until it is time.>
“What happened?” Ambrose asks, stepping back. “Your power is leaking off you in waves. Something big has changed.”
“I have a talking sword tattooed on my arm that only I can see,” I answer. Ambrose grunts, crossing his arms. All my guys look at my arm very uncomfortably, almost as if the sword is a new guy and they want to figure out a way to get rid of him.
“You seriously have a problem with things talking in your head, you know that?” Pitch grumbles. I laugh despite the weirdness of the situation. We have the sword, Zander will get the dragons and we will win this war. Things are finally looking up.
Before dusk settles, we stop by another cave to make camp. This one isn’t nearly as impressive as the last and has been used by animals. To prevent the smell of rotting bones hitting us, we built a fire outside the cave this time. I’m more exhausted anyway than I am eager to explore the area. I guess three days trapped in an alternative reality has started to take its toll on me. Pitch senses my exhaustion and takes my hand.
“You should rest,” he whispers.
I nod at him, unable to stifle a yawn. “There’s just something creepy about this cave. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“It’s probably because we’re near the Deadlands border,” he says. “They won’t come near us. Like the centaurs, Draugars keep to themselves.”
“And thank Selena for that,” Jonah adds, stoking our wire with a long wooden stick. “Those corpses stink.”
“Sshh!” Gage glares at him. “I don’t know about you, mate, but I’d rather not attract their attention.”
Jonah stands and grins at him. “Are you frightened, Professor?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
They both laugh as they walk off in different directions, probably to help Ambrose place more protection spells around us.
“What are Draugars?” I ask Pitch, scooting closer to him on the fallen log. “This sounds like the perfect camping ghost story.”
He chuckles quietly before answering. “There are sea-Draugars and land-Draugars. The ones close to the border are the former and control anyone who drowns in the Enchanted Forest, particularly in the Faery Pools. The land-Draugars protect their marshlands and ancient treasure-filled caves. They were rumoured to once fight alongside the Draconians in battle, but I think it’s only a tale.”
“It’s not a tale,” Gage says, returning with firewood in his arms. He sets them down by the crackling fire Ambrose kindly set up for us. “My father used to collect ancient scrolls. In one of them, there was a legitimate account about the Sea Draugars helping to defend the forest when Eris’ sent her monsters. They helped protect Draconia while a lot of other places were destroyed.”
Pitch lifts his brows. “There you go, then. They once weren’t as recluse as they are now.”
“Are they living or undead?” I ask. “I’ve never heard of the term Draugar before and I don’t remember reading about it in the Book of Zorya.
It’s Gage who answers me. “Undead. Funnily enough, it’s Draugars who created the Shades.”
At the mention of his species, Echo hops off the log and flies over, rolling to a halt at our feet. I chuckle and lift him up, kissing him on his little wet nose.
“How can something that sounds so terrifying create something this cute?” I hold Echo up to them. “I mean, just look at him!”
“They were created this way as a ruse to befall their enemies,” Pitch explains, reaching out to touch Echo. It’s the first he’s ever tried to pet him. I hold my breath as he awkwardly pats Echo on the head. “Echo is the first Shade I have ever seen or I would’ve deciphered his species the first day you got him.”
“I didn’t know either until Stonehart brought Echo to the staff room.” Gage reaches over and rubs Echo’s stomach. “Luckily, he was able to convince Stonehart to let him stay.”
Ambrose returns with Jonah, but they don’t look as relaxed as Gage had.
“What’s wrong?” Pitch stands and clenches his hands. “What did you see?”
Ambrose stops beside us, the shadows from the fire playing over his face. “I only sensed something dark.”
As soon as he says the words, a gust of ice-cold air sighs around us. It freezes the fire into swerving icicles, and our breaths turn into puffs of smoke. My teeth chatter as I hold Echo to my chest, looking around to see where the coldness is coming from. Every breath I drag in is like snow in