ChapterThirty-One
The wind beats at my back as we travel through the vast Hematite landscape. The closer we get to Sharhavva, the sparser the trees, the dryer the ground, and the harder it becomes to find water.
A week passed, just like Hector said it would. I trained every day with Mildred before we left. Annaleigh was there too. I’m sure the old woman will never allow her to stray far. The more Mildred teaches me about my Bloodstone magic, the more I understand it, and the less I fear it.
My thoughts are constantly on Everly. We will rescue her soon. I refuse to believe anything else.
Occasionally, my gaze drifts to Cenric, riding near Hector, his jaw hard, his focus locked forward.
Is that the way Hector looked when I was away?
My chest tightens as I glance at my husband, taking in the fierce determination shining behind his eyes as he moves his army of thousands.
He’s doing something few have dared, leading an army to the Hematites’ front door. My heart races every time I think about attacking the Hematites’ capital city.
Sharhavva is well-fortified, but Hector seems determined to attack. Surely, it’s the right move, and the high gods approve, or the Seer wouldn’t be guiding Hector in this direction.
With each passing day, the terrain grows harsher, and the relentless sun beats down on us, leaving us parched and weary. We are forced to rely on the few streams and creeks we come across, hoping they will sustain us until we reach our destination.
When we don’t find water, Hero calls down water from the clouds, filling every bucket and crevice in the earth.
Eight days into the journey, we move through rugged paths with towering cliffs that casts long shadows over us, providing some respite from the relentless heat. Dust blows haphazardly in the wind, coating everything in our path. Even with linen covering my mouth and nose, it becomes increasingly difficult to breathe.
Hector raises his hand, signaling us to stop for the day. I glance up, staring at the sun buried beneath a thick orange haze. We set up camp, pitching our tents and starting a fire for warmth and light.
Cenric sits off to the side, sharpening his sword as he keeps a watchful eye on our surroundings.The other warriors hurry into tents, escaping the dust storm, but not Cenric. He sits, stoically honing his weapon, as if he’s defying nature.
He probably is. Or he’s thinking of the thousand different ways he’s going to murder the Hematite chieftain.
I step into my tent and remove the linen covering my face and grimace at the gritty sand coating my skin.
Olah is my witness. I would do anything for a river to bathe in right now. It doesn’t even have to be clear water.
As night falls, the wind howls with growing ferocity, lashing against the tent. I pull my blanket closer, seeking to fend off the biting cold that creeps into my bones like an unwelcome guest.
Hector shifts next to me and pulls me against him, his warmth sinking into me the way the blankets can’t.
“I don’t understand how the days can be so hot, and the nights so cold,” I say through chattering teeth.
Hector draws me even closer. “I will be happy when we return to Bloodstone land.”
“Me too.” It’s the first time I have said those words out loud, admitting that I will be content in Bloodstone land. “Will we go back to Karra soon?”
He runs his knuckles up and down my side. “Is that where you would like to be?”
“Yes. I like Karra.”
His teasing strokes raise goosebumps along my skin as he continues his up and down motion. “Would you like to build our family there?”
A surge of joy and anticipation swells in my chest as I lower my hand to my abdomen. “Do you see that happening? Enough peace to raise a family, and to not fear something bad happening to them?”
“Yes.”
I shift enough to meet his eyes. “Do you the see the six tribes united as one?”
“Yes. It starts with the Hematites. Once Jasce replaces Jerrod, the rest of Tarrobane will feel the might of the Bloodstone army and what it can accomplish. They will want to unite under one banner.”
“Your banner?” The question comes out soft, apprehensive.
