CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The next morning begins early. Azura is through my door before Dorian and I have a chance to compose ourselves. We sit up immediately, still dazed from sleep but clearly having shared a bed as well as each other’s arms. Azura halts in the doorway, and a heavy sack in either hand drops to the floor.

My face growing hot, I leap away from Dorian and out of the bed. Smoothing my hair, I try to appear nonchalant about the whole incident. It would do no good to explain that Dorian and I were chaste companions the entire night. When I glance at him still beneath the blankets, he tries to hide a roguish grin by rubbing his hand against his unshaven chin—a gesture he repeats whenever he is nervous.

“What’s going …?” Liam walks through the flap door. He need only glance from my red face to Dorian in my bed to draw a conclusion. He can’t help a smile before striding back out again, only too willing to let Azura handle the situation.

“Oriana …” she finally begins, regaining her voice, “once you are”—she searches for the right word—“decent, then we’ll be meeting at the dining hall. I’ve asked the cook to prepare an early meal for us.” She snatches up one of the packs in confusion, as if unable to recall dropping it. “The other bag is yours; don’t forget it.” With that she dashes out after Liam. I have to give her credit for not losing her temper.

Dorian chuckles. “Well that was awkward.” He gets to his feet and slips into his sandals and stretches his arms overhead. “Good, I could use some breakfast.”

Even though I am shaking my head in disapproval, I can’t melt the smile from my lips.

A few moments later, I have gathered my cape and satchel and am heading to the dining hall with Dorian at my side. I’m hoping it will be enough time for Azura to have forgotten her earlier interruption. When I see her standing at the doorway, hands posed on her hips and her foot tapping impatiently, I think otherwise. I hope it has not ruined our growing friendship. After all, it was only days ago that we were at odds with one another.

“Sorry … I didn’t mean to make you wait.” I speak first, hoping to be the one to diffuse the tension.

Azura’s green eyes are piercing. “It’s not you I’m waiting for.” Her response brings instant relief. “It’s that lazy Finn and those two slugs he has for friends.”

I laugh to myself, heading past her into the dining hall where a basket of freshly baked breads awaits. Mixed fruits and nuts, along with boiled eggs, are also laid out for us.

“Dorian! You don’t expect to eat, do you? You’re not even going anywhere!” Dorian and I turn to find Azura peering in through the doorway at us.

“C’mon, there’s plenty here!” He helps himself to a bit of everything, ignoring whatever else Azura has to say. Eventually she gives an exasperated sigh and lets the flap fall shut with a smack. A few minutes later, we hear her again in a series of reprimands, announcing the arrival of Dugan, Finley, and Jagger.

Dorian and I have taken seats on one of the benches halfway down the table. “I’m so glad I’m not them right now,” he mutters. He then pops a whole egg into his mouth.

Finley emerges from the door first, looking even messier than usual. Jagger follows, making no attempt to conceal an expansive yawn. Behind him is Dugan, his sleek black hair neatly pulled back as usual, not a strand out of place. Somehow he manages to ignore Azura, close behind him and still scolding.

“Do you realize how late you three are? I can’t believe you can sleep at a time like this! I don’t know why I even bother letting you come! I’d better see your plates cleaned in under five seconds!” Azura is clearly stressed and makes no efforts to hide it.

The three seem not the least bit fazed about the situation, but I can’t help feeling sorry for them. It is surprising that they have kept silent for so long. Finley gives me a grin as he sits across from Dorian and me with a plate full of food. Azura’s ranting has finally come to an end; she either ran out of things to say or lost her voice.

I return Finn’s smile, but it is also a reaction to my recent thought. Thankfully Azura cannot read minds.

Of their own accord, they finish their meals in moments, picking at any leftover crumbs. Together we deposit the empty dishes at the corner of the room where a tray has been left out. Luckily, Azura finds nothing to disapprove of. As we are gathering our things, Liam walks in through the opposite entrance.

“It’s best we leave now,” he announces simply. We comply without a word, following him out the door and along the lower platform. As the others begin their climb down the main ladder, I hang back.

“Dorian …” I cannot think what to say. I want to make so many promises, but I can’t help hesitating.

“Just—please be careful,” he says.

This I can promise, and I nod assuredly, letting him pull me into a close embrace.

