Callias’s parents had commanded the order. Maybe like his own father, there was more to all of this than he’d thought.
“Why didn’t you take advantage of that safety?” he asked. “Not that this place isn’t great but the lack of sunlight is a bit dismal.”
“They turned us away. Told us if we were to cohabitate, it was mandatory for Hollows to take blood oaths and either become Scarlets or serve the crown.” She clenched her jaw. “For such adismalsituation, I think we’ve done well.”
That statement resided in his bones. He liked to think he would have done the same, but he let his people down. He’d been alive over a century and had done nothing to move his father’s agenda forward. He had merely dwelled in vengeance all this time, and now had nothing to show for his family’s work. His eyes wandered to her chest to check for her scar but her high neck tunic hid it beneath. “So, if Delmira wasn’t exactly welcoming, what about Tsillah?”
“They're far enough off the coast the bloodlace hasn’t reached them. We’re not sure why. Could be the water, might only be a matter of time, or could be theirpisspoorattitude.”
Vesper had no desire to touch that comment with the way she snarled it. They must have turned everyone away too.
A fierceness threaded her gaze. “We’ve done everything to keep the bloodlace at bay. But it’s spreading.”
He spun to catch the eye of a man with a head of flaming-red hair who hustled a little girl with pigtails the same colour as they exited their cottage. Vesper’s heart hurt as he noticed the sheen to her skin. The fever had likely taken hold of her and, judging by her age, she didn’t have long. At least they weren’t trapped in that bloody town above. “And those that still live on the surface, what’s their deal?” Vesper asked.
“They refused to play nice so they aren’t allowed here. We only bring those we trust. If everyone knew, this place would be overrun.” She sighed and looked around the cavern as if her life’s work lived within these walls. “Everyone settled here contributes. It’s the one unnegotiable condition. That and no skinny-ass boys with brains the size and capacity of a walnut.”
That tugged at his lips. “Should I leave now?”
“Ah, so you do have some self-awareness.” She snorted a laugh. “Guess you’re not atotalmoron.”
Vesper rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight back his smile at her jab. He halted in the middle of the wooden walkway and glanced around him.
Thishad to be what Zyphira wanted him to find. Not that festering pit of despair above them.
“There are people you need to meet,” she said. “Try to hold onto those two brain cells while you do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vesper said, a smug tilt to his lips
Her nose scrunched. “Ugh, don’t call mema’amlike some old lady,” she groaned then snuck a peek at him over her shoulder. “Call me Kyrith.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
EMMERY
The tang of old blood hit Emmery first, followed by a foreign scent, something cold and sinister and otherworldly. She exhaled roughly to rid it from her nostrils. Somehow the doorway blotted out her other senses—her vision dulled, her hearing extinguished, and a moment of weightlessness suspended her, like when they fell into the cave. And in the absence of that weightlessness, her chest sank.
Then, all at once, it flooded back, pouring into her mind and body.
When she opened her eyes on the other side, Destonne appeared, his back turned to her, wearing strange black garments that shifted like shadows.
Brennen sauntered over and hid her nudity with his colossal body while he kept his eyes glued to the ground.
Tightening her arms around her chest, Emmery leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Thank you.” Before Brennen could reply, her eyes flicked to Destonne. “Where did you get the clothes?”
“They just appeared,” he said as if it was an everyday occurrence. “Come see this.” He waved her forward.
Though her heart strained, she stepped toward him. Brennen moved with her and shielded her lower half from view, not that Destonne was looking. He didn’t show an inkling of interest in her, which was a relief, but also, for whatever reason, stung.
Black wisps manifested out of the air and engulfed her as they wrapped her limbs to form breeches, a long tunic, and boots. The fabric was surprisingly soft on her skin, and with her body covered, she breathed easy once again.
The ground squelched under Emmery’s feet as she joined Destonne at his side and caught sight of what she’d been too concerned by her own nudity to notice. A vast stretch of crimson—a river composed entirely of blood.
Good gods. Were they supposed to crossthat? The thick, flowing expanse of it seemed to continue on forever.
Emmery flinched as an unsettling giggle skittered off her eardrums, foreign and coming from—
Damn it, she couldn't tell.