CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
VESPER
Per Arborius’ instructions, Vesper and his comrades left for the Graver’s cave when dawn first shattered the sky. Aside from Rainna and Aelita, who had stayed in Rensburrow, Vesper and the riders all gathered their mounts and set off along with Nef and Kyrith.
Vesper wasn’t surprised they hadn’t found the Graver’s cave previously since it lay tucked into a ridiculously high mountainside, best accessible by flight. They had spent days planning, arguing, and debating whether the dragon spoke the truth. After he had revealed the Gravers’ location, Arboriuscalled his daughter to his side, and then flew away, as if he didn’t care whether they believed him.
Since only three days remained before Vesper returned to Ellynne, he would be immeasurably screwed if the Gravers didn’t hand him his answers on a fucking silver platter.
Though Kyrith had insisted Thorrin take her, Vesper could practically feel her gaze on the side of his face. After their encounter with Arborius and her loss of Stiggy, she’d been uncharacteristically quiet, and he feared maybe she’d glimpsed something in the interaction. Something condemning.
Because now she looked like she wanted to sink her claws into him and rip him down the middle to uncover all his rotted insides. To finally see the truth of who he really was.
Probably best she never knew.
Vesper glanced over at Nef as she clung to Dimitri, her cheek pressed into his back and arms around his waist. Gods did she look bloody happy.
He had spotted them together on walks, sharing meals, and Dimitri even taught her how to build a small wooden table, though Nef didn’t appear the least bit interested in carpentry.
But each time Vesper saw them together, dread festered inside him. Because the sickness would inevitably take her, and it was only a matter of when. While he had begged her to stay behind and rest, her stubborn nature rivalled Kaida’s. She wouldn’t listen to him, not that they’d spoken much since they’d arrived at Rensburrow or fallen into bed together, though it seemed her interest in Dimitri played only a minor role in that choice. The longer he abstained, the greater his soul revived, and he couldn’t let himself slip back into that habit. That vice.
Nef was great; she just wasn’t what he needed anymore.
As they neared the mountain peak, Vesper yanked himself from his thoughts. One by one they landed, then slid from their mounts. When Vesper called Kaida back this time, she returnedwith a gentle knock to his chest, rather than her usual charge like a rabid bull.
The riders left their dragons’ bones in a heap and wasted no time before they entered the cave. Vesper ripped off his mask and took the lead down the long, steep cavern into the mountain’s depths, the bottom lit by dim lantern-light. Only a few minutes into their descent, the air shifted.
Something didn’t feel right.
A chill snaked up Vesper’s spine as he reached for his sword. Kyrith eyed his fingers on the hilt, her face unreadable under her mask as her hand wandered to the pommel of her own sword. It buzzed eerily, not like the melody it sang when they first met.
Ahead lay a path of stones in red tinged water, that stank of stagnant, old blood. Vesper dared to go first, followed by Thorrin, Nef, and Kyrith. Gaelen and Dimitri took up the rear.
Near the water, Vesper’s curiosity got the better of him and he peered into the depths. The second he spotted the bleach white of bones scattered along the bottom, voices ambushed him as if they had lain in waiting within the remains. The strange words, not in his tongue, twined into a smattering of bloody nonsense. Whatever the voices said, theyscreamedit.
The voices pressed in, circling and crushing his skull. It appeared Thorrin, Demitri and Gaelen all suffered from the same insane affliction with their hunched shoulders and slitted eyes. Nef and Kyrith merely glanced helplessly between them. Vesper shoved the voices away, clenched his teeth, and willed them to leave him the fuck alone.
As Vesper yanked his sword from its sheath to prepare for gods only knew what ahead, he locked eyes with the wolf skull hilt. It always seemed to stare back and ask,Will you fight or will you flee?
Before, he was never sure.
Now, things were different.
Hewas different.
The cavern expanded, the ceilings grew high, and walls stretched wide. But even in the generous new space, the lifeless air stuck in Vesper’s lungs. Through the center were several structures, their rough, tan exteriors smeared with what appeared to be old blood and wet moss. Damp soil lay clumped in dark patches, overturned, or perhaps freshly dug.
They looked like … graves.
With the name Gravers, it seemed obvious, but what were they burying? Or digging up?
The group tiptoed over the plots as if a hand would shoot up through the soil and snatch their ankles.
Vesper shivered. Fuck this shit.
As they approached one of the peculiar tents, Vesper studied the tanned fabric that resembled animal hide. He nearly shrieked like a little girl when a figure emerged in a red robe with a hood shadowed face. It joined its hands together, the gesture hidden under its billowy sleeves.
Vesper clutched his sword tighter.