As I latch onto the ladder and start down, I take one more look at him, wondering if it is as hard for him as it is for me. Dorian smiles weakly, and I can tell that it is. I look back at the ladder, focusing on the rungs beneath and in front of me. I am trying to concentrate on each step instead of the great task that is still far ahead.

We set out through the forest, away from the shade of the Great Oak and away from the rising sun. As we descend the hill, familiar from when I first arrived, we lose sight of the Great Oak. Apprehension rises within me, surely within us all. It is probably what causes the others to be silent. Yet as our steps continue and the distance from home increases, I begin to relax. Accepting the decision that has brought me this far and visualizing the desperate innocents awaiting our help.

It is a clear morning, save for the occasional cluster of whipped clouds, the last remnants of yesterday’s fog. The wind propels them across the sky, now and again pushing them in front of the bright sun and providing a moment of cool shade. I take a breath as the same wind whips through my hair, picking it up from my shoulders and sweeping it from my face before taking a turn and lashing it forward. The wind finally surges past me, settling my hair neatly upon my back.

I find myself walking beside Azura. She has taken a pace behind the others. Liam walks ahead, Finley, Dugan, and Jagger in step behind him. Azura surveys them with an approving eye. Her nerves have certainly eased now that we are well on our way. I watch her eyes focus on Liam and linger. I chance a question from my recent curiosities.

“I do not know him well, yet he seems so quiet …”

She turns, startled, realizing I have noticed her gaze upon Liam. “Of late? Yes, he has not spoken much to me either. The thought of more deaths is more painful to him than most. It brings bad memories of the past, when he was only a few years old.” Her voice is low, and it is clear that she too is haunted by his memories.

A bird shrieks as it flies overhead, and we are unsettled for a moment. I look back at Azura, who meets my gaze. “What happened to him?” I ask.

“During the time of chaos, many part-bloods were killed. There had come to be so many, and Odon didn’t see value in them. He kept some alive, mainly the young ones to bend to his will. But as in the other bloodlines, he killed many adults. Liam’s parents had heard of the sanctuary at the Great Oak and of Falda, the Winglarion who could show them the way. From what I’ve heard, they had already prepared to slip away to the location where Falda’s son, Tor, would lead them to safety.”

Azura lowers her head, burdened by the knowledge; she concentrates on the ground passing beneath her. “They came across a group of Odon’s guards searching for stragglers and hid in the nearby foliage. You see, Liam was so young then, only just able to use his legs, he had no idea what the situation was. He …” Her gaze finds Liam among the others, his gait forced, his feet barely lifting with each step. Her eyes soften for a moment, and I can see she yearns to relieve his pain.

“He cried out unexpectedly, giving away their location. His father diverted attention while his mother ran for the woods where she knew Tor was waiting. Liam’s father did not make it far before he was downed by an arrow. His mother soon realized she and her son would not make it together. So, she urged Liam to walk forward into safety, shielding him so that he might escape. I suppose I don’t have to explain that neither of his parents survived.”

I feel the searing pain of compassion for the boy, now a young man still dealing with the losses and guilt of his past. “So they saved him … he never went to the University?”

Azura presses her lips together ruefully. “I wish that were true. Unfortunately Liam’s small legs did not carry him far. Perhaps the weight of guilt slowed him down the moment his voice escaped him. For whatever reason, Liam was captured and did live out many years at the University until he escaped just as I did. I think that only made the whole thing worse for him. He not only blames himself for their death, but also that their lives were taken in vain. They had sacrificed, and he failed them.”

“But it wasn’t his fault! He was too young to know! His parents would not want him to live the rest of his life in grief for a mistake made in infancy.”

She raises a hand as if in defense, although I did not mean to attack. “Believe me, I know the truth of it, but he will not see. No matter what I say to him, he will never release the burden. See …”—her eyes flicker toward him—“even now he carries it like a sack of stones.” I watch Liam move slowly forward, fighting each step as I had seen before.

I nod gravely. “It is so sad. Odon has caused so many deaths, but what is far worse is the wreck he’s made of the living.”

“Yes.” Azura sighs. “I don’t know how, but Liam’s managed to live on. I thought his lack of will might ultimately lead to his death, despite how I’ve tried to change him. Still, something keeps him in this life.”

I glance at her, wondering if she truly cannot answer her own question. To me it seems clear that it is Azura herself who keeps him alive. Yet the expression of puzzlement upon her face tells me she still has not figured that out.

