12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Vesperon

After stopping for a few hours so I can rest, we continue up the mountain. I feel slightly better after sleeping, but not entirely. This grey is hiding something, I just know it. He can argue it all he wants, but I feel it. It has been my job for so long to protect people from bad things that I can feel when they are around. It is hard to keep it together around him when my mates do not understand. Slate is hiding something from us, meaning we cannot trust him. Yet we need him. This is a dilemma. I am trying hard to put my trust in the universe. That it knows what it is doing, and perhaps this is supposed to happen. Maybe there is a reason he is betraying us, and we do not know what it is yet. But knowing he could befall harm upon my Lexia has me angry. It makes it difficult to think clearly. Even more difficult not to strangle him when he speaks.

Thankfully he has not done much of that since we started moving again. I do not like traveling, especially during the day. It is exhausting and makes me grumpy. I also hate being so far from my mate. I trust the radiant with her, but I would feel better if I were with her—if I could see her. I do not blame them for the decision they made about him staying. It makes sense, though I do not like the thought of it. Still, it is not my fault that I am not as powerful here as I am in my realm.

Though I miss Lexia and hate being away from her, I know keeping her at the house was safer. It is clear the shadows are actively hunting us, and having her out and about gives more opportunity for them to find her, as we do not know where they are lurking.

"There it is!" Slate announces, looking at me over his shoulder with a grin.

I cannot deny he is attractive in his human form, but that does not mean I trust him. It is likely he chooses to look like that so people will trust him. He distracts them with his good looks, and they do not think twice about anything else until it is too late.

I will not fall for his tricks. If there is a way to fulfill this prophecy without taking him on as a mate, I will convince Lexia to do so.

I ignore him and keep moving, and after a few more steps, I spot the house on a peak of the mountain. There is no way a human would be able to make it there, not unless they scaled the side of the cliff. There is no hill to walk up, the mountain looking more like a column than a natural part of the mountain.

"She takes her privacy seriously," I comment.

"Yeah, something like that."

When we reach the base, we walk around as Slate looks along the ground for something. It is on the tip of my tongue to ask him what it is when he shouts, "ah-ha!"

He bends down and plucks a purple flower from the ground. Looking around, I note no other flowers here, and realize it is out of place. He turns to me, holding the flower up.

"Any minute now…"

Slate stares at the flower as if he expects it to give him answers. I think he is crazier than I originally thought, until the flower speaks.

Yes, the flower speaks.

And for a moment, I worry I am the crazy one.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, grey?" it says, though there is no mouth for the words, the center vibrates with each word spoken.

"Assistance, my dear Selma."

"What sort of assistance?" comes the flower.

"The kind that will reward you with anything you'd like." The grey is grinning as if he is proud of himself.

It goes silent, nothing but the birds chirping and the wind blowing until a soft rumbling starts. The vibrations go through my feet, all the way up to my chest. A hole appears in the side of the column, and inside is dark but I can see many stairs from the small amount of light flooding inside. I look up, knowing we will be walking up the stairs for a long time.

"See you soon," Slate says, tossing the flower over his shoulder and heading into the hole. Glancing at the flower, then back at him, I wonder if I have made a big mistake coming with him.

Talking flowers? It is very strange.

Still, wanting to get back to my mate, I hurry after him. It takes a long while to get to the top of the stairs, which seem to be made of the rock of the mountain. I am grateful there is no light in here because it makes it less tiring for me.

When we reach the top, we are greeted by a woman half his size. Meaning to me, she is the height of a child. Though I can see by the wrinkles on her face that she is old, along with the greying hair that looks similar to a lion's mane.

"Never had a shadow here before," she says with a grunt, gesturing behind her to the open door.

Slate walks in, and I walk in behind him.

"Consider it part of your payment," Slate says.

"No," she counters quickly.

"It was worth a try."

She closes the door, and I note the handle is by my knee. Her ceilings are very high, but everything in this house that I can see is smaller than normal.

We follow her through a few hallways until we are in a room with normal-sized furniture except for one chair that will fit her. The walls are bright yellow, and there is a large window that overlooks another mountain. There is no table, only different chairs across from one another. I take the blue armchair, while Slate sits on the floral couch. The witch takes her small chair that looks like a throne.

"What can I do for you, grey? It's been a while." She sounds more annoyed at seeing him than anything else, and I wonder if this was a bad idea. Does she have a problem with him? Or is this her typical disposition…

"We need a shadow guardian handbook," the grey explains.

She holds his gaze, slow-blinking once before turning to look at me. I wait for her to say something, but she does not.

Slate speaks. "He cannot go back to the shadow realm to get one."

"I see," she says, turning her attention back to Slate. "All this way, just for a book?"

"It's important."

"Apparently."

"And we are on a time constraint, so…"

She nods thoughtfully, looking back at me. She glances at me from toes to head with no emotion on her face. I cannot tell if she is curious or confused about how I am here.

"I am curious about you," she finally says.

"Understandable," I answer.

"You have the posture of a guardian, yet you are here in this realm. Meaning you have a mate. How is this possible?"

I hadn't expected telling this witch such details. Giving her information about the prophecy is not wise. We do not know if we can trust her either.

"You know how it goes," Slate says flippantly. "Love conquers all."

"But guardians have their ability for a mate stripped from them." The witch keeps her eyes on me as she says this.

"Lazy witch," Slate comments. "Can we get to the matter at hand, please?"

From the corner of my eye, I see Slate tapping his fingers on his knees. There is no doubt he is growing concerned, yet I do not feel the same. The witch looks at me with interest and intrigue, not unease. I do not feel as if I am in danger.

Slate clears his throat for attention, but the witch does not pull her eyes from me. It is as if she is memorizing every inch of me, or perhaps trying to decide if she has seen me before, but I cannot figure out why she would do either of those things. Eventually she closes her eyes and turns to face Slate.

"I have what you need," she says.

"And what do you require in return?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Slate blurts out, nearly jumping out of his chair. I glare at him.

The witch smiles softly and gets up to leave the room without giving an answer.

"What is happening?" Slate whispers to me.

"How should I know? You are the one who brought me here."

"She is staring at you as if she knows you," he hisses. "And there has never been a time she does not require payment." He grits his teeth, still staring at me.

"What are you insinuating?" I frown.

"If all this time you've been complaining about not trusting me, while I should be not trusting you, there will be—"

He snaps his mouth shut when the witch returns, carrying a guardian handbook. She walks right to Slate and offers it to him. When he tries to take it, she pulls it away and says, "I am a liquid feared by all; a barrier between life and fall. My name flows through tales of yore; touch me and live nevermore."

Slate's jaw drops. "Have you gone daft?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "I don't appreciate your tone after I have so graciously helped you, not with one thing, but two."

She shoves the book at him, holding her chin up as if she is the one offended.

Snatching the book, Slate gets to his feet. "You better not be playing games with me, Greenheart."

"I do honest business, grey. You better do the same," she warns.

Five minutes later, we are outside and moving down the mountain. Slate is in a foul mood, but I have many questions. It is best I ask them later, when we are back with Lexia and Lumen. This way we can discuss it all together. That is, after I make love to my mate because I missed her so.