Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,45

wrong step would send them hurtling down. Quinn looked out over the edge as they climbed higher, but it didn’t make her heart beat any faster, nor did her palms sweat. She simply stared into the abyss as tiny pebbles fell from the rim. The sounds of them bouncing off the rockface echoing up the gorge.

Too soon they were back on a wider path with nothing but threadbare trees and miles of compact dirt. Quinn eyed the path warily, growing bored until the slight hum of other’s fear pulled at her senses. She blinked and eyed the three in front of her, finding their apprehension both amusing and pleasantly sweet. There was nothing up here, but they were worried. She glanced down at the large hands holding the reins. The three in front of her were worried. Lazarus was unaffected.

“Do you hear that?” Dominicus asked, breaking the silence. His gruff voice was low, a rumble of thunder in his chest.

All eyes turned to him. “Hear what?” Lorraine asked, confused.

“Nothing,” he replied, his shoulders tight. “There’s no sound at all.”

Ahead, Draeven slowed his mount and glanced back. His gaze met Lazarus’ for a brief moment as they all came to a slow stop along the path. Something passed between the men—an understanding of sorts.

“Let’s stop and make camp before the day is completely gone,” Draeven announced. Lazarus nodded towards a section where the trees split off slightly—just enough for the horses to pass through single file.

Unsheathing the sword anchored at his hip, Draeven drove it through the branches of the trees, marking a decidedly easier path for the rest of them as they moved into the gloom of the forest. The nature of this wood, however, was much different than the one they had slept in the night before. The air was dry, and the trees were barren. There was no hint of moisture or squish of soft dirt and decaying leaves. Only the occasional snap of a dried-out twig.

The absolute silence that Dominicus had pointed out was beginning to annoy her as they dismounted and began readying the camp. Silence meant broken bodies and deadly secrets. It was where the predators lurked, and where the stifling rules of religious propriety she’d been raised in hid the true evils of the world. Quinn herself had mastered the art of silence. The fact that the wood had as well made her take pause.

It wasn’t natural, much like her. The flapping of wings and howl of the wind and rustling of the leaves—that would have been normal. But this absence … this void … something was off.

Here, the sounds of their feet moving over dried leaves, Lorraine’s quiet actions, Dominicus brushing the horses, and the sing of metal on metal as Draeven sheathed his sword—all seemed obscenely loud, like a beacon to whatever lurked in obscurity.

Those sounds slowly began to descend back into silence as they bedded down for the night, the sun falling away to make room for the rising moon. Unlike the day before, there was no practice, no jovial teasing from Draeven, no talking. They ate a bland vegetable stew and then crawled into their makeshift beds, all without any words between them. As if the sound of nothingness that rang in her ears was so loud it impressed itself upon them.

Quinn fell into a fitful sleep alongside Lorraine. Every breath, every snore, every shift that rubbed the material wrong—half startled her even as she slumbered.

Soft rain splattered across her face, drawing her eyes open. A droplet hit her cheek and slid down into her hairline. Another hit her chin. And another, her chest. It poured down on her like a purification ritual, washing away her thoughts, her sins.

Slowly, Quinn sat up, her mind in a thick fog. Her movements felt stilted—as if her limbs were tied to strings and those strings were being manipulated by someone else. She got to her feet on shaking knees, feeling weak and confused. That confusion, instead of dispersing as she continued to get her bearings, only encroached more.

One look around had Quinn pausing. There were no horses. No people. This was no longer the clearing Quinn had fallen asleep in, though she was still in the same dark woods. She shuddered, reaching out, her fingers brushed against the heavy clouds of fog as she fanned the denseness of it away and stepped deeper into the forest.

There was a tether here, tugging her into the dark. The shadows closed around her—welcoming her into their