I barreled into the large hall and wove my way through the small groups of sparring Sk?íteks, each group covered by the shimmering orb of a shield. I worked my way through them, looking like a fool when I jumped at an explosion that rocked against a barrier near my head.
I smiled at the two Sk?íteks enclosed in the fighting space and made my way toward Talon.
“Hi, baby,” Talon said softly when I ran up beside him. His face dropped at the look in my eyes and the transmission of my panic that I am sure he felt through our bond.
“I heard her again. I think she is in the old dungeons.”
Talon said nothing more before dragging me behind him out of the training hall and toward the underground spring.
His feet moved quickly, his gait and cumbersome shape unable to be quiet as we bounded through one dark tunnel and another before arriving in the same large cavern I had just left, the dark entryway to the dungeons staring at us hauntingly.
“Are you sure you heard the voice from down there?” Talon asked, his voice shaking, as he looked wide-eyed into the abyss in front of us.
I could only nod. Talon was scared, that alone was enough to freak me out. I had never been down there, but Talon had, hundreds of times I was sure. The place was probably full of more haunted memories than crazy, flesh stripped skeletons. Although, I was sure there was a few of those too, there always were in dungeons.
“You’re sure?” Talon asked again, and I felt my confidence waiver.
“Of course I am not sure, Talon. Her voice echoes around like an Olympic game of Ping-Pong. She could have been a mermaid in the water for all I know.”
“Don’t be silly,” Talon said, his voice still shