But the biggest shock of all was the next day. As she waited in the sitting room, the clock appeared like it had been bludgeoned by a mallet.
And there was no ticking to be heard again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VESPER
The journey to the mountain passage could be summed up in three short words: a total bitch.
Vesper and Nef had barely ascended the mountain when the clouds closed in. The blizzard, accompanied by a slew of sleet and icy wind, ruined Vesper’s plan to take shelter for the night, so before the weather worsened, they dragged their tired feet, and trekked on in silence as they willed warmth into their numb, aching extremities.
He suspected he knew what trouble Nef had gotten herself into and what she escaped from since that was undoubtedly blood under her fingernails. The idea made Vesper’s stomachknot. He didn’t know if he could protect her from this, but they could discuss it once they found shelter from this storm, because between his numb fingers, toes, and his balls retracting into his stomach, talking was the last thing he wanted to do.
As the ground crumbled beneath their feet, snow and rocky debris tumbled down the cliffside to reveal the mountain passage from the white haze.
Bloody Hollow, it was about time.
Vesper banked Balthasar to a hard left.
When he’d been here with Emmery, they’d hesitated at the foreboding cave’s entrance, but now he nudged Balthasar into a trot to escape this blasted storm. He glanced at Nef behind him. It seemed the same thought simmered in her hazel stare, so they barreled toward shelter, leaning into their steeds to reduce wind resistance.
The snow blew in great whirling mounds while they dismounted then tucked themselves inside the mouth of the cave. Nef’s horse limped at her side and Vesper’s chest tightened at the way its nostrils flared with exhaustion. Balthasar was unfazed by the rough journey, but he also wasn’t alive. Her steed looked as if it might drop dead any moment.
“I’d give anything not to go back out there. Colder than a Hollowhound’s tit, right?” Vesper said, trying to lighten the mood.
Nef didn’t glance his way.
With a sigh, he reached for her horse’s reins, but the beast eyed him and shrank away. Typical. He cleared his throat and gave the steed some space. “We should rest before we fucking fall over.” He dug through his saddle bags until he found a couple of apples, and tossed them to Nef. “Feed these to her. She looks as poor as you do.” He frowned at Nef’s sallow cheeks.
Nef fumbled, but managed to catch the fruit. “I’m fine. Thanks,” she murmured. Surely she could feel that stiflingtension between them, the one that lingered in Vesper’s chest too. Turning over the apples in her hands, she peered down the dark tunnel, her eyes weary. “Should we set up camp?”
Vesper produced supplies from his pack. After his previous trip here, he’d prepared for the endless darkness, now that Emmery wasn’t here to light the way. With more force than necessary, he struck the flint against the wall until sparks caught the torch and flame nestled between the fibres.
It wasn’t much light, but it would have to do.
Vesper grasped Balthasar’s reins, took the lead, and ordered, “Further in.”
His stomach twisted and cinched tighter with each step. No part of him wanted to see the chamber Arborius had been imprisoned within for all those years. Though sickly magic no longer clouded the air, irrational fear somersaulted inside his belly. What if the dragon waited to claim his life? To exact revenge for Vesper’s deception?
But he shivered, rolled back his shoulders, and stalked on.
As Nef followed, she offered the apple in her palm to her horse. The steed turned its head away in refusal. That was never a good sign.
Though the cave still held a damp, icy chill, it was warmer than being caught in that storm. If they could find some dried wood, or really any sort of debris, they might be able to stoke a small fire. Anything would be better than this frigidness. Vesper flexed his stiff fingers inside his gloves, mostly to assure himself he still could.
And as the tiny light ahead guided him toward the chamber, his breath hitched and heart thundered in his ears. It didn’t make any bloody sense, but he couldn’t control it. Couldn’t keep his composure from crumpling.
Nef placed her hand on his elbow then slid to his wrist and unclenched the hand he’d unknowingly balled into a fist.
As the gullet of the tunnel widened into the gut of the chamber, no evidence of decayed bodies remained, nor the dragon who’d glared at Vesper with revenge in his eyes before flying off. The larger-than-life chains were now only mangled chunks of metal since Emmery had destroyed them.
Their boots splashed in the slushy snow as they trudged through the cavern. The quiet settled into them, disrupted only by the blustering skies howling overhead in a flurry of white. And while they stood alone in the chamber, it was as if vivid red eyes watched from the shadows, examining Vesper like he was made of glass.
He ran the back of his hand against his chapped lips. “I guess this is as good as it gets. Not exactly luxury, but let’s camp here. Sleep for a bit.”
Snow littered the floor from the shattered ceiling where Arborius had crashed through, but they found a patch of dry land out of the storm’s reach. It was less than ideal, but Nef appeared as if she would collapse along with her horse. If Vesper was alone, he’d have pressed on until he reached Morana, but with Nef, it wasn’t worth the risk. Her head swivelled as she took in the dark walls, caution etched into her gaze. She hadn’t been outside the Scarlet Palace since she was taken as a child, so all this had to be overwhelming.
After Vesper built a small fire out of whatever debris he could find, they settled down to rest. Tension flooded the air between them as they swaddled themselves in their bedrolls, desperate to ward off the chill. Putting calculated space between itself and Vesper, Nef’s horse practically fell to the ground and into a deep sleep punctuated by its laboured breaths.