Chapter 27

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

TAMAS

"You've been at this long enough," I grumbled, pacing the star-marked floor, restless with the shadow of darkness creeping up my back—a formless presence that, if I lingered and gazed long enough, I might identify as guilt, intertwined with other turbulent emotions I'd prefer to keep undefined for now.

Selisimus and Wellard were making no progress, as far as I could see, which meant—curses—we needed all four to make this work.

"They'll take less time if you stop snapping at them," Tressya admonished, leaning against the throne's rock dais.

Tortilus and Plesy had abandoned us upon reaching Emberforge, claiming they needed only minutes to gather more supplies. By ‘supplies', they meant volumes of spell-books the Umbral Luminae had compiled over the last five hundred years. I humored them, thinking we'd shaken off two apostles, only to discover all four were needed to breach the Salmun's enchanted door at the back of the Bone Throne. At least, that's how it seemed, given how long we'd all been standing here waiting for something to happen. So far neither Selisimus nor Wellard were any closer to breaking through.

Our escape from the Salmun led us to the fringes of Tolum, where the three of us were compelled to shift forms. Bryra's half-form posed a challenge, and I seized upon that as a pretext to send her north, until Tressya interceded, insisting we needed all the assistance we could gather. Reluctantly, I conceded her point. Even with Tressya's emerging abilities and my weaponized form in the nightmare's shape, along with the Eone's pledged support, the two of us alone would find it difficult to overcome the formidable obstacles that lay in our path.

At Tolum, I'd commandeered a carriage to transport us to Emberforge, allowing us—especially Bryra—to travel incognito. Stained in the foul creatures' blood, none of us were fit to be seen. It was also the quickest way to travel, despite my inner beast bristling at the horses' sluggish pace. Thanks to the Salmun's absence from Emberforge, we reached the throne room with no complications.

"Osmud's taking too long." I forked my fingers through my hair, turning from the rest of them. I was sure to wear a groove in the stonework with all this pacing.

"He'll be back in time," Tressya reassured me.

Osmud, perhaps the only one with sense right now, had hastened away, also to collect supplies, but his collection would be more useful, namely food, water skins, weapons, and other such necessities.

"It's heating," Selisimus cried. "I can feel the heat from here."

"What does that mean?" Tressya said.

"Something's happening."

"Nothing we're needing to happen," I added. Tressya was right. I wasn't helping, but right now my mood was a foul beast, giving me nothing nice to say. The Eone were a constant annoyance, becoming more meddlesome now we had a team accompanying us on our hunt for the Etherweave.

In recent days, I'd noticed a troubling shift. Their voices were no longer the only affliction they gave upon me; their emotions infected me as well. As a soul-sucking shapeshifter, I was familiar with this kind of onslaught, yet this time, it felt different. Initially, it was easy to distinguish between their emotions and my own. However, as time passed, the boundary blurred and frayed, until I struggled to discern whose emotions were whose.

Despite the frustration this recent development brought, it offered some advantages. For instance, I realized their aversion to Tressya stemmed from fear—fear of her status as the other bloodborn and her potential to control the Etherweave, but primarily, fear of her formidable willpower.

‘Peace, young Razohan. Do not weigh yourself with troubling thoughts," Carthius said.

‘Peace you say. You've plagued me enough these last hours.' I'd didn't need this mental war at the moment.

‘Your actions were irrational,' Fivia said. ‘We were merely trying to calm your thoughts, help you see a clear path forward?—'

‘ Cut the shit. You want nothing more than to see Tressya suffer.'

‘She does not deserve your devotion. She was never meant to be a part of this,' Ovia added.

They knew she was part of this. It had taken the two of us to reveal the map; they'd seen that. But Tressya was an obstacle in their plans because she wasn't under their influence; she wasn't their instrument to manipulate.

As the sound of hurrying feet approached, I momentarily forgot about the curse of the Eone and turned my attention toward the door. At last, Tortilus and Plesy had returned; I recognized their light, quick footsteps as opposed to Osmud's heavier tread. They burst through the door, accompanied by a handful more of their bloody friends.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snarled, striding toward them, causing them all to stutter to a halt.

It wasn't until I saw the eyes of the newcomers roam over my clothes, mouths agape, that I remembered my torn and blood-stained clothes. Seeing Bryra began a frenzy of whispers between them.

"These are members of Umbral Luminae."

"I don't give a shit what they're a part of. They aren't coming."

"Sir—" Tortilus began, but I cut him off with a swipe of my hand.

