As I broke away from Navan’s kiss, knowing we had to leave soon if we were going to reach the Fazar Mountain Range and get back before dawn, I felt an impulse to talk to him about it. I wanted to broach the subject we had been skirting around for weeks, but, once again, it wasn’t the time. It was going to have to wait.
“We should go before it gets too late,” he said, clearing his throat.
I nodded, catching his hand and leading him out of the magical square, with its fairy-glen lights and beautiful music. Taking one final look around, I bade the band goodbye, knowing it would be the last warm sight I’d lay eyes on tonight.
Chapter Eight
As we took to the skies once more, the landscape of Nessun disappeared beneath us, rushing away into the distance. There was a gap in the mountains on the far side of the city, where it gave way to the rest of Northern Vysanthe’s territories, the sparkling lights of the city dimming as we passed through.
The temperature dropped as we flew through the crevasse between the ragged peaks, and I was immediately grateful for the emberstone Navan had bought me, feeling the warmth ripple through my veins as I clutched it in my hands. It was strange to fly so fast and so far, considering the last time I’d done this I had been confined to the training fields. It felt nice, like I could go anywhere, if I wanted to.
Beyond the mountains, our winged bodies weaving in and out of narrow cracks and fissures, the terrain shifted, giving way to vast expanses of flat darkness. With the temperature dropping, we sank lower to the ground, skimming across it, in case we suddenly needed to land and rest. Now and again, I’d see the glint of lights in the distance where a township was clustered, or a hamlet lay on the outskirts of a barren field.
Almost two hours into the flight, a dank, pungent scent crept into my nostrils, smelling of death and decay. I lifted my hand to pinch my nose against the overwhelming aroma, the emberstone tumbling from my hand as I did so. I watched as it fell to the ground. Cursing under my breath, I swooped down to retrieve it. I knew I probably needed to take more of the wing serum anyway; I could feel the strength in my wings ebbing, alongside a dull pain that throbbed beneath my scapula—a sure sign that the serum’s effects were fading.
As my feet touched the ground, I heard Navan call out.
“Riley, no! Get back in the air!” he yelled.
But it was too late. My wings no longer felt strong enough to fly, and while I was down here, I really needed to grab that stone. I scrambled over the dirt and grime, the rancid stench getting worse the closer I knelt to the ground. Just then, something rose from the earth, moving toward me at a rapid pace. At this distance, it looked like a black mist or a fog, flitting through the air. My mind jumped to the monsters the horticulturist had spoken of in Lauren’s book—shadow creatures that crept in the darkness. Only, there was a noise too. It sounded like paper flapping wildly in a breeze.
“Riley, get back in the air!” Navan bellowed again.
“I can’t!” I shouted back. I caught sight of something smooth and shiny in the dirt. Reaching for it, I plucked up the emberstone, just as Navan swooped low, grabbing my arms and lifting me back up into the air.
All around us, the black fog swarmed, the fluttering sound growing louder. I squinted into the darkness, determined to see what was crowding us, though the light was dim. It was only when a strand of the black shadow touched the side of my hand that I realized what it really was—a column of tiny, navy-winged butterflies, all working together like a hive to surround us. When the first fluttering creature bit into my flesh, realization dawned on me.
“Horerczy butterflies?” I gasped, snatching my hand away from the biting insect.
Navan nodded grimly, his arms gripped around my waist. “If we don’t get out of here now, we’ll be bones in five minutes flat,” he said, his eyes turning upward as I struggled to keep my hands and limbs away from the biting butterflies. I could feel their tiny teeth sinking into my skin, each one like a pinprick.
“They’re biting me!” I hissed, and I flailed wildly, hoping it would do some good.
“Stop wriggling, or you’ll fall!” Navan barked, readjusting his grip on my waist. It took me a moment to realize, but I couldn’t see my wings stretching out behind me at all anymore. They were retreating.