Our path leads us to a clearing. Liam heads toward its edge, choosing to use the bordering trees as cover from the open sky.

“Stay close,” he calls back to Azura, and we comply willingly, now that our discussion has ended.

“Look! Up there!” It is Jagger who motions toward a patch of clouds, stepping back into the shade of the nearby trees and waving the rest of us after him.

At first I don’t see anything, merely the burning reflection of the morning sun off the starkness of the cloud. Then as the wind sweeps it aside, I see them. They emerge from the white canvas onto the rich blue of the painted sky. Their billowing white robes and feathered wings blended perfectly into the cloud, rendering them practically invisible. Now they are in clear sight. I count ten Winglarions, specks in the sky but still discernible. They shift the angles of their wings nimbly, using the currents to lift them into greater heights. I gasp as in one motion, together as if one creature they angle into a dive against the wind. The magnificent dive propels them out of sight, behind the treetops that block our view.

“Odon’s winged soldiers,” Finley comments with distaste. “We should be extra careful; their level of activity concerns me. He could be at odds with an enemy half-blood.”

The rest of our trip we remain within the shelter of the forest, avoiding open fields and staying low whenever we crest a hill. By midday we reach the final hilltop, the spot where Dorian and Liam brought Azura and me after escaping the cave. I take a seat beneath the familiar shade of the fruit tree, imagining Dorian beside me offering one of the red orbs. Looking up into its branches, so lean compared to the girth of the Great Oak’s, I notice that there are no more green fruit. The ones that remain have reached their full ripeness, but many more lie rotting on the ground beneath.

There will not be much time to rest before Azura and I enter the caves. But we take some time to open our packs and replenish ourselves with food and drink. I gingerly chew at a slice of bread, spread thickly with a sour berry jam.

Azura sits in silence beside Liam on a mossy patch of ground. Both chew on their lunches, deep in thought. Not far are Finley, Jagger, and Dugan who converse in low tones. Judging by their gestures and occasional glances upward, they are discussing the reappearance of Winglarions.

Our time of refreshment is soon over, and I sense the familiar sting of apprehension. I put away what food I cannot force myself to swallow and lean my pack against the tree’s base. I discard my cloak as well, shrugging it off my shoulders. I know it will slow me down. Azura lays her own beside her pack. Both will be a burden to us once we are within.

Liam leaves our campsite, heading sideways into the woods. When he returns shortly after, he carries a foot-long branch that is thick enough to wrap a hand around comfortably. He coats the top with an oily wax that he has brought inside his satchel. Handing it to Azura, he says, “When you are past the first few guards you will reach a series of black tunnels. You can use this as a torch by lighting it on one of the lamps before then.”

Azura nods; we are both familiar with the set of tunnels that contain no lamps. I make a mental note of the number of tunnels preceding them and then go over the guards, visualizing their stations and counting them inside my mental picture.

“And the Winglarions?” Azura asks hesitantly.

Finley approaches from behind Liam, flanked by Dugan and Jagger. “We’ll keep our eyes upward. You just worry about getting in and out as fast as possible.”

Together, Azura and I give a short nod, perhaps agreeing that it is the only goal our minds can comprehend at the moment. There are too many numbers, steps, and tunnels rolling through my head for me to be able to worry about something else.

The others follow Azura and me to the edge of the forest where the land slopes toward the black opening of the cave. Looking down at it, I cannot decide if it more resembles the pupil of an eye—or a gaping mouth prepared to swallow us.

I realize now more than ever how grateful I am that Azura is beside me, prepared to accompany me the entire distance. I steal a nervous glance in her direction. Her own eyes are turned toward the sky, noting our vulnerability once we leave the forest. I imitate her, scanning the blue expanse splattered with white. As far as I can tell it is clear.

Azura seems satisfied as well, and together we start down the hill. We walk at a brisk pace, unwilling to take the chance that someone is watching us from behind the clouds. Still, it is not solely the fear from above that plagues us, but the approaching hole—the entrance into Odon’s caves.

There is no time to think or change our minds; once the entrance to the abyss looms over us, we have no choice but to enter. The danger from the skies outweighs the danger from within. As I step out of view of the sun’s heated gaze, I’m jolted by the numbing chill of the cave’s eerie breath.