Solivagant

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.