Thinking fast, I reached my free hand into my pocket and pulled out the two-thirds-empty vial, trying to juggle keeping the vampiric butterflies away, holding the emberstone, un-stoppering the vial, and not flailing around. I took a deep sip, draining it down to the last drop. Immediately, I felt the burn of it in my stomach, though the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before. Even so, I knew I wouldn’t be much use against the butterflies for at least a couple of minutes, until the searing agony subsided. It was all I could do just to cling to the emberstone, and not get eaten alive by the insects.
I felt the air around me lurch as Navan spun around, his arms holding me even tighter than before. My stomach plummeted with the movement as he built up speed, moving like a tornado, twisting through the cold air and sending the Horerczy butterflies scattering all over the place as they whacked into his rapidly turning wings.
Then Navan shot upward like a rocket, putting as much distance as possible between the swamp and us. He didn’t stop until the swamp was no longer visible beneath us, the flat expanse of savage marshland branching out into a wooded area, where something howled, and shadowy birds flapped across a dark canopy. It wasn’t the most comforting of places, but it was definitely better than a murderous swamp.
“That was close.” Navan sighed, slowly releasing me, and my newly unfurled wings took my weight.
“Too close,” I said, knowing I had to be more careful about losing my wings while midflight. It was easier while Navan was around to help me, but I couldn’t count on him always being there. If he got called away, or I ended up in a true battle scenario, without him to come to my aid, and I lost my wings in midair… I would be utterly screwed.
“At least we know where the swamps are on this side of Vysanthe,” he said, shuddering. “I hate those things. Ugh. Give me huge frostfangs or saber-toothed jakous any day.”
“What are those?” I wondered aloud, envisioning mythical beasts with snarling fangs and snouts that spewed fire.
“Creatures that live in the mountains. Frostfangs are these huge, hound-like beasts, though they can camouflage to hide in the ice and snow. A much nastier version of the icehounds you saw down in the South. Saber-toothed jakous aren’t much better. They’re probably closest to what you call polar bears, but they have bigger teeth, and their fur is spiny and filled with poison that paralyzes their victims.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” I muttered, glancing toward the mountain range that was appearing on the horizon, the frosted peaks gleaming beneath the Vysanthean moonlight. “And you think they’ll have these things where we’re going?”
Navan shrugged. “We’ll soon find out.”
We set off toward the mountains in the distance, where the poroporo fruit supposedly grew. I just hoped we’d avoid whatever else lay out there.
Less than an hour later, we arrived at the gaping mouth of a cave that was hewn into the side of the mountain, which Lauren had marked on the map. It was the tallest one in the mountain range, its peak glittering almost blue in the darkness. Icicles dangled down like jaws, and the ground was slippery as we landed. In the dark of the tunnels and passageways beyond, everything was deathly silent. We knew the passageways were there because the horticulturist had said so, but nobody knew how far the labyrinth went, or where the poroporo fruit might grow along the way.
“So we have to go in there?” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. Even with the fur and the emberstone, I couldn’t help but shiver.
“If we want that fruit. Though I’m starting to wonder if there might be another way to drug Yorrek,” Navan joked drily.
“Let’s get looking. We’ve got a long journey back, whether we find this
fruit or not,” I murmured, steeling myself against what was to come.
Holding the emberstone in my left hand, I took his hand in my right. We entered the cave system, and the silence descended on us with a vengeance. It was eerie and disorienting, the quiet so intense it was almost unbearable. Even when we spoke, the sound came out muffled, as though the cave itself wanted to smother it.
Using the faint blue light of the bioluminescent lichen that clung to the icy walls, we picked our way through the tunnels, squinting into the shadows up ahead to make sure nothing was creeping toward us. I turned to look over my shoulder a few times, too, just to be sure there wasn’t anything approaching from behind.
Eventually, we reached a cavern within the mountain where glacial pillars spiraled upward and frozen bridges of ice traversed the echoing ceilings above. They were so high, I couldn’t see where they ended, the darkness stretching away into oblivion. Somewhere in the vast cave, the sound of rushing water susurrated, but all I could see was a frozen landscape. Wherever that sound was coming from, it had to be deep below us, where the rock was slightly warmer.
