Chapter Twenty-Eight

The lack of movement gradually roused Asher from sleep. He groaned and cracked his eyes open, breathing in the musty scent of his horse. A stream broke across the rocky ground in front of him, reflecting the dark clouds that clogged the sky. The dull burning in his throat flared at the sight; over the past few days, Rivas hadn't given him any more water than absolutely necessary. Some sort of petty punishment, perhaps, or he simply wanted Asher weak.

Asher ground his teeth and sat up. If that was the case, then the Valkir would find himself sorely disappointed.

A strange chill drew his eyes to the north, where a mountain towered over the treetops. Asher shuddered; he remembered the twisted magic that had poured from that peak, so strong that even Wade and Henry seemed to feel it. Aurum had said that something terrible had happened there, but had refused to go into further detail. Not like Asher had been eager to learn more. Everything about this place had unnerved him.

Asher scanned the jagged cliffs, biting his lip. He understood why Serafina had hidden near its base; no sane magic-user would dare to stray too near. It was a horrible, brilliant place to vanish. But why, out of all places, would the Valkir stop here?

Asher tore his gaze away, seeking out the assassins. Kain had dismounted, fiddling with his horse's reins. Idris, strangely enough, was nowhere to be seen. And Rivas, a few feet to Asher's left, was sound asleep on his horse. Asher stared at the man for a long moment—he'd forgotten that he also needed rest. The assassin looked so vulnerable, too, trapped in sleep and precariously balanced on the saddle.

"Don't even think about it," Rivas muttered, eyes still closed.

Asher flinched. "You're not human."

"Correct." The assassin tugged his hood over his face and turned away, ignoring Asher's incredulous glare.

After a moment, Asher sharply shook his head. Jt wasn't like he could have done anything, anyways. He carefully got off of his horse, wincing as pain lanced up his numb legs. He'd been wondering when the Valkir were going to let the horses rest; after being forced to hold a steady pace for days on end, they looked near collapse.

At least, it felt like it had been days. Asher had lost track of time, drifting in and out of consciousness as he tried to regain his strength.

Asher sighed, placing a hand against his parched throat, and took a step toward the stream. The air instantly solidified around his chest, freezing him in place.

"Where are you going, kid?"

Asher whipped his head around and met Kain's gaze, baring his teeth. He'd never get used to the sound of that murderer's voice. "I'm getting a drink. Is that acceptable, or would you like to stab me again?"

Kain's eyes flashed, but the pressure vanished. He grinned coldly. "If you leave my sight, I will."

Asher turned and took a shuddering breath, hugging his arms to his chest as he kneeled beside the stream. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, trying to focus on the water. Polished rocks lined its sides, glittering with a thin layer of ice. He dipped one finger in the current, hissing at the sudden cold. Before he could change his mind, Asher and plunged his hands through the surface. He bent and drank as quickly as he could, grimacing as the water clawed down his throat. It felt like his insides were freezing over.

When he could stand it no longer, Asher hastily withdrew his hands and dried them off. He stood and paced beside the stream, trying to breathe some life back into them. At least his thirst had slackened somewhat.

"Rivas."

Asher glanced up at Kain, who bore a faintly impatient expression. Rivas hadn't budged—it looked like he was truly asleep now.

With a muttered curse, Kain walked to Rivas' horse and struck the other man's leg. Rivas bolted upright, jagged bolts of electricity bursting to life around his hands. Kain backed away, a challenging sort of smile breaking across his face.

"We're stopping. Thought I'd let you know."

Rivas froze; for a moment, Asher thought he was going to punch Kain. Then his expression stilled, and the lightning faded. "I can see that."

A pause. "Well? Are you going to get down?"

"At some point in my life, yes," Rivas snapped, his even tone faltering for a moment.

