Page 18 of Oracle of Ruin

The message was clear. The longer I take to find them, the more parts Mavis will send until I do. If I don’t find her soon, there might not be anything left of Vera to save.

“Wouldn’t Mavis need Veraalive? She won’t do anything that can kill her, right?” Blaine stumbles over a tree root before righting himself. He struggles but keeps pace with my quick walking.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Not if she can’t get anything from her. She would rather no one have her if she can’t, and you know Vera.”

Blaine swears. We both know Vera won’t crack. She’ll die first.

“Where have we yet to look?”

“The whole southern half, inner portion, and northeastern.”

“Let’s move inward then and cover the outer south tomorrow.” Blaine’s voice is commanding, and I oblige. We’ve grown accustomed now to staying armed at all times in case of an attack. Without Vera’s magic, all we can do is slow the Kijova, but overall, we’re powerless and defenseless in the face of their power.

I flip my dagger between my fingers and point it towards the inner southern portion of our boundaries. Blaine follows the pointed edge and we trek further into the mountains. We keep silent, even our breathing too loud as we await any ambush.

A scream rattles the trees moments later. Blaine rushes towards the sound, but I grab his arm in time and pull him behind a tree with me.

“It isn’t her. Just her voice.”

Moments later, a Kijova comes crashing through the brush, its jaw unhinged and snout in the air. It bares its teeth before screaming again. Months later, and the sound still wrenches my heart. The moment Tanja died immortalized in Vera’s screams through them. I can see the gooseflesh prickling Blaine’s arms. He inhales sharply.

Sometimes I forget he knew her too. Blaine, Torin, Tanja, and Vera. They knew each other for years, had helped each other to survive. Vera was his first love and all he has left. Now she’s gone as well.

I wait a moment before the beast leaves before turning to him. “Are you okay?”

Blaine huffs, his hands on his knees. He fixes me with a strange stare. “Did you get hit on the head?”

“What?”

“You’re not being an ass right now,” he wheezes.

I focus on how disappointed Vera would be if I hit him to quell my rising annoyance.

“I’m fine, just…” He pauses momentarily. “When I was drinking, I never really heard it. Like, I heard it, but I never registered it was her. I hadn’t realized that was the moment Tanja died. It’s just hitting me now that Vera had to see that and be there when it happened.”

Silence falls between us again as we continue onwards. Our breath crystallizes in front of us in short huffs, soon to dissipate into the crisp air. We follow any broken tracks we can find until we stumble into a small town that looks relatively untouched.

We pass an old tavern, the windows shattered and blood along the walls. There is every sign of a struggle and a fight, and yet something in off.

Blaine peers through the broken-down door into a home. “There’s no bodies,” he says softly. His boots crunch on broken glass behind me and he gasps.

Before I can turn to see what has happened, a cold blade is pressed to my throat and a low voice speaks from behind me. “Turn around slowly and show me your eyes,” the voice growls. It is strained and yet familiar, though I do as it says. When I spin, I find a hooded figure, his face obscured by shadows. When he sees my face, he gasps and turns toward Blaine, who has now also turned, dagger to his throat.

“Rowan? Blaine?” he chokes. “Ruby, drop the blade.”

Blaine and I look on in confusion until both hooded figures lower their weapons. The woman, Ruby, drops her hood, and I recognize her as Tanja’s fiancée. Her once-beautiful face has been scarred by claw marks and she wears an eye patch, but there is no mistaking her.

“Who are you?”

The figure laughs, a strangled sound between a sob and a choke before lowering his hood. Torin grins ear to ear, that familiar loopy and boyish charm coating his weathered features. “You’re alive,” he breathes.

Blaine takes a tentative step forward, his eyes wide as if he’s seen a ghost. Torin opens his arms for an embrace. Blaine stops a pace away, then whirls his fist into Torin’s face.

Torin clutches at his jaw, laughing slightly sardonically. “Good to see you, too, old friend.”

Tears stream down Blaine’s face as he pulls Torin from the ground and crushes him in a hug. Torin’s eyes squeeze shut as if he expected such a reaction and embraces him as well, as if nothing else matters to him.

“We thought you were dead, you bastard,” Blaine hisses. “Five months. Five months!”

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