And then, I saw it.
It caught the light from a shaft of moonlight that had crept in through a fissure in the stone, the outer flesh glowing with a purple hue that was instantly enticing. The shape was round and plump, shot through with golden veins that seemed to pulsate within, drawing my eye, making my mouth water. On top, there were waxy green leaves that seemed to hold small bowls of frozen dew in their concave valleys, never spilling a drop.
“There,” I whispered to Navan, nudging him.
He turned, his eyes going wide. “Well spotted!”
Slowly, we moved toward the fruit. The golden veins acted like a beacon, calling us forward. I wondered how a fruit like that managed to grow in such harsh conditions. Would it even taste good? I supposed that wasn’t the point of it. It was the high it gave, and the hypnotic effect it had on people. Remembering the pull of the Arcadium, I made a mental note to let Navan handle the fruit, just in case I got the sudden urge to take a bite.
Suddenly, my arm shot out, grasping Navan and pulling him back. He looked at me in surprise as I dragged him behind one of the glacial pillars.
“What’s the matter with you?” he whispered.
I pointed at the fruit. “Look at it—look at what’s under it!”
Navan did so, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “It’s just rocks and ice,” he replied quietly.
I shook my head. “No, it’s not! Look closer.”
Underneath the plump, glowing fruit was a ragged dome of what looked like ice, stone, and the same bioluminescent lichen that clung to the walls of the mountain caves. However, on closer inspection, my eyes having grown more accustomed to the gloom, I realized that they were, in fact, scales… and those scales were moving up and down very slowly, stirred by the breath of some hidden creature. There was no monster guarding the fruit. The fruit was growing on the monster, the way barnacles grew on whales.
“How are we supposed to—” I began, but a tremor beneath the earth cut my words short. It juddered through the rocks all around us, and icicles fell from the cavern above, forcing us to duck out of the way as they came crashing down. They splintered on the ground, smashing with a sharp sound that ricocheted up my spine.
A moment later, the enormous beast rose from its slumbering spot, ice sliding from its scales as it shook off the evening’s frost. It was about the size of an elephant, though it was lower to the ground, a stout neck giving way to a bulky head that was somewhere between a wolf’s and an anteater’s. Icy fangs glinted as it yawned, its beady green eyes surveying the cave for signs of a disturbance. Lifting its oddly long snout, it sniffed the air, drawing in great puffs, scenting out anything that didn’t belong. I clung to Navan, holding my breath, hoping it wouldn’t smell us.
It opened its mouth wide and let out a curious sound, partway between a wail and a song, which seemed to float across the cavern in a slow, melancholic melody that made me feel unexpectedly sad. Coming from any other creature, I might have thought it was a sweet sound, but this beast was anything but endearing. There was malevolence in its eyes.
Navan went still beside me, his gaze frozen on the monster.
“We need to get out of here,” I whispered, tugging on his arm. “Let’s regroup, figure out how we can fight this thing,” I continued, trying to make him turn around. I didn’t want to be nearby if that hulking beast decided to charge us.
“Navan?” I tugged at his arm again, but he wouldn’t budge. A strange noise rippled through the air toward me, a kind of growling hiss. At first, I thought it was coming from the scaly creature, but its mouth was shut now, its nostrils no longer sniffing at the icy air. With a shiver of dread, I realized it was coming from the back of Navan’s throat, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly with each grunt. He was panting like a frantic hound.
I lifted my hand to his shoulder. “Navan! Are you okay?” I asked, though I knew something was wrong. All I wanted was for him to turn and look at me, but his focus was fixed ahead. It was like I wasn’t even there. “Can you hear me?” I whispered, keeping one eye on the creature, who seemed frozen too, at the far side of the cavern.
As Navan’s shoulders relaxed, his growling easing, the creature opened its mouth wide and sang its curious song once more. The effect was instantaneous. It was like something had taken hold of Navan, making panic ripple through his veins, speeding up his breath. I could feel his pulse through his shirt, pounding like mad. Whatever song that creature was singing, it had a hypnotic effect on Navan. Somehow, it was controlling him.