Neither Valkir moved. Then Kain turned, a curious triumph in his eyes, and strode away. Rivas stiffly dismounted and headed toward the stream; Asher withdrew, half-hiding behind a tree as the man passed him. The two definitely didn't like each other, but he hadn't yet found a way to use that to his advantage. He slid to the ground, keeping an eye out for Idris. If she'd gone to gather wood for a fire, he was willing to sacrifice his pride for warmth.

A few minutes ticked past. Idris didn't appear. Kain busied himself with the horses. Rivas stayed beside the stream, gazing up at the sky. Asher grew colder. He idly reached for the magic, colliding uselessly against the drug's barrier. He'd made a habit of it, testing the fuzzy wall, digging beneath it, poking at its holes. Cracks began to form after half a day or so, but Rivas would soon readminister the drug and they'd repair themselves.

Asher closed his eyes, a sudden, unreasonable yearning to reconnect with the world widening the ache in his heart. As much as he had avoided it, magic was still a part of him—without it, he felt weaker, almost sick. It wasn't right.

With a start, Asher realized that a portion of the barrier had crumbled. He held himself back, wary of another uncontrollable explosion. A strange chill broke through the opening, twisting and growing through his mind like a frost.

The bite of icy metal against his neck forced his eyes back open. Rivas stood above him, the flat of his sword pressed below Asher's ear. They stared at each other, unmoving, as another gust of wind whistled through the dying trees.

"This is the last place you would want to use magic," the Valkir finally said, his voice distant.

"I... I didn't do anything."

"A few minutes more, and you would have." Rivas tilted the blade; Asher was forced to twist his head away before it nicked his chin. He flinched as the assassin moved closer, withdrawing the container that he kept the drug in with his free hand.

"Like what?" Asher asked wearily. "There's three of you."

"Something stupid, I'm sure."

Despite himself, Asher felt his lips twitch. "I thought you said I was clever."

Rivas didn't reply. Careful not to move too quickly, Asher dared to raise his hand and tap the blade at his throat. The metal was so cold, it almost hurt. "Can you put this down now?"

The Valkir narrowed his eyes, but, to Asher's surprise, sheathed his sword. Then he kneeled beside Asher, pulling out the needle, and gave him an expectant look.

With a heavy reluctance, Asher extended one arm. The Valkir pressed his fingers into the crook of his elbow, easily finding the vein hidden there. Asher hissed as the needle pierced his skin; then Rivas sat back, and it was over.

Asher dully watched the assassin clean the needle as the drug's suffocating presence returned. A wave of dizziness came with it; he fell against the tree with a harsh breath as the world flickered. Rivas' arm twitched, as if to steady him, but the man seemed to think better of it.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Asher stared at him. After a confused silence, realization slowly dawned on Rivas' face. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps that was the wrong choice of words."

"Yeah, perhaps." Asher swayed, his head feeling strangely heavy. This time, Rivas did lean forward to right him. Asher flinched and shoved the Valkir away, digging one hand into the soft dirt to steady himself.

"...You're dehydrated." With a heavy sigh, Rivas unhooked his flask from his belt, holding it out. Before Asher could grab it, however, he pulled it away and narrowed his eyes. "If you throw it again, you won't be drinking anything else for the next day."

"Kraven es." As always when Asher used Nemarian, Rivas hesitated; Asher quickly snatched the flask and lifted it to his lips. The water was as miserably cold as everything else, but at least his hands were spared another ice bath. He downed as much as he could before shoving it back at the assassin.

"You do realize that I'm the one who has to feed you, right?" Rivas said mildly, putting the flask away.

Asher drew his knees to his chest, shivering. "You haven't fed me." The ache of hunger was no stranger to him, but the reminder sent an awful pang through his stomach.

Rivas pressed his lips together and stood, brushing off his knees. "You'll live." His gaze drifted to the side; Asher followed it and saw a wavering light painting the trees behind them.

Clutching the trunk for support, Asher rose as well. Pride for warmth. "Is that Idris?"

