Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(45)

He released my hands. What do you mean?

“There’s a man in Harvest Zone Seven,” I related. I wrung my hands, unable to let them remain empty. “His name is Dyter. He has connections to Cal. I never thought to contact him,” I admitted. “I didn’t think the rebellion would care about my capture. I thought Dyter might have, but he isn’t the leader, so . . . anyway, my dungeon buddy, Ty, said they’ll come if they know I’m Phaetyn.”

Tyr nodded slowly, but the rest of him was oddly still, and he kept his hands by his sides.

I took a deep breath and pressed on. “Would you be able to get word to Dyter, the owner of The Crane’s Nest, if he’s still there? If not Dyter, there is a boy my age named Arnik who might be able to help.”

Tyr rested his long fingers on the back of my clenched hands. They’ll be able to contact Cal?

“I don’t know, but it’s all I’ve got.”

He grimaced, the corners of his mouth turning down. Which is more than I have at the moment. Surely, this rebel leader has ample resources at his disposal and will be able to help you.

I frowned. But the warmth and excitement I’d felt moments ago, churned with confusion. “Help us, you mean.”

Tyr withdrew his hand, but nodded.

“Tyr?” His very name was weighted with my question. Was he saying he wasn’t going to come with me?

He sighed but did not move as I stepped closer. I reached for him again, this time filled with prophetic dread at what I would hear.

There are things which tie me to this place, and . . . I cannot be sure I’ll be able to get away.

I opened my mouth to protest but then closed it. I barely knew Tyr, yet, I did. He’d cared for me, brought me food and water and clean clothes, but none of these things accounted for the twinge inside at the thought of leaving him behind. Twinge didn’t even describe the feeling. No, the idea of leaving him behind gnawed at me, leaving a hollow ached in my chest. Escaping without Tyr would be a mistake and something I’d regret. If not immediately, certainly later. “Please?”

I want to leave, his voice spoke in my mind, and I both felt and heard his earnestness. But I cannot be sure, and I will not give you false hope.

“Please, promise me you’ll try. I don’t . . . I don’t wish to leave you here.” No one deserved to live in this way, let alone someone as gentle as Tyr.

He brought his hand up to my face, his movement slow, as if giving me time to pull away if I wanted. But I didn’t. I stared into the darkness beneath the hood, the air around us charged with emotion.

He brushed his fingertips over my cheek, and I heard him promise.

I give you my word.



“Lovely day for it,” I remarked, tipping my face to the sky.

My new clothes made me brave. That was the only reason for saying such a thing to the Drae in front of me. My new clothes: breeches, a tunic cinched at the waist, and shoes.

In addition, the glorious, joyous rays of the sun touched my face for the first time in five weeks. If I wasn’t sarcastic about it, I might burst into tears.

“It is a lovely day, considering it’s not night,” the Drae agreed, in a voice like the embers of a fire.

My insides chilled. I hadn’t expected him to reply, let alone agree. Did it mean something?

We trudged down through the dry castle ground. Well, I trudged. He was so graceful it looked like he floated. My insides twisted with anticipation as the call to raise the gate was shouted. The gate rose. Just like that, I was out. I couldn’t believe it.

“It’s not real, you know,” Irrik said. He raised his eyebrows as if questioning my sanity.

“The sunshine is real. The fresh air is real.” I gave him a derisive look up and down. “I’m here. Seems pretty real to me.”

He rolled his eyes and continued his predatory glide on the path. “You know what I mean.”

I did. He meant it wouldn’t last, and I was painfully aware of that fact. Yet, with only one person guarding me out here, and the castle gates growing farther away with each step, pretending was easy. Overall, this was a step up in my eyes. If I had to be a prisoner, at least I’d be one who had clean clothes and got to go outside.

The thought pulled me up short. There was something utterly wrong with that. To accept the scraps Irdelron sprinkled out while I did his bidding was sick and pathetic. I might be setting out to heal the land, but while I wanted to do this for the people of Verald, Irdelron wanted to do it for himself; For the same reason he did everything—power. More food meant happier people which meant less rebels. The king’s goal and mine might be temporarily aligned, but I shouldn’t, couldn’t, lose sight of what Irdelron truly was.

With a heavy sigh, I glanced at Irrik and said, “You’re right.” To enjoy this day was to be victim to the sickness of what the king was doing to me and to Verald’s people. “None of this is real.”

Something flashed in the Drae’s eyes, and he looked around at the wilted gardens in disgust. “I hate sunlight.”

It hates you right back, nightmare man.

“Where are we going?” I asked, taking a huge lungful of beautiful air as we moved down the mountainside towards the flat Quota Fields below.

He tensed as I let out a grateful and long-winded exhale.

“You’re much less like a cowering rat in clean clothes,” he said.