Her lips twisted. “Evorsus is eternal night. Eversus is eternal day. Do these things ever sleep?”
“I haven’t seen a single one close their eyes,” Damon answered, mid-argument with Sadie.
“Maybe not sleep, per se, but they do rest,” the redcap countered. “There are times they get kinda slow, and their glowy little lanterns dim down. Then they curl up on us like cats. It’s one big cuddle pile.”
Meera frowned. “It’ll be hard to make an escape with them literally on top of us, assuming we have that long.”
“There’s also the fact that I’m pretty sure they don’t sleep, they just watch us,” Damon pointed out.
“How do you know that?” Sadie asked.
“Unlike you, I can’t fall asleep just anywhere surrounded by anything. They might be cute, but I never trusted them.”
“So you pretended to sleep?” Sadie said. “No wonder you’re such a dick. This is exactly why I sleep when I get a chance. You never know when the next one will be.”
And once again, the bickering continued.
We let them argue. It seemed to soothe them somehow. Or maybe it just helped them ignore the threat slowly encircling us like a morning fog. Inescapable.
“They’re not going to stop,” I muttered to Meera.
“I give it ten more minutes till it turns violent,” she whispered back, not looking up from her half-eaten food. “Five if Sadie remembers she still has that second dagger in her boot.”
“We need to get moving before then.”
“Agreed.”
Sadie and Damon were now arguing about which of them would be a more appealing entrée. Sadie claimed she was too stringy to be worth the trouble, citing Corvo as her source; Damon insisted she hadmain course energy. I tuned them out.
“We go when they go into rest mode,” Meera said quietly, her eyes scanning the perimeter. “When the lanterns dim.”
I nodded. “How long do you think we have?”
“Hard to tell,” Meera murmured as she looked past me. “But the ones in that corner are already starting to flicker.”
I followed her gaze. Sure enough, the glow from a cluster of lanterns near the far huts pulsed slower than the rest.
“We’ll need supplies,” I said. “More of them. We’re almost out of water and rations are low. We should grab whatever we can carry without drawing attention. Is everyone armed?”
Meera gave a slight nod. “Sadie’s got a couple daggers and her bracers that summon axes, if that still works here. My magic still works, so hopefully hers does too. I don’t know about Damon. I have what I grabbed from the safe house. What about you?” Her eyes flicked to the swords I’d been wearing since we left Warwick. “Anything else besides those?”
I tapped the hilt of a blade still strapped to my back. “I only have Wyrd Reaper and Hex Cleaver.”
Meera arched her brow. “You named your swords?”
I shook my head. “They were named well before my time. I simply use their names in respect to the blades.”
Meera nodded. “Hex Cleaver. I take it that one cuts through magic?” I tipped my chin in answer. “What about Wyrd Reaper? I haven’t heard of that one before. I’m guessing it doesn’t cut you down with some harsh words.” Her lips curled in a half-smile at the joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to share it. Not with the pressure we were under.
I glanced toward the tree line, watching as the shadows deepened and the air around the village started to hum with a muted and faint frequency. A change was coming, but was it simply the down time Sadie and Damon spoke of? Or was it a land shift?
“It cuts fate,” I said quietly.
Meera blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Wyrd Reaper. It’s a god-blade. Created by Amoret herself. It’s said to sever destinies.”
“Does it?” she asked.