"No, she left to speak with her cousin." Rivas turned, running one hand through his hair as he started toward the fire.

Asher's head swam; he closed his eyes, pressing his temple against the tree's trunk. "This drug... don't we need magic to survive? We're partly made of it, aren't we?"

Rivas froze and glanced back, his face half-lost in the darkness. "That's... very perceptive of you." He paused. "You're tied more closely to magic than most, but you'll be fine. Weak, perhaps, but fine."

"Weak," Asher repeated bitterly, curling his hands into fists. The dizziness had faded somewhat; with a muttered curse, he pushed past the Valkir and stumbled toward the light of the fire. When he saw Kain warming his hands by the flames, however, he hung back. Rivas slipped by without a second glance and slumped beside the other Valkir.

The cold finally drove Asher onward. He sat across from the two men, huddling close to the flames. Its searing heat crept across his skin, burning away the numbness that had settled in his bones. There was a long silence, filled only by the crackle of the fire. Asher considered trying to sleep, but the strange chill in his heart remained. In fact, it only seemed to get worse the more time passed.

"Here."

Asher lifted his eyes. Rivas tossed something at him; he barely managed to catch it before it struck his chest. A piece of bread, dense and heavy in his hand. He wordlessly tore into it, shifting closer to the fire. It was stale, rough, and, in that moment, the best thing he'd ever tasted.

Kain stretched out across the ground, lacing his fingers behind his head. "You forgot to give him food, didn't you?" When Rivas didn't answer, he snickered. "You're a true natural at this."

"Feel free to take my place."

"Soren told you to take care of him. Besides, you're the best with needy toddlers—"

"Stop talking." Asher fought to keep his voice steady as he scarfed down the rest of the food and looked at Kain. He was just a man. A twisted, horrible man, but a man.

"Oh?" Kain propped himself upright, a challenge in his eyes. "Why?"

"Your voice," Asher droned. "It's annoying."

Kain's smile was feral. The fire suddenly leapt; Asher yelped and scrambled away as the flames reached for him, their heat intensifying until it felt as if his skin were burning off. Rivas went rigid, his gaze flicking between the two of them.

"Would you like to repeat that?" Kain asked, idly tracing the dirt with one finger.

"No." Asher swallowed, his gaze darting between the man and the flames. He tried to move farther away, but they mirrored his movement. "No, I was wrong. Your voice is perfectly lovely, you sadistic shikat."

Kain's grin widened. The fire suddenly surged; a few flames shot forward and encircled Asher's forearm. Blistering agony clawed across his skin; Asher screamed and jerked back, a stream of curses spilling from his mouth.

A soft laugh. The fire snapped back into its normal place, leaving Asher panting a few feet away. He doubled over, his fingers hovering over the burn already blossoming across his skin. He swore again, blinking away tears of pain.

Kain smirked and laid back down, closing his eyes. "If I were you, Asher, I'd stop testing my patience."

Asher flinched and backed away. Rivas saying his name was bad enough; Kain doing so made him want to scream. His name didn't belong in their minds. It wasn't theirs to use.

"Kain..." Rivas let out a long sigh, resting his chin in one hand.

"What? I'm tired of him acting like a feisty child."

Rivas didn't reply. His eyes flicked over to Asher, and he tilted his head. Asher winced; he must have looked pathetic, shivering in the bitter wind but now too afraid to draw closer to the flames.

The pain in Asher's arm suddenly dulled—he glanced down, stunned, as the angry red mark on his skin faded away, until it was hardly visible. He hesitantly touched his wrist: a deep, sharp pain flickered through his arm, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. Rivas' gaze hung heavy on his shoulders; Asher refused to meet it, curling his hand into a fist.

A rustle. Asher tensed as Idris emerged from the trees, idly twirling a dagger. The woman ignored him, striding to the edge of the fire. Her face was oddly pale.

"What's wrong?" Rivas asked after a moment.

