Blood of the King - Khirro's Journey Book 1 Page 0,125

Ghaul’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“But we can’t leave Shyn,” Elyea protested.

“Shyn’s dead. The rest of us need not die, too.”

“But we can take him to the Necromancer. He can bring him back.”

“He cannot be raised,” Athryn intoned solemnly. “Only living blood can be resurrected. If his heart has stopped, it is too late.”

“It might not be,” Elyea said clutching Khirro’s sleeve, looking to him for support. He wanted to give it, wanted Shyn to be alive, but every nerve in him said it was too late. “We have to be sure.”

“No,” Ghaul said firmly. “There is death for all of us down that passage. We have to go. Now!”

They stood in silence, each invisible with their thoughts and emotions before Ghaul pushed past, moving to the left tunnel. Athryn’s cloak stirred as he followed. Elyea’s ragged breath stayed at Khirro’s side. He reached his arm around her shoulders, careful not to stick himself on her dagger, and guided her toward the opening. At first her legs were stubborn, her feet dragging against the floor, but she soon followed, moving down the tunnel away from one unknown danger toward another, their companion left behind.

Chapter Forty-Seven

It would have taken hours to climb to the cavern’s ceiling, half a day to reach the far end. A cobalt glow emanated from everything; it lit the entire area leaving no corner or crevice in darkness. They’d seen the light seeping down the tunnel and hurried forward, anxious for their journey’s end, but they found no Necromancer—not here, not yet.

The cavern was empty except for stalactites hanging from the high ceiling, large enough they’d impale a man if they fell. Many became stalagmites halfway to the floor, joining top to bottom. Water dripped lazily from most of them, plopping into shallow puddles that trickled away to nowhere.

They stood at the entrance, awed and disappointed. The torpid blue light reflected in Athryn’s mirrored mask, changing it from silver to azure, the same color as his eyes.

“Where now?”

The dried blood on the edge of the sword Ghaul still grasped looked gray in the cavern’s glow and Khirro cringed as he posed the all-too-familiar question. Khirro opened his mouth to answer the same way he did every time the question was asked, but Athryn spoke first.

“We should rest. We are tired and it will be easy to keep watch here.” The magician’s tone was solemn. Ghaul grunted in response.

They kept the wall at their backs as they entered the cavern and picked their way through scree, fallen stalactites and puddles glowing a luminescent blue more dazzling than the rest of the cavern. Ghaul called a halt when they found a spot partially hidden by a boulder.

“I’ll take first watch,” Khirro volunteered and received no argument from the others.

Ghaul cast his pack on the ground, cleared an area of loose pebbles and stones, and lay down with his back to them, sword within easy reach at his side. Athryn removed his metal mask, stored it in his pack, and pulled on his black sleeping mask.

“We have no more food,” he said pulling the cloth over his scarred face.

Khirro nodded. “At least there’s water here.”

His belly growled a complaint as he spoke. Water wouldn’t be enough for long. In the darkness of the tunnel, shrouded in fear and danger as they fled first the dragon, then whatever killed Shyn, he hadn’t noticed the hunger burning deep in his belly. Now, in the light and the open, it twisted his gut, wringing aches and groans from it.

Elyea sat on a smooth-topped rock watching Athryn make himself a place to rest, then she looked at Khirro. He smiled half-heartedly; her lip twitched like she wanted to return the same but failed. Kneeling beside her, Khirro touched her arm lightly.

“Get some sleep. You’ll feel better.”

She nodded and looked to where Ghaul lay. Khirro leaned in and kissed her cheek, suddenly aware of the rough texture of his stubbled face, but she didn’t react disagreeably. Instead, the failed smile finally broke on her lips, though her eyes remained sad and wary. He left her clearing a spot for sleep and went to the other side of the boulder, away from his companions, where he’d have a clear view of the cavern.

Khirro sat with his back against the rock, the Mourning Sword laid bare across his thighs. The expansive cavern filled his vision. He’d never have guessed a cave this size existed. The craggy floor ran level from end to distant end, broken only by