Solivagant

Chapter Thirty-Two

Leaving the forest was like a physical blow. One moment, Asher was trapped in the dense shadows of the trees. The next, his horse was trotting across a wide field of grass and the sky burst into view. It was a deep, pure blue, perfectly clear. Asher felt like he could get lost in it. The sun hung low to the west, bathing the world in a soft gold.

A cool breeze whispered through the brittle grass. Asher tilted his head back, letting it brush his thoughts away for the barest moment. He'd been in the mountains for weeks: this openness was a relief, familiar and inviting.

"Finally," Kain sighed, shifting impatiently in his saddle. He'd stayed with Asher and Rivas while the latter slept. Idris was drowsing even further behind them, letting her horse follow the others on its own.

Asher spared Kain a quick glance and looked back at the view. Sparse stretches of trees were all that remained of the forest, crisscrossing the open fields. Barely a half mile away, a town was nestled in the midst of a sprawling pattern of farmland. With a start, Asher recognized it as Evran, a village hardly more than ten miles southeast of Aleran.

Kain muttered a curse and started down the hilly land toward the village. "Rivas! Wake up—the kid's yours."

Rivas slowly lifted his head, his bleary gaze shifting from Kain's retreating figure to Asher. He let out a long sigh and sat up, scrubbing a hand across his eyes.

"How were your three hours of sleep?" Asher asked, hiding a bitter smile. He wasn't getting much rest himself, but the Valkir were hardly faring better. He guided his horse down the hill, scanning Evran's layout. It was small and compact, a tangled web of streets and wooden buildings.

"Lovely," Rivas replied coolly. "How was your time with Kain?"

Asher snapped his mouth shut and returned the Valkir's glare. He avoided Kain, and the man thankfully left him alone for the most part. Still, half of Asher's day had been spent locked in silence, a strange, angry, terrifying darkness crushing his heart every time he looked at the murderer.

With a flick of his wrist, Asher let some of his anger break loose in the form of a blue flame. Rivas stiffened, staring at the fire. Flashing him a grim smile, Asher weaved it between his fingers, a thin, intricate thread of flame. He'd practiced whenever Kain and Idris weren't looking—for whatever reason, Rivas hadn't bothered to tell them that Asher was free of the drug. He wasn't eager to be the one to let them know, but if a close call made Rivas uneasy he figured it was worth the risk.

I can use the practice anyways. Asher summoned some water from the air and forced it to twine around the fire, creating a loose loop around his arm. The two elements didn't work well together; if his concentration wavered, he'd be left with nothing but a load of steam. Asher twisted the cord with a flicker of thought, then made it race to his other hand.

"How much longer?" Asher asked suddenly, refusing to look at Rivas. "How much longer until we reach Crisea?"

Rivas paused. "Now that we're out of the mountains, about three days."

The fire flared white as Asher's fear spiked, evaporating the water in an instant. He took a deep breath and let the flames fade away, focusing on the soft warmth of the sun. "Okay."

"We'll be stopping. In Evran. For supplies." Rivas sounded stiff, and his shoulders were set in a tense line.

"And?" Asher replied warily.

"And you'll need this." Rivas reached into his cloak and tossed a vial at Asher, his expression unreadable.

Asher fumbled with it and tilted the container. The liquid inside glinted silver. "You want to knock me out again?"