"No." My claws spiked through the tips of my fingers, but in the next breath I felt Tressya's hand take mine, as she ran her fingers across my claws.

"I'm sorry, Tortilus, all of you, but Tamas is right. We're not on an adventure."

"We know that…Tressya. Believe me, we do," Plesy replied. "We've seen so much these last days to understand what's at stake. The dangers we face."

"See, that's the problem," Tressya continued. "You don't know enough. What you've experienced is nothing to what lays ahead. I refuse to be responsible for so many lives."

"Hallelujah," Tamas breathed, to which Tressya rolled her eyes.

"United, we are strong," Tortilus said.

"Doesn't matter. None of you are bloody coming," Tamas said.

"But… That's not what was agreed," Tortilus protested.

I seized him by the collar, yanking him off his feet and dragging him, grunting and protesting, to where Selisimus and Wellard were attempting to breach the Salmun's magical lock.

"This is your job," I said, shoving him forward. "Place your hands on the rock and start chanting." I glanced over at Plesy. "You too. Get over here."

Tressya remained silent, not intervening in my rough handling of him. Although he was eager to assist, my patience and concern had worn thin. The Eone were taking their toll on me in numerous ways; providing endless distractions, sowing confusion, and intensifying my frustration. My inner beast was perpetually on the cusp of breaking free, yet it wasn't the sole threat; the nightmare was an even more formidable peril. Its impulses were beyond anything I felt familiar with or comfortable handling. I had only taken its form a few times, each instance a tremendous battle of wills when my mind was undistracted and unburdened by those seeking to control me. Given the current turmoil within me, I feared I might succumb and lose myself.

Plesy scuttled across and joined his brethren. I stepped around the rock, folding my arms across my chest and gave the rest of the group a stare as hard as my claws. None dared move, nor did they let out a peep of protest.

At the first sound of Osmud's return, I glanced over my shoulder. "You better be effective."

"I think it's working," Selisimus announced, distracting me from barring the advance of the other apostles.

I hurried around the dais as Osmud stomped inside. "This is quite a crowd."

"Onlookers only," I returned.

"Better be. There's too many mouths to feed." And he lugged the two weighted sacks higher on his back.

Once beside us, he dropped his cargo. "We'll share it amongst ourselves for ease of carrying. Any progress?"

"Plenty," Selisimus announced at the same time I said. "Not enough."

"I'll go with the optimist."

"At your peril. He's too happy," I snapped.

"And you're a mound of misery of late. I'd rather leave the clouds behind and take the sunshine with us."

"We're doing it," Selisimus uttered, sounding in awe of their success.

"All you need is faith," Tortilus said, fixing his gaze on me.

I flashed him a sneer, tipped with fangs, which wiped the pompous cheer off his face, and watched—admittedly in awe tinged surprise—as a slice of rock vanished, revealing a steep stairwell that descended into the earth beneath the throne.

That shadow of darkness was once more pressing heavy against my back, so I turned away from our escape and addressed Osmud. "Let's sort the supplies."

"Oh, I brought these," Tortilus said, sounding way too proud and happy with himself for my liking.

"We'll manage," I grumbled, not even bothering to see what he meant. My patience with Tortilus had thinned to the point of transparency. I resolved to make him the target of my anger after his involvement in disturbing Tressya and I. In truth, it was Osmud who had interrupted us, but Tortilus was nearby, and so he would endure my frustration when I needed to vent. I couldn't give a damn if that was unfair.

"They're packs for carrying supplies. Very handy. And they have straps that slip over your shoulders like so," Tortilus said.

I rolled my eyes at Osmud, then spared one glance over my shoulder to watch him demonstrate how handy the straps were with his own pack. Covering the distance in two strides, I swiped his pack from his back, then tipped it upside down to empty the contents.

"What're you doing?" he said, as books tumbled to the floor.

"We can't eat those," I said, before stuffing supplies from one of Osmud's sacks.

"But I brought spares. There're enough packs for our books and the supplies." Tortilus fell to his knees and, with reverent care, gathered the books from the floor, smoothing bent pages and ensuring to be careful with their spines. "Some are centuries old. They can't take such handling."

"Perhaps you should've left them on their shelves," Osmud replied, joining me in filling the spare packs the apostles had brought with them.

"Tamas," Tressya said.

Her tone wasn't admonishing, yet it carried an edge that made me inwardly sigh. She said nothing more, walking past me while eyeing me over her shoulder. I knew a fight was imminent, and I feared it would be one I was about to lose.

Once we were at a distance she deemed private, she turned, but I was determined to beat her to the first line.

