Your Dark Gospel

Chapter Nineteen

Elira

The decision to make camp one last time beneath the mountain was unanimous. They were exhausted after battling the wyrm and needed time to heal and rest before they faced what lay on the other side of the doors they had fought so hard to reach.

Elira could rest easy knowing that the danger had been eradicated. Now that the beast was dead, all that was left was a crumbling city in desperate need of repair. The drow certainly had their work cut out for them.

"I wish I could see what they do with the place," Astarion said, hands placed on his hips while he stood beside the campfire and eyed the shadowy, lifeless structures. "It's certainly got potential."

"Perhaps you should ask what their plans are," Shadowheart answered in a voice too sweet to be her own. Elira's head shot in her direction just to be certain the words were truly coming from her. "After all, someone has to let them know that the beast has been dispensed. There may even be a reward."

The group groaned in unison.

"Not it!" Karlarch's voice echoed through the empty street where they'd made camp, bouncing off broken doorframes and shattered windowsills. The others quickly followed her lead as they settled deeper into their makeshift mats around the warm fire. Elira was far too cozy and tired for yet another excursion through the tunnels. Quite frankly, she was tired of dark, oppressive tunnels and ready to be back out in the open air, even if it was colder than a banshee's tit out there.

Astarion's jaw went slack and his gaze slid over his companions one by one. "Excuse me, but I'm not an errand boy to be sent around."

"Not scared, are you, Astarion?" Karlach asked, brow quirked. "It's just a short walk. Nothing is lurking in the dark waiting to get you. We've seen to that."

"That's not the point." Astarion all but stomped his foot and settled for a rather dramatic sigh. "Well, if I'm to spend my evening traipsing back and forth, at least I'll have some company." He held a hand out to Elira and grinned fiendishly at her. There was a heat in his gaze that made something inside her stomach flutter. For one so cold and undead, he sure was good at burning her up.

She didn't take the hand he offered. Instead, she cast her eyes down at the fire. "I think... I think I'll stay. I'm tired." The yawn that followed was fake and obvious, but no one dared to call her out on it.

Astarion stifled his heated gaze, letting his arm drop to his side as his hand slowly opened and closed in uncertainty. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat. "Aren't we all?" He staggered back a few steps, nearly tripping over Karlach's outstretched leg. "I suppose I'll be back soon enough. How fortunate for you all that Wyll is here to stimulate you with tales of his past heroics. Keep out of trouble while I'm away, will you?"

Wyll shot a confused look at Astarion's retreating form, and they watched him saunter out of the firelight and into the shadows without another word.

Elira should have gone with him. Despite her tired bones and her hunger for fresh air, she wanted to go with him, but after all that happened last night—maybe it was best if she kept her distance. They were so close to reaching their goal. Everything that she was feeling for him... it was best kept to herself. She didn't need to create any more complications between them. Things were messy enough as is, and the heat in that look he gave her? She didn't want to know where it would have led.

The fire crackled and made their shadows dance as they huddled around it. Shadowheart focused on healing their wounds while Karlach split up their provisions and passed them around. Wyll seemed unusually comfortable in her presence, eagerly accepting his food and exchanging a few words of thanks. It was quite the improvement from the creepy stalker lurking in the background in the days since they'd made their peace agreement.