“Remind her that I can sever her head with one bite,” Andarna growls, the sound higher than Tairn’s menacing rumble.
“I will not. What does Tairn tell us?”
“We don’t eat our allies,” she mumbles, but there’s a distinct tap of her talons against the rock floor.
“Great. Why they stuck me with you three, I’ll never know. You’d think one of us would have a good mage light down.” Cat removes her bow, then swings her pack from her back and rummages past the full quiver to pull out a small, unlit torch.
“Are you kidding me?” I gawk as she brings a piece of wood no larger than my palm from the bag, shakes her head, and reaches for another. “You carry one of those around with you?”
“Obviously.” Cat digs into her bag again. “The fact that you don’t says that you haven’t been appropriately scared of the dark yet. Shit, I can’t find the fire rune Maren made.”
“You all trade runes?” Visia stares in open shock.
“And you call yourselves a family. Of course we share. Whoever can make it, does. Then we all trade so everyone is equally equipped.” Cat shakes her head and stands, muttering a curse. “I can’t find it.”
“That’s…brilliant,” I admit. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You’re used to hoarding power,” she says with a dismissive shrug. “Not sharing it. Now, unless someone has an idea for fire—”
“Got it.” I yank off my gloves, then stuff them into one pocket and pull my conduit from the other, beckoning a trickle of my power to rise. It tingles, then burns as it flows down my hand, through my fingers, and into the conduit. The tendrils of energy light our immediate surroundings.
“That’s so awesome.” Visia smiles. “Can all of you do that?”
“No. It just hums for most of us. Glad to see you’ll have all the light you need.” Sarcasm drips from Cat’s voice.
“Take it,” I order Sloane.
“I’d rather live.” She puts her hands up.
“If I thought it was going to kill you, I’d hand it to Cat.” I hold the conduit out to her.
Cat snorts, but I think there was a note of laughter there.
“Good point.” Sloane takes the conduit, and I concentrate on keeping the energy connected.
“Back up three steps. Good, another two,” I tell her, and my fingers tremble as she does, stretching my signet.
“Wow,” Visia whispers.
“Stick the torch into the energy, Cat.”
“You think that’s safe?” she asks.
“I have no clue, but I’m game to try if you are.” I keep focused on the conduit, on the flow of energy, on the heat I keep checked by controlling the door to Tairn’s power.
Kira clicks her tongue in a series of sounds I’ve become accustomed to but have no hope of ever understanding.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” Cat mutters, then lowers the torch until it catches fire.
I immediately drop my hand, cutting off the power, and I send a prayer of thanks to Dunne that it worked. Felix is probably going to have my head on a pike tomorrow at lessons. “I’ll take it. Thanks, Sloane.”
Sloane hands the conduit back like it might explode.
“Damn,” Cat says, glancing from the torch, to the conduit, to me. “I hate that you’re so…”
“Badass?” Sloane suggests, smiling in a way that reminds me of her brother.
“Powerful,” Cat admits, looking away before slipping her pack back on, changing hands with the torch instead of passing it off.
“It’s not the power making that possible,” I tell her, channeling into the conduit so it lights up again and marching into the darkness. “It’s the control.”
“Yeah, well, I kind of loathe that, too,” she mutters, catching up to walk at my side.
“A rare moment of honesty. I’ll take it.” We move into the cave, which seems to widen with every step we take. “They paired us because I’m supposedly the most powerful rider in the squad,” I tell her, ignoring her muttered response. “But you’re better at runes. We might not compliment each other, but we complement each other.” I smile despite the darkness we’re walking into. “Get it? With an E instead of the I.”
Cat looks at me like I’ve just grown a third arm, and the torch starts to flicker.
There’s a breeze.
“Are you telling scribe jokes?” Sloane asks, a couple of steps behind us, Visia at her side.
“Jesinia would think it’s funny,” Visia offers like she’s trying to save me.
“Jesinia is a scribe,” Sloane notes.
The cave opens up about twenty feet in, a vast tunnel forking to the left.
“Apparently there’s a much easier way to get into this cave,” Cat mutters.
