All That Falls

6 A Deceptive Goodbye

It was cold and dark and the three Fae I'd come here with had lost their patience for my fear of shadowstepping. So before I was even finished arguing for the path up the mountain, Lark grabbed my hand and the world squeezed in around me. Reeling and choking, I collapsed into the snow at the top, hands splayed out before me as I fought to catch my breath.

"Bastard," I spat, which only earned me a chuckle from Pollux.

I rose to my feet again, knees wobbling, and brushed the snow from my coat, my legs, grateful for the thick turtleneck that Rook had supplied when some of the powdery substance stuck to my neck where it melted against the warm skin there and dripped down onto my high collar.

"We're alone," Lark said, keen eyes searching the deserted camp.

I looked up from my task and did the same.

"I told you I could do it," I muttered.

I lifted a boot and set it down in the deep snow, then another. It was much harder to walk now with the freshly fallen snow but I was too stubborn to ask for help so I took my time reaching the camp itself instead. Then I moved to the machinery and instruments that Wyn had left on for our use should we need them. I checked the gauges, walking among them in examination.

"Whatever those are," Lark began, "we don't need them."

I opened my mouth to argue, but snapped it shut a moment later as I watched him peel off his coat. Beneath that elegantly embroidered black tunic, he wore a black button-up shirt, the top button undone, the skin of his chiseled chest peeking through. He rolled up the sleeves so that his muscled arms were on display as he gazed up at the rift, face contorted into an expression of purpose.

"It's not polite to stare," a voice muttered beside my right ear.

I jumped and turned to find Pollux standing beside me. Scowling at him, I whirled around to check another instrument only to find Rook standing on my other side. I bumped into him during my attempt to flee and he only nodded my way and stood as still as a statue, still blocking me. I sighed, placing my hands on my hips, and turned back around to Pollux.

"Don't you two have better things to do?" I snapped. "Like maybe help him?"

"He doesn't need our help," Rook muttered, his voice gravelly, deep. I stared at him because it was the first time I'd heard him talk.

"And besides," Pollux added, "he told us to look after you instead."

"Look after me? Why would you need to—"

But a horrible groaning sound interrupted me. At first, it sounded mechanical, like an engine grinding to a screeching halt. But there was something deeper to it, something more sinister, more alive. I felt a chill in my very bones at that sound but watched, frozen in my tracks, as Lark raised both hands, and then pulled them together as though it took everything in him to do so.

The rift above came careening to a halt, crying out its dissent as it did. Then it reversed directions. For a moment, the surrounding air seemed to be sucked in. Then it froze again and there was no movement at all, just a huge blot of inky blackness pigmented against a brilliant night sky. Lark dropped his hands, letting them hang at his sides. He tossed his head back, his eyelids fluttering shut. And that darkness, it leeched from the sky, slithering downward in wispy tendrils of smoke, first toward Lark and then into him.

Gasping, I stepped forward but was stopped from going any further by Pollux's warning hand on my shoulder.

"Don't," he said.

I glanced at him once to find his lips set in a firm, grim line. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a warning and one that he intended to enforce should I decide to disobey him. He took his orders to look after me quite seriously indeed.