A Savior's Worth (Book #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Henry watched shades of pink, gold, and purple darken into a single layer of blackness. He'd always preferred sunsets over sunrises. Nothing replaced the beauty of seeing the stars come to life.

He heard complaints from the others who wanted to continue through the night. Cora convinced them to stop, pointing out Iris' heavy eyelids and Kinsey's bobbing head. So, they set up camp, and Henry got himself comfortable by the fire. He tried to warm his hands by rubbing them together and holding them up to the flames, feeling his numb skin tingle as if his fingers were defrosting.

He then stared ahead, spotting Kinsey lying across a log, her head resting on Iris' lap. Iris studied the maps, her lips pursed pensively. Earlier, she'd suggested they head straight to Beatrice's spot, because Elouise could likely be there or on her way. Henry argued that Elouise wouldn't know which way to go.

"Contrary to popular belief, many others live on these mountains," Iris had said. "She could have found people to ask."

Eldon didn't appear convinced by that. Neither he nor Henry further argued with Iris, though. What other option did they have? They'd checked most of Inferum cantivat's locations at this point, and nothing gave them any indication that Elouise had been there. Their only piece of evidence that Elouise had at least been in some contact with them was the butterfly brooch.

Henry glanced over at Eldon who sat to his far right. Eldon held up the brooch in question, turning it over and over like doing so would somehow bring her back or give him answers.

Cora suddenly plopped herself down next to Henry, startling him. She picked up a stick and poked at the fire. "It's getting weaker," she grumbled. "Needs more wood."

Henry nodded and rose from his seat. "That shouldn't be a problem. I can fetch some more."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," Eldon spoke up, leaping from his spot on the ground and stuffing the brooch into his pocket. "I'll go."

Cora gave Henry a look as if to ask him if he was sure about this. Henry didn't respond and simply headed off with Eldon in tow.

The walk was a dreadfully quiet one. Henry didn't know what they could even discuss. He feared any little topic would lead to them discussing what'd happened. He shuddered at the mere memory of that man's dismantled appearance.

"Thought you woulda asked me somethin' by now," Eldon murmured from ahead.

Henry blinked hard and looked up. He hadn't realized he'd been trailing behind. "What would I ask you?"

"You... it's just"—Eldon sighed. "Never mind."

Henry frowned. He preferred to never speak about it. They could leave it in the past, couldn't they?

But then Eldon halted and turned toward him. Henry slowed down until he was also not walking anymore. The pensive expression Eldon bore had his pulse quickening.

"We're fine... right?" Eldon asked, his tone oddly docile. And because of it, Henry's first instinct was to laugh—uneasily and timid.

This was not something they could merely laugh about and forget, though.

Therefore, his sobriety quickly returned, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. Softly, he replied, "Yes. Yes, we're fine."

"Yer lyin'," Eldon said without missing a beat.

Henry rubbed his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble that refused to grow any longer. He couldn't bear looking Eldon in the eyes knowing he was indeed lying to him. He dropped his hands and kept staring down at his snow-covered boots instead. There were tears along the midsole, and he was tempted to bend down and pick out the bits of leather falling off.