Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,181

torturous, his cane beating hard with each step. He’d never have imagined making this walk again, she supposed. Never thought he’d be coming back here to fetch her—his finest, his failure—dragging her back to Godsgrave in disgrace. But the Revered Mother had apparently advised Mercurio it would be best if Mia were not present for initiation. Spiderkiller was furious that her favor had been squandered. Lord Cassius had no time for weakness, or weaklings, and he’d be arriving in the Mountain soon to anoint the others with his blood. Mia was to return to the ’Grave with her Shahiid, think long and hard about her future. She could come back to the Mountain and serve out her life as a Hand. Or she could decide that living in failure was unacceptable, and deal with the matter herself.

Drusilla had made it plain which option she preferred Mia take.

And she’d never had a chance to say goodbye to Tric …

“Come on, little Crow,” Mercurio sighed. “Never could stand these fucking pools. Sooner we get in, the sooner we get out.”

“Wait!” came a call.

Mia turned, heart surging, think perhaps he’d come to see her off. But instead, she saw Ashlinn running down the corridor toward her. Disappointment and joy all mixed together in Mia’s chest, Ash throwing her arms around Mia’s shoulders and squeezing tight, Mia hugging back for all she was worth.

“You were going to leave without a goodbye?” Ash demanded.

“I’ll be back,” Mia said. “A few turns or so.”

Ash took a knowing glance at Mia’s pack, the belongings inside. Saying nothing.

“You’ve the look of someone familiar,” Mercurio said. “What’s your name, lass?”

“Ashlinn,” the girl replied. “Ashlinn Järnheim.”

“You’re Torvar’s girl? How is the old bastard?”

“Same as he’s been for years. Half-blind. Crippled. Mutilated.”

“You did him proud, Ash.” Mia said. “You passed where others failed.”

“You didn’t fail, Corvere,” Ash replied. “Don’t ever think that.”

Mia smiled sadly. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it.” Ash squeezed her hand. “You never belonged here, Mia. You deserve better than this.”

Mia’s smile died. Confusion in her eyes. Mercurio growled with impatience.

“Come on, enough of the hugging shite. Let’s be off.”

Ash scowled at the old man. Looked to Mia, uncertain. She took a deep breath, as if about to plunge into dark water. And then she leaned in slow, cupped Mia’s face, and kissed her gently on the lips.

It lasted a moment too long. Perhaps not long enough? Warm and soft and honeysweet. Before Mia could decide, it was already over. Ash broke the kiss, squeezing Mia’s hand. A million unsaid words shining in her eyes. A million more on Mia’s tongue.

“… Say goodbye to Tric for me?” she finally asked.

Ash’s face dropped. She sighed. Nodded slow.

“I will. I promise.”

Mia let go of her friend’s hand. Looked around the walls. The glyphs and the blood. Wondering if this would be the last time she saw any of it. Glancing at Adonai, Mercurio, Ash. And with a deep breath, she stepped into the pool.

The red surged around her.

Mia closed her eyes.

And she fell.

Ashlinn stood for an age, there in the dark. She ran her fingertips across her lips, wondering about all that might have been. Watching Adonai watching the blood. That suicide beauty, coiled down here in the gloom. A spider in the center of his scarlet web, feeling for the faintest vibrations along its strands.

“When does the Lord of Blades arrive, great Speaker?” Ashlinn asked.

Adonai blinked. Looked up from the red as if surprised she was still there.

“When he arrives, little Acolyte,” he replied.

Ash smiled, gave a grand, sweeping bow and turned from the chamber. She trudged up the spiral stairs, thumbs in her belt, chewing at the end of one of her warbraids. The bells struck two and she cursed, quickened her pace. Climbing swift through the Mountain’s heart, up to the massive deck of the Sky Altar.

The room had been cleaned, the places set for the initiation feast. The kitchens were jammed and noisy, but the altar itself was deserted. All save for a solitary figure, off in the shadow, leaning against the railing and staring out into the dark.

“How goes, Tricky?”

The boy glanced up, nodded greeting. Turned his eyes back to the rolling wastes below. The endless, beautiful night.

“I never get tired of seeing this,” he said.

“It’s a sight,” Ash agreed, leaning on the rail beside him.

“Oz said you wanted to speak to me,” he murmured. “About Mia.”

“She’s gone back to Godsgrave for a turn or two. Get her head straight.”

“I still can’t fathom it,” Tric sighed. “Of