“Navan, listen to my voice,” I said, hoping to soothe him back into reality.
His head whipped toward me, his eyes a strange, milky white, their gaze unfocused. I snatched my hand away, staggering back, but he just stood there, his muscles tensed. Drawing back his lips, he flashed his fangs at me. A growl rumbled from his throat. It was a warning.
“It’s me… Riley,” I breathed, praying that part of him would recognize my voice. There had to be a way to snap him out of this trance. “If you can hear me, reach out for my hand,” I said, lifting my own hand in his direction, though I was careful to keep enough distance between us.
His unfocused eyes glanced at my outstretched hand for a moment, but it was clear he had no idea who I was, or what I was doing. As his gaze flicked back up, meeting mine, a second growl emerged from his throat, louder than the last, and his lips curled in a savage snarl.
“Navan, you have to—” I didn’t get to finish. Without warning, he lunged at me, his wings spread wide, his fangs flashing hungrily. Before I had a chance to back away, or make a run for the cave exit, his hands grasped me by the shoulders, his fingers digging in until I thought my bones might shatter.
“Stop!” I shouted, but he couldn’t hear me. I was speaking to a stranger who didn’t recognize me as anything but the enemy. I could see the hatred burning in his white eyes, his mind and body under the influence of the beast’s strange song. This was the creature’s defense mechanism: it got the encroacher to do the dirty work. It made the attacker become the attacked. I didn’t know why the song wasn’t affecting me. I could only assume it had something to do with my human genetics.
“Let go!” I yelled, trying to fight against his fierce grip. “Navan, you’re hurting me!” I grimaced as his grip tightened, my whole body screaming out against the pain.
As tears of agony pricked my eyes, I lifted my leg and kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. It made no difference. Panic flooded through me, and I tried to slap his face with my tortured arms, but the impact barely made him flinch. I wasn’t strong enough, especially not with the sapping effect his savage grip was having on my muscles.
“NAVAN!” I roared, knowing I was running out of options. He wouldn’t listen, he couldn’t feel anything, and I wasn’t powerful enough to force him off me.
Thinking quickly, my arms feeling as though they were about to bre
ak in Navan’s grasp, I shoved the emberstone against his stomach, gripping the smooth edges as hard as I could, knowing it would heat the stone up to the burning point. I hated to do this to him, but I had no choice. As sparks erupted from within, burning up the fabric of Navan’s t-shirt and searing his flesh, I felt his grip on me loosen. His eyes flickered for a moment, a look of recognition passing across his face, just for a second. His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, but the moment disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Seizing the opportunity, I slipped out of his grasp before he could grab me again. The emberstone’s shock to his system had worked in snapping him out of his trance, but it hadn’t been applied for long enough. No, if I was going to snap him out of it completely, then I needed that shock to last longer.
As his eyes went blank again, the white fog intensifying, I turned and ran, wracking my brain for an idea. There had to be something I could do to stop him. My feet pounded the hard floor of the icy cave, my mind ever-conscious that I could slip at any moment. If I did, I knew there was every possibility that Navan would actually kill me. He didn’t know who I was. To him, I was a faceless enemy, and his only duty was to end me. Even so, I didn’t let the slippery terrain slow me down as I sprinted for the cavern’s exit.
Behind me, I could hear his wings as he took flight, setting my pulse racing. There was no way I could outrun him for long—but maybe I wouldn’t have to. In my head, a desperate idea was forming.
Sprinting out of the cavern, following the sound of rushing water, I turned left, into a tunnel we hadn’t been through before. At least Navan wouldn’t be able to fly in the narrow tunnel. He’d have to get back on his feet, giving me a momentary advantage. My lungs burning in my chest, I continued to run, keeping the sound of water at the forefront of my focus. I knew it had to give way to actual liquid at some point. If it didn’t, I was doomed.