"They're a burden we don't need. They'll slow us down and place us all at risk." I came in close, folding my arms across my chest and looking down on her as though I was a threat. It was a defensive stance because I already felt like I'd lost the argument.

"They might prove useful."

"Name one way, and I may consider it."

She would struggle to find even one. They were nothing but a burden.

"They're able to conjure light. I've witnessed it myself. That will be invaluable when facing the manifestations."

I placed my palm over her face, as I squeezed my eyes shut and silently cursed her astute mind.

She removed my hand. "I trust you're giving it serious consideration. "

I circled it around her neck. "Osmud's likely brought plenty of flint and shavings. We'll create our own light."

"How did the northerners get through the Ashenlands?"

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to hers. "Tressya," I whispered, her name coming out on a frustrated sigh. Romelda provided a magical light that pierced the darkest recesses of the impenetrable forest. Tressya was correct in her assertion that a flaming torch would be of no use to us.

"Good. That's settled. The four can come with us. The rest will stay to stall the Salmun."

I captured her chin, tilting her head up and forcing her to meet my eyes. "This is a bad idea. The four appear to be the smartest of their little troupe, let them stay and harass the Salmun, they'll likely do a better job. I'm sure Tortilus will drive them crazy with frustration."

Tressya looked around me. "Tortilus, find another pack for your books." Then she returned her attention to me. "You'll see that it's a good idea."

She went to leave, but I snared her wrist before she got too far. "Don't think it's going to be that easy next time."

She took a step closer, bringing her body, her scent, close enough to scramble my mind. Keep your wits. The little serpent was playing me with her feminine wiles. Unfortunately for her, I was a seasoned player in this game. Her stare wasn't combative, nor seductive, but a gentle mixture of both as she ran the back of her finger alone my jawline, and curses that I felt it as an arrow shooting straight for my cock. I couldn't stop my eyes from falling to her lips as she spoke. " We'll make all our decisions as a team. As we did just now. And it worked well. Don't you think?"

She rose on her toes and feathered a kiss to my lips, before taking my bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a light nip.

It was no longer an arrow in my cock; it was a burning lance.

"Are all the packs full?" Tressya said, again thinking she could leave without my say. I snared her around the waist, hauling her close.

"The Salmun, remember?" And she smirked.

I grabbed her chin between my fingers, gently squeezing her cheeks. "I'm compiling a list of what you owe me." I pressed my finger to my temple. "It's growing long. You wouldn't believe what I've added." My traitorous eyes fell to her lips once again.

"Tressya," Tortilus called from behind me.

I grew fangs, but Tressya covered my mouth with her palm. Then, leaving me standing like I had my cock in my hands, she returned to Osmud and the apostles, who were busy transferring everything Osmud had brought into separate packs.

TRESSY A

The apostles led the way, guiding us with a bright light conjured in Tortilus' hand. It seemed that was one thing the apostles were adept at doing, and whenever they caught Tamas' eye, they countered his surly glare with a smug smile. Should I find a moment alone with them, I'd cautioned them to show some humility and grace. Inciting Tamas' ire could make this journey more arduous than necessary for all of us.

We'd ventured as far as the Salmun's ritual chamber when we came upon the false wall concealing the continuation of the tunnel.

"Gather around, brethren," Tortilus said. "Let us consult our approach on what must be done."

"I believe the Ebon Compendium contains some incantations that will be of use," Plesy said.

"Just get us through this bloody wall," Tamas growled from behind me.

"Patience, brother—" Tortilus managed before Tamas cornered Tortilus against the wall. "That's not a word you want to use with me, ever."

"Yes…yes, of course. Pardon me."

Osmud placed a hand on Tamas' shoulder. "How about we give the apostles room to perform whatever it is they need to perform?"

"The Salmun will be upon us before we get through this cursed wall," Tamas growl, his temper showing no signs of easing.

"And you're not making us go any quicker," Osmud countered.

Tamas begrudgingly took a step back but remained close, fixing the apostles with a glare as if his intense scrutiny could hasten their decision.

The Eone were probably uncomfortable with so many accompanying Tamas to the Etherweave, but it was likely my presence was causing the most significant issues. I was sure Tamas was in a constant struggle with the Eone, striving to maintain control of his will and resist theirs. And I could only imagine what plans they hoped Tamas would enact—under their influence—to ensure I was kept far from the Etherweave.

"I never thought you'd have the impudence to show yourself here again."