"Rhea."

Kain opened one eye. "Is she dead?"

"No." Idris folded her arms. "But she was too late. His friends"—she jerked her head in Asher's direction—"found the other dragons."

Asher sagged in relief; suddenly, the cold wasn't so bad. They were okay. They were safe.

"King Soren won't like that," Kain observed dryly.

Idris' eyes flashed. "He didn't. To make matters worse, she also swore that she wouldn't follow them. She's refusing to keep following."

"Why?"

"I..." Idris slowly shook her head. "I have no idea."

"That's Rhea, all right," Kain grunted.

"What did Soren say?" Rivas spoke quietly, his eyes tilted up toward the sky as he thought.

"Rhea is to come back to Crisea. We are to keep moving. If his friends keep moving, then we'll have to let them go. But if they come back for him..." Idris' gaze lingered on Asher. "We'll be ready."

Asher squirmed, his heart twisting oddly. Every time the thought of rescue crossed his mind, he'd forced himself to ignore it. Serafina and Aurum were the only ones with the power to help him, and they wouldn't stand a chance. And that was, of course, assuming they would come. Serafina had Kira to worry about, and without Aurum Wade and Henry were defenseless. It would be risky. It would be stupid. They would get themselves killed.

So why did some small part of Asher still hope?

Stop. Asher shook his head a little. This was exactly why he didn't want to think about it.

Another gust of wind swept through the forest, sending a flurry of sparks in Asher's direction. He coughed and shielded his eyes from the smoke, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. It really was cold. With a wary glance at Kain, Asher crept closer to the fire. Strangely enough, he only felt a whisper of heat emanating from the flames. He hesitated and held one hand next to it, frowning. Nothing.

Another bitter gale; the flames weakened, curling in on themselves. Rivas stilled, a strange look flitting across his face. Idris froze as well, placing a hand over her chest.

"Idris," Rivas said slowly, his voice low, "are we far enough from the mountain?"

"Yes." Idris didn't sound convinced.

Without warning, Rivas shot to his feet, spinning on his heel to examine the woods. Asher jumped and peered into the darkness, his skin crawling. Fear did not suit the assassins.

"Calm down, Riv," Kain growled, getting to his feet. One hand drifted toward his belt. "It's impossible that it could..."

A strange rushing filled Asher's ears, drowning out the Valkir. Cold shredded through him; he whirled around, quickly spotting the thing watching him from between two trees. It was like a man, but warped, as if its limbs had been stretched and broken. Darkness emanated from the creature—it almost seemed blacker than the shadows around it, and it was impossible to make out anything but the sharp gleam in its eyes.

Before Asher could cry out, the fire sputtered and died. He stood in the darkness for three heartbeats, petrified; then Rivas was grabbing his arm, dragging him to the side. Asher stumbled on the uneven ground but matched the Valkir's pace, panic flooding through him as he tried to make sense of what he'd seen.

"What..." Asher gasped, his voice catching as he tripped over a rock. His eyes should have adjusted by now. Why was it so dark? "What was that?"

Rivas only ran faster, fire flooding to life around his free hand. The light was nearly as blinding as the thick darkness; Asher nearly fell again before his vision returned.

Idris screamed behind them. Rivas skidded to a halt, the flames writhing around his fingers roaring higher. Asher felt something wet against his leg; they were next to the stream. The water was crashing downwards, twice as fast as it had been before. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he drew closer to the assassin.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Asher stammered when Rivas didn't continue. Every part of him begged to keep running, he slammed his forearm into Rivas' elbow, forcing the man to release him. Rivas growled and twisted around, half of his face drenched in shadow.

"Saving them."

Asher forced himself to hold still. Without magic, he was helpless on his own. "How?"

"Do you want to die?" Rivas hissed. He was searching the woods again, his eyes filled with a forced calm.

"No."

"Then stay quiet."

