Freya

I press my fingers to the walls of the cave as they narrow in, the rough stone guiding me through the dips and curves of the earth. In the darkness, silence ensues, so loud I can hear the beat of my pulse in my neck.

Somewhere ahead, water drips methodically against the ground. A pebble rolls across the ground. I pause, glancing over my shoulder.

"Alaric?"

"I'm here."

A hand finds me in the darkness, wrapping around my wrist and gently guiding me forward. I blink, only able to make out the shape of his face even as I draw close.

"How far does this cave run?" I whisper, afraid to disturb the silence.

"It seems like it keeps going on," he says, "I can't say for how long."

I draw my arms in on myself, glancing up. No lumin bugs light our way. It's cold and dark and narrow.

"Why are we here, Alaric?"

He doesn't answer immediately, the outline of his face turning away from me. "We are drawn to the lumin. In Torinne, places with lumin are sacred. They connect us to our senses, guide us to the truth."

"There aren't any lumin this far into the cave."

"They were at the entrance. I thought if we went farther..." he trails off. "I'm trying to understand."

"Understand... me?"

He reaches forward, grabbing my arm gently. When I don't protest, he turns over my wrist, pulling up the cloak to reveal an inch of my skin. In the darkness, I can't see the markings.

"You never told me when these first appeared," he says. "But I was in the Saulun mountains that day. I saw you before you touched the hyacerite, and directly after. I know they were not there before."

I hesitate. "What does that mean?"

"I... I don't know. But they appeared when you first gained your mother's power and they grew last night when you summoned it once again. Something happened in that cloud, something that perhaps you don't remember," he says gently. "Something none of us understand. I for one want to know what."

"And Hana?" I try again, holding my breath and praying that he doesn't shut down like the previous time.

"Hana has different priorities."

His words settle in the silence. I do not think he understands the weight that they hold.

"You had the same priorities as she did when we first met," I point out. "What changed?"

He stares at me, dissecting my face. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"I never intended for you to face harm," he says honestly. "You're kinjri. We have to stick together."

"My mother was kinjri."

"You are kinjri," he says again.

"Say that's true, that you never wanted to harm me, you were okay with me harming everybody else?"

He furrows his brows. "Don't you see? There are so few Kinjri left because of Elel."

"Not because of Elel, because of Ereon. Most people in Elel don't even know what you are."

"What we are. We are the same, Freya." He holds my wrist. "I know you can feel it, too. I know you ignore it because it scares you. But it's there, Freya. It's who you are."

How he knows, I'm not sure. It's eerie how easily he can read me, how he knows my darkest thoughts. And as we stare at one another, enveloped in the darkness, parts of his face become visible to me. The line of his nose, whites of his eyes. His hands, warm against my wrist, send bolts of energy up my arm. It's all I've ever wanted, deep within, to feel truly known, truly understood.

He steps closer, raising a hand to cup the side of my face.

"Stop running from it," he whispers. His touch is gentle; tingles rest beneath his fingertips. "I see it in you. I can feel it in you."

When I don't move, he brings my hand to his chest, placing it atop his heart. I feel its steady beat beneath his clothes, under his skin. It seems to pulse right from the tip of my fingers up my arm. Flickering my eyes to his, I realise how close he is. Our breath mingles together, the tip of his nose brushes mine.

For a moment, I wish I could close my eyes, focus on the energy of his beating heart. But despite the warmth in his words, the soft tone of his voice and softness of his features, I long for something different. Something darker, sharper, colder.

Killian.

The memory of him in the cloud covers my vision, filling in the expansive black view before me.

It wasn't real, Freya, I tell myself. It wasn't real.

But the thought is not convincing. Killian's body wasn't in the Saulun mountains. But that does not mean he survived unscathed.

In the darkness, my eyes blur. I blink to clear them, taking a shaky breath and stepping away to create distance between us. As if sensing my shift of thought, Alaric drops my hand, leaving it cold.

"I can still feel the call of the cave," Alaric says, voice softer. "I want to keep going. You don't have to join me."

"Do you think we'll find the answers you're looking for?"

He pauses. "I don't know."

I think of Killian, and his unwillingness to give up, and take a deep breath. "Then let's keep going until we know."

~

Casimir

Winter thrashes through the wind, harsh against any exposed skin as we crouch in the underbrush. Above, the stars and the moon highlight our path through the trodden forest. Yet the absence of the cloud makes the air bitterly cold, sharp to breathe in.

