Page 64 of In Darkness Forged
“Aislin.”
She blinked and stirred, lifting her head and peering around.
“We must stop for a moment. I cannot continue on without a rest.”
Even in the dark, the depth of her embarrassment was evident.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, and tried to pull away from him.
He set her feet on the ground, and she took a hasty step back, scrubbing her cheeks and brushing at her clothes.
“I did not mean to fall asleep.”
“It was as well you did,” Tal told her honestly. “We are nearer the surface now, and more predators lurk in these parts of the cave.” He reached for his magic and decided it would have to be enough. Drawing his dagger from his belt, he pushed a tendril of power into the blade until the silver tracings ignited with a soft glow. “This is intended for other purposes, but for now, it will have to serve as a lantern.”
Aislin accepted it, the soft glow lighting up the planes and angles of her face, highlighting the dark smudges under her eyes and the tired but pleased smile on her lips. “Thank you.”
“It is even more deadly with magic in the blade, so use caution,” he warned. “If you trip, you could find yourself missing a finger or an eye.”
She shot him a sideways glance that very clearly indicated her annoyance at being treated like a child. “I have watched you use these to great effect, so I promise I will do my utmost not to cut myself.”
They continued on, and the strange, metallic taint in the air grew stronger, to the point that even the human wrinkled her nose.
“What is that smell?” she asked curiously. “Bats? Or something else?”
“I do not know.” Tal did not believe it was bats. This smelled more like… blood.
There, on the floor beneath his feet—a wet, dark smear splashed across the rocks, leaving bits of flesh caught in the rough surface.
Tal crouched to sniff at the stain and confirmed his suspicion.
“Something died here,” he said shortly, drawing his sword. “And the blood has not yet dried.”
Aislin drew in a quick breath and gripped the dagger until her knuckles whitened. “Was it… a person?”
“No. The blood is different.”
In what seemed an unconscious need for reassurance, she pressed closer as they rounded the next corner, where they were forced to scramble down a short incline. The other side was too steep, so Tal sheathed his weapon and climbed up first, lifting Aislin up after him. She shut her eyes and pressed her lips together as the strain pulled on her injured ribs. When her feet were under her once more, she stumbled, and ended up leaning on Tal for a moment, her forehead resting against his shoulder.
His hand was halfway to stroking her hair in an unconscious gesture of comfort when she lifted her head and grimaced.
“Sorry,” she muttered, stepping away and offering him an apologetic grimace. “I don’t mean to be a burden. Everything will heal eventually.”
Tal smothered a curse and dropped his hand, drawing his sword again before leading the way forward through the tunnel. His body and mind kept falling further into this wretched conflict. He knew better than to allow any deeper attachment than they’d already formed, but his heart had other ideas, and his arms were happier when she was in them.
Of all the ridiculous things, for him to become obsessed with ahuman…
And that was when they found the first body.
“Mother of all Abreia,” Aislin swore softly. “What could have done this?”
The shattered remains of an arantha lay spread out before them—legs, thorax, and the swollen sac of its body laying in pieces. Ichor dripped from the rocks, filling the air with that now-familiar metallic stench.
“A blade, I believe,” Tal said tersely, crouching as he eyed the remains.
“Rhone?”
“Quite possibly. But if his pack has already come this way, the aranthas will be both awake and angry, and we will have a much more difficult time sneaking past their outer sentries.”