I turned around to see Andriet's ethereal form casting a warm glow into the dark passage behind us. I covered my mouth with my hand, pressing my lips together to prevent myself from uttering his name. Tears threatened to spill, but I pushed them back and gazed at him, feeling my heart swell with genuine joy at the sight of him.

"Who's this band of heathens you've brought with you?" He floated around me, careful not to make contact, and that one gesture of courtesy threatened to reignite the tears still lurking within me.

"That one—" he declared, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Bryra. "—is a Huungardred. A Huungardred within Emberforge. Oh, Tressya, my dear, you've fallen right off the seat of your throne."

I remained silent, offering no defense. The apostles were the only ones present unaware of my abilities as a spiritweaver, so there was no need to keep Andriet a secret, especially considering the challenges ahead. However, I wasn't yet prepared to reveal him.

"Yes, I'm familiar with this one," Andriet continued, drawing nearer to Tamas and sweeping his gaze up and down Tamas' body. Although he reached only as high as Tamas' nose, he sized him up as if he were a formidable adversary. "This is the one for whom you betrayed us, is it not?"

I shook my head because, indeed, through every decision and action, I had betrayed him, yet never in my heart. Still, I questioned whether that distinction held any significance for a man who'd lost his family and his life.

"And the other one looks just as wild," he remarked with a huff, eyeing off Osmud. "I doubt they're house-trained or even know how to use a knife and fork. At least you won't go hungry. These two are probably adept at catching prey with their bare hands and tearing it apart with their teeth. And don't even get me started on hygiene." Andriet leaned in, feigning a sniff at Tamas.

Tamas slowly turned his head, glaring in Andriet's direction, as if sensing the presence of something or someone nearby.

"I do believe this one knows I'm here. He's mostly a savage, so I'm not surprised. They say animals have keener senses than humans."

"Are we sharing this passage with someone else?" Tamas said, turning his head to face me.

"This is a fun game. Don't tell him, Tressya."

I buried my head in my hands, rubbing my fingertips across my forehead.

"Tressya?" Tamas warned, his voice deepening with a hint of menace that seemed to stalk through the passage like a restless beast.

"Possibly," I murmured from behind my hands, cautious not to further provoke Tamas, yet also not wanting to give Andriet the impression that I had forsaken our friendship.

"I should've known you'd choose his side. I can only imagine he's well-endowed and reasonably skilled in using it. Though as a savage, I'm sure he has a limited repertoire."

I had to smother my chuckle with my hand.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Tamas said.

"No."

"Bite your tongue, woman. A constant nuisance can become a greater problem than a major threat."

Tamas gave me a nod before refocusing on the apostles. Given he was burdened with enough issues on top of dealing with the Eone, I didn't want to cause him anymore distress.

"Wait. There's a spirit down here with us? Is that what you two are discussing?" Osmud interjected.

"Ah. The wildling's not thrilled about that notion. What an excellent discovery," Andriet added with a hint of delight.

"Emberforge is said to be—" Selisimus began, looking up from the book he'd been reading.

"You're meant to find us a way through this wall," Tamas interjected.

"Spirits are always around," I informed Osmud. "You're just fortunate enough not to notice them." I attempted to give Andriet a stern look, but he avoided my gaze.

"Come now, Tressya, don't spoil my fun. You owe me a great deal, my girl. A thousand apologies and plenty of amusement," Andriet teased.

"Your Majesty can see spirits?" Plesy said, intrigued, forgetting the book to join in the conversation.

"Get us through that wall," Tamas demanded, pointing at the tome in Tortilus' hands, which three of the four apostles had abandoned, finding the revelation of my spiritweaving far more interesting.

"That's quite a lot of man to handle," Andriet remarked, giving Tamas another once-over. "He's got a temper, too. But I'm sure you know the trick to making him smile. I just hope he knows how to make you smile, considering all you've surrendered to be with him."

My heart ached at the truth; it mourned for losing Andriet but not for choosing Tamas.

"This should do. Look here." The three apostles returned their attention to Tortilus, who'd continued to hunt for the right spell to get us through this wall. They gathered closer, leaning in to follow Tortilus' finger across the page.

"It doesn't appear too tricky," Plesy said.

"Just do it," Tamas snapped.

"Steady, northerner," Tortilus said. "Magic takes time."

"Not if you're adept."

"We need a little time to study the words," Tortilus defended.

"Tamas, we should give the apostles some space to do what they need to do," I suggested, trying to sound as reasonable as possible.

"They need a little persuasion to keep up the pace," Tamas responded, his tone suggesting he was also attempting to stay reasonable.