In my chest, my heart thumps as Killian slinks from the treeline into the street. I use one hand to pull my coat over the lower half of my iced face.

I've never been to Dadun before. The only villages I've visited within Elel are Veymaw and Portson. While Dadun maintains the same architecture and its streets are reminiscent of Veymaw, but poorly maintained, the cobblestones look wobbly underfoot.

The sun has long set, making way for the moon on this unusually clear night. It should ease my nerves, settle the pit in my stomach. But as I perch beside Sanaa in the underbrush waiting for Killian's signal, I've never felt more on edge.

In the back of my mind, a seed of doubt sprouts.

If Trina was wrong, if Freya isn't here, then what?

Killian tips his head ever so slightly to the right, sending Sanaa into movement.

"Let's go."

We stick to the shadows cast by the overstretched branches, shifting beneath the awnings of a cottage. It's too late at night to try and blend in. And Dadun's the kind of village where any stranger is noticed.

The sleepy village does not wake as we slink through its streets. Killian leads the way, expertly navigating the village as if he's been here before. Most of the buildings remain dark, save for a few with candlelight emanating through the windows.

Killian passes them all.

We keep walking through the dimly lit streets, only stopping on a side street. Killian tilts his head, nodding at Sanaa.

"I hear it," she whispers, only loud enough for me to hear right beside her, but he catches it anyway.

"Hear what?" I ask.

Sanaa glances at me. "Torinnians."

Killian uses two fingers to gesture towards a small cottage on the edge of the street. A warm light flares against the foggy sheet of glass, slightly ajar. Creeping closer, I feel my heart in my feet with each step. I press myself against the wall on the other side to Sanaa and Killian, attuning my ears. Eventually voices waft through the wood towards me, slightly muffled.

"He wanted her to rest," a voice says, high but raspy. There's something familiar about it, something I can't quite place. "Says it would only strengthen her."

"And what do you think? Think he's gone soft?" The other voice is deep. Unfamiliar.

A pause. "I don't know yet."

It clicks into place. I'm transported back to the cave in Torrinne, when the rebel shifters ambushed us. She was there then, playing some passive aggressive exchange with Killian. In the Saulun mountains too, holding Killian hostage.

Hana.

I sneak a glance at him, but he seems neither disturbed or surprised by her presence.

"They've been gone a while," the deeper voice says.

"Harris is with them," Hana says. "He'll report anything out of the ordinary."

There's a long silence that stretches between them. "And what about the girl?"

"Lei?" Hana laughs. "She's with them right now. Somewhere in the forest. I wouldn't worry about her."

This garners Killian's reaction. His entire body tenses, head shooting up to match gazes with Sanaa. And for perhaps the first time, I'm sure of what I see in his expression. Hope.

I feel it too, the confirmation rolling throughout me. Lei is here. Alive. The last I saw of her was in that cave. I never asked Killian what happened to her, but I knew she wasn't in the Saulun mountains.

I'd assumed the worst. And from Killian's reaction, I wasn't the only one.

"You underestimate her, Hana. She's smart, and she's trying to find a way out."

"Lei cares only about saving herself." She dismisses their concern. "And she won't find a way through Alaric."

A look passes between Killian and Sanaa at the name. I shift forward, trying to get in better earshot.

"Did you hear that?" Both voices pause.

With a glance from Sanaa, I slink backwards, shifting into the shadows cast by an awning from the nearby packed down market stall. The door wedges open, revealing an empty space where Killian and Sanaa stood.

Hana emerges from the cabin, scanning the ground before her. I duck from view, holding my breath as Killian appears before me, ushering me into the shadow of the treeline where Sanaa waits.

"Lei's alive," Killian says. "She's here."

"And I'll bet where Lei is, so is Freya," Sanaa says.

"They said she was in the forest. With Alaric." Once again, they exchange looks. "Do you know him?"

"I did," Killian admits.

"And?"

He grimaces. "Not my biggest fan."

"Should we be concerned that Freya is with him? Would he... hurt her?"

Killian doesn't respond. "If he thinks she is connected to you," Sanaa asks, "would he..."

"Alaric would do anything to get to me."

My stomach drops. "There's no reason for him to know that you two know each other, that you were working together." That Freya cared for you.

"He'll know," Killian says, offering no elaboration. "If he's with her, he'll know."

"Then we better find her," Sanaa says. "Fast.