Asher pressed his lips together, trembling. A flicker of movement caught his eye; he whirled around and saw the shadowy creature behind them. It twisted its head, a motion that would've broken the neck of an ordinary man, and stepped forward. The movement was eerily graceful, despite its broken appearance.

"R-Rivas," Asher managed to gasp, shrinking away from the shadow. Rivas turned and froze, his face impassive. An aching silence fell as he and the creature stared at one another, unmoving.

"A Raek," Rivas finally whispered. Asher stiffened. Raek. Death, in Nemarian.

As if triggered by the label, the creature lunged, outstretching one malformed arm. Rivas opened his hand, allowing the fire to flood outward, but the flames passed directly through the shadow. Asher stumbled back, chest heaving. He'd never felt more helpless.

Rivas snarled; the fire brightened until it was almost too dazzling to look at. The Raek shrieked, an unnatural scream that shook Asher's very bones. It froze, twitching and shaking; the cold grew worse, clawing at Asher's blood.

An invisible force suddenly crashed into Asher's side, pressing him into the earth. He yelped as it pinned his arms to the ground, making it nearly impossible to move. The Raek jerked toward him, eyes glittering, before another blast of Rivas' fire forced it backwards. The Valkir's face was twisted in concentration—whatever he'd done to the flames, he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

Indeed, as the thought crossed Asher's mind Rivas shuddered and dropped to one knee. His eyes drifted to Asher; fear, wild and unfiltered, flashed across his face. Asher's heart stuttered even as the raging flames flickered and died, drenching the forest in darkness once more.

Then Rivas, eyes still locked on him, raised one shaking hand. The drug's barrier shattered.

The cold worsened a thousand times over, as if Asher had plunged into an icy lake. His breath faltered, snatched from his lungs. Now he could sense the dark magic swarming around them, pulsing with an indescribable sense of wrongness. Asher instinctually retreated within himself, drawing upon his own magic. Goaded by his fear, it eagerly raced to his aid, warm and comforting and whole.

The Raek, nearly invisible in the sudden darkness, turned. Asher backed away, his magic breaking free in a flash of golden flame. He shoved the force holding him back with his newfound strength and struggled upright, half-stepping in front of Rivas.

"Don't... don't let it touch you," Rivas said, his voice almost too weak for Asher to hear.

A strangled sound escaped Asher's mouth as the shadow crept toward them. He directed his own fire at the Raek, focusing on its presence in the magic. His energy collided with the creature's, and another wave of ice broke through him. He whimpered and poured his magic into the Raek, wanting that awful darkness gone, gone, gone.

A harsh light gradually collected around Asher's hands and the Raek, which went rigid. Its mouth dropped open as a few cracks broke across his skin, and another earsplitting scream tore at Asher's ears. A tendril of smoke broke free from the cage of light and reached for Asher's cheek; he let out a wordless cry and pushed harder against the Raek's twisted magic, clawing through its barrier.

Something shifted as Asher broke through; he felt a rush of power, and knew that victory was his. Then, without warning or another sound, the Raek's form wavered and snapped, dissolving into a few scraps of smoke, which curled up to the canopy and disappeared.

The release was palpable. Warmth rushed back into the air; the strange silence vanished. Asher wobbled and fell to his knees, then his side, gasping for breath. His energy was gone; the world flickered around him, empty and dim. A strange chill still lingered inside of him, and he couldn't stop shivering.

"Asher?"

Asher turned his head to look at Rivas. The man had dropped to his hands and knees, his head lowered as he took a few deep breaths. Asher opened his mouth, hardly able to summon his voice. "Wha-what just happened?"

Rivas sat back, swaying. "You... destroyed it."

"Oh." Asher's voice faltered. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the soft dirt. "Can I sleep now?"

The Valkir stared at him. "You don't need to ask."

"Okay," Asher mumbled, already drifting. The darkness that enveloped him was warm, nothing like the Raek's. He gladly followed it.

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