I had no expertise in magic wielding, so I couldn't gauge the level of concentration required to perform it correctly. Nevertheless, I was convinced that Tamas' incessant hovering wasn't aiding the apostles in accomplishing their task.

"A tense standoff between lovers. My days shall not bore me."

"You're honestly not planning on coming with us," I grumbled, unfairly burdening Andriet with my frustration, and exposing everyone to our argument.

All eyes turned to me. Unable to juggle a spirit whispering in my ear amidst the escalating tension of the current crisis, I simply shrugged.

"No one else is joining us," Tamas snarled, not bothering to turn around. "Not even spirits. We've got too many hitching a ride as it is."

"Are we referring to the spirit here?" Osmud asked. "At least it won't consume any of our supplies."

" It ," Andriet shrieked. "Deranged savage. Although he is speaking on my behalf."

"Is it going to be useful?" Osmud continued.

"Eat your tail, beast man," Andriet snapped. "I am what I am."

"Andriet will keep to himself and bother no one," I cautioned Andriet.

Again, I gained everyone's attention.

"Andriet!?" Tamas and Osmud replied together.

"The prince?" Tamas clarified.

"He's dumb, but he has big muscles, and likely an even bigger?—"

"Yes," I interrupted him.

"I forgive you, Tressya. I've succumbed to a large cock myself. That was until Daelon, of course. Though his isn't tidy by any stretch?—"

"He's going to be a major irritant to me, but harmless to the rest of you," I interjected.

Tamas finally abandoned the apostles and stomped toward me. "I thought he got killed in the Ashenlands." He barely kept the snarl from his tone.

"Don't make this into something, Tamas. Not now."

Andriet, close by, chimed in, "Listen to her, bullyboy. Though I must admit that predatory stalking stirred something in me."

I rolled my eyes. If this was the way it was going to be, I wouldn't survive. "What about Daelon?"

"That's not fair," Andriet reared backward.

"Are you talking to me or him?" Tamas said.

"You've got your own inner voices to contend with, so don't give me grief about mine." I jabbed my hands to my hips, glaring up at Tamas.

"That's it, Tressya darling. Let the beast man know your claws are just as sharp."

"How about you two—" Osmud said.

"Shut up," Tamas and I said in unison.

Andriet mimicked clapping his hands together. "Stars above, if only my Daelon were here to enjoy this spectacle."

"Ah... We've… Ah…encountered a slight problem." Tortilus stuttered .

It was as though the earth rumbled beneath our feet, interrupting Tamas' and my angry glares, only for Tamas to launch back toward the apostles as though a flaming arrow shot from a bow. "That better be a joke."

Tortilus shook his head, hugging the book to his chest.

"It seems…" Plesy tried to help Tortilus with an explanation.

"What?" Tamas loomed over the four of them, strangling them all to silence.

"You better slip the leash on your savage," Andriet helpfully informed me.

"Tamas," I started, but he raised his hand to silence me, and I noticed the slow emergence of his claws. The apostles saw it too, their eyes widening in alarm. Wellard let out a small whimper and pressed closer to Selisimus.

"Sort out whatever problem you've encountered," he said through gritted teeth, his inner beast sounding as if it was on the brink of being unleashed. "And get us through this wall before I decide you have no use and would look better impaled on my claw."

"What's the snag?" Osmud inquired, his question slicing through the tension.

"Well." Tortilus visibly relaxed, displaying the book in his palms once more, and pointing to a place halfway down the page. "At first appearance, it seemed straightforward. Only now, under further scrutiny, we've discovered we'll need certain…implements to perform such a spell."

Tamas raked his hands through his hair, bleeding his frustration over everyone present.

"What about the Salmun's chamber?" I said. "There's bound to be—" We were standing just outside the cavernous room.

"This is really what we're going to do?" Tamas shouted.

"There's no alternative," I countered.

"The Salmun are close. I can feel it." He pounded a fist at his chest.

"Then stop wasting our time with these arguments."

"Why did we come this way?" He dragged his hands down his face.

"The map, Tamas," I replied.

"Because of that fuck over there." He jabbed a clawed finger toward Plesy, who was the first to notice what the map revealed of our path.

"He's really very feral, underneath all those muscles and masculine exterior."

Ignoring Andriet's quip, I replied with as much heat as Tamas. "You burned it, so we'll never know if there was an alternative path."

"The Ashenlands lie to the north. Instead, we're crawling around like moles."

"And your solution is to retrace our steps and head north?"

Tamas flung his hands skyward as he shouted, "Fuuuck," pouring all his pent-up fury into that single word.

And the wall replied by shimmering out of existence.