Page 149 of The Blood Rites

Nyxen extends a hand and helps me up. I take it, because what else can I do?

I need to know if it was her.

Together, we walk towards the cave, the light sprites dancing around us like the eyes of a thousand dead friends.

They lead us down into the depths of the world.

There is no turning back now. Only the dark below.

The cave is a mouth, and it never stops swallowing. We pass through its teeth and into a throat of darkness so thick it feels like a blanket over my eyes. The air is wet and stinks of fungus.

Behind me, Nyxen breathes with perfect control.

I am hyper-aware of him. Every footstep echoes off the walls and multiplies. I can’t tell if he’s three paces ahead or if I’m breathing down his neck. I press my hand to the wall, feeling my way forward. The rock is clammy, slick with condensation, but the further we go, the warmer it gets. Like the tunnel is alive, and we’re moving deeper into its gut.

“Stay close,” Nyxen says, his voice carrying as if from everywhere and nowhere.

“I am,” I answer, though I don’t like admitting it.

The light sprites seem to have abandoned us. Some drifted down into the cave, but their glow is nowhere to be seen. The rest hovered at the entrance, forming a quivering barrier, marking the line between outside and in. I could use a little Mana to light the way, but I don’t want to drain myself. Nyxen can surely see in the dark. Everything will be fine if I stay close.

The tunnel narrows until we are walking in single file, my shoulder brushing against the wall. I reach out, and Nyxen is right there. It settles my panic a little. Even if I’m painfully aware that he could kill me at any moment and no one would ever find me. I shake off the thought. It’s not helpful.

“Can you see in the dark?” I ask, wishing to distract myself.

He huffs softly. “Well enough,” he says.

Without his eyes on me, I feel brave enough to ask another question. “Why didn’t you kill me earlier? You could have snapped my neck while I was hanging from that vine.”

He laughs—quiet, but not cruel. “You think I didn’t want to?”

“Why didn’t you then? If I’m such a problem.”

He is silent for a while, long enough that I start to think he won’t answer. Then: “You are Kael’s. That matters. That is why it is difficult.”

I stumble on a jutting piece of stone. “I’m not anyone’s.”

“You misunderstand,” he says. “In the Shadow Dominion, loyalty runs deeper than blood. Kael and I are…” he pauses, choosing his words. “I am sworn to him. I swore that oath when he was just a child. It is part of me, and I will not break it. That is the way.”

The way he says it sounds like magic. Like he has no choice. Maybe that’s true.

“And what about Vaelis? He seems loyal, too.”

Nyxen snorts. “Vaelis serves the Crown, but not out of love. It is all calculation for him. His family will be well rewarded for his sacrifice. For me, it’s simpler. I protect Kael, or I die.”

I can’t tell if that’s sad or terrifying. Maybe both.

The tunnel widens. Splits, I think, though my eyes still haven’t adjusted. Nyxen steps left, wordlessly, and I follow his lead.

The left passage tightens quickly, the ceiling so low we have to hunch. There is water running somewhere up ahead, a trickle at first, then a rushing torrent that gets louder with every step.

“Why does Kael trust you?” I ask. “Or is it not trust at all?”

Nyxen doesn’t answer straight away.

“Trust is irrelevant,” he says eventually. “It’s not required.”

“That’s not what I asked.”