My eyes went wide. His words were slurred, but he was still awake.

He threw his arm out to grip me, stumbling with the motion as his body went limp against mine.

I huffed out a breath of relief, the loose strands of my hair blowing about.

He was finally out.

I pushed his body off mine, and he fell to the floor in a pile of limbs and drool. Throwing my scholar’s cloak over the scandalous outfit, I plopped down on the floor in a cross-legged position and closed my eyes.

I needed to find Ryken and Fin. I was running out of time. I needed their help, because there was no way to rescue the captives on my own.

Focusing on my breathing was easy as I followed the pull of the tether in my chest that connected me to Ryken. It shone in my mind’s eye, a bright silver string of thread intertwined with a radiant golden color that trailed from me to him.

This cord wasn’t just any regular cord—it linked us, and it was what I’d been using to track him each night. Tonight, he wouldn’t get away.

With my eyes closed, I could see it clearly, the strings knotted and woven together, creating a dense material, something unbreakable and strong. It glowed.

The cord grew taut, and I gasped at the responding tug that drew it tighter and pulled me up from my seated position. My eyes flew wide open at the sensation, and I looked down at where the string once was, finding it invisible but not forgotten. The braided cable wrenched me in the direction that would lead to my ultimate destination.

I followed the fiber down the stairs, out through the palace, past the kingdom’s walls, into the Scourged Forest, and past the clearing once shared with my best friend. The cord never seemed to end, even as I walked through the forest to Mystics Tavern.

I stopped at the tavern to take a breath, but the place was dead and desolate. The tavern was dark. The fae lights that had illuminated the nook with a festive atmosphere were gone, casting the structure in a pitch-black shroud. Gone were the pookas, the pixies, the witches and mages.

It was a ghost tavern.

I took a deep breath. It was obvious what had happened here. Aiden’s collection must have somehow happened upon the tavern, despite the secrecy it had always maintained.

I could only hope I hadn’t led them here.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to picture the cord, but it had grown slack, as though someone had taken a knife to it. The cord was braided too tightly to be cut, but there was only the barest whisper of connection. This was usually when Ryken would take notice that I was tracking him and flee.

I couldn’t let that happen again.

When I opened my eyes, it was gone once again, like always. Ryken could momentarily sever the connection, but he couldn’t destroy it completely.

So I shut my eyes and followed the dissipating cord through the forest, blindly stumbling across rocks and branches, occasionally getting a face full of crystal leaves while being bodily checked by trees. I walked with my hands in front of me to get a feel for whatever objects lay ahead, following the cord as far as it led.

I sensed where the path ended, the damaged threads that signaled his attempt to destroy whatever connection lay between us, and opened my eyes.

The cavernous yawning of a cave met my vision, black rock that blended into the night, concealing it in the shadows. I could feel it, could sense that this was where Ryken was.

I entered the cave, my footsteps echoing throughout the cavernous space and bouncing off the walls. The sound intensified with each step. I ducked when the ceiling dipped low, barely avoiding the sharp stalactites that hung from above, deadly as the tip of a sword.

“You managed to find me.”

I whipped around in the direction of Ryken’s baritone and stood there silently, taking in his crouched form. He leaned against the wall as if the days away had taken a toll on his body, mind, and soul. His hair was slightly longer on the top, bedraggled and messy. His facial hair had grown into the barest shadow of silver, and dark circles crowded his under eyes.

“I did. It was difficult, but I need your help.”

He laughed, rising to his full height as he walked toward me, hovering over me at a slight angle, his body a hairsbreadth away from mine. He raised his hand and brought it close, as if he were about to caress my face, before he tugged it away as if thinking better of the idea.

“If I wanted you to find me, I wouldn’t have made it so difficult,” he drawled.

It had been difficult, and gods, how I’d tried. I imagined him taking a knife to it each and every time I touched it, savagely hacking at the cords to damage my ability to find him.

“And you seek me out for help. Not to apologize or explain, but because there is something thatyou need. It’s always about you, Dahlia, isn’t it?”

“I shouldn’t have to apologize or explain. You know exactly why I had you sent away, because if I didn’t, you would have been thrown into the dungeon. You would have been stuck as a prisoner with no way out. So stop nursing your fragile ego and help me,” I demanded, my voice like venom.

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