The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 14: Reunited

It was him. That voice. I pushed away the scythe and threw myself in the general direction of his body, and to my great relief, his arms swept around me without hesitation. It had to be my imagination that he trembled and breathed deeply as he pressed his nose into my hair.

We clung to one another until the last battle cries faded, and without speaking, he led me to the edge of the camp and into the forest beyond it. I stared at him, searching for the familiar outline of his jaw or nose, but the longer I focused on him, the more blurred his shape became. Finally, I tore my eyes away, afraid of going cross-eyed.

Once we were in the trees, he didn't slow, pulling me down a steep hill and into a shallow ravine. There, he released my hand and rummaged for something on the ground. Stone struck stone and orange sparks flew. Moments later, our refuge glowed with torchlight and at last his face came into focus.

"Remiel," I whispered, exhaling through my nose as I bit my lip to stop the sudden urge to cry.

All these weeks, I would not let myself think of him any more than necessary because I had not been prepared for the great grief the loss of him had brought. It was unexpected and perhaps a bit unwanted.

"You're bleeding," he said, fastening the torch to the tree behind me. Cool fingers moved over the deep gash in my arm. The scythe must have cut me when I knocked it away because I didn't remember being cut by the two soldiers.

"You're different."

Remiel paused. Amber irises skated over my face and down to the place behind my ear where the white patch was hidden by the rest of my hair. Then dark lashes fell over his eyes like a curtain, hiding his thoughts from me as he replied.

"You as well." A deep sigh. "This really needs a healer. The wound is deep, though not to the bone. Why would you do something so foolish as to touch a Reaper's blade like that?"

"Why did you have it at my throat?" When he didn't answer, I pressed. "Did you not see me? Does whatever strange magic you now possess mess with your vision as well? What is that, by the way? You've never done it before."

"Because I couldn't do it before."

Remiel moved closer and touched my face. There was no imagining the trembling this time. I wanted to sink into his hand, let the weight of my head settle into his palm, but I resisted. I'd been used once by a man. It would not happen again.

Clearing my throat, I pulled away. "Is that something all Reapers can do?"

His arm dropped, and his fingers flexed at his side. "It's...complicated, but the short answer is no. Those who can are called Shadow Brothers."

I rubbed my arms to ward off a sudden chill. "Seems apt. Is that who attacked tonight?"

Remiel flipped a log over and patted the flat surface. "Let me clean this, and then we can get going."

"Going? Ouch," I gasped as he poured something cold and stinging over the wound. "Where are we going?"

"Morana." The exasperation in his voice was such a welcome sound that I smiled, grateful he could not see me with his head bent over my arm. "This wasn't some random attack on Edresh. We came here tonight to rescue you."

"And where will we go?"

"The Reapers have a haven in the city state of Thana. It's on an island about a hundred leagues from Araphel. It will be the safest place for you while we figure out how to stop the burning in Araphel so we can relight the portal. The stories of monsters and souls wailing in the night grow more and more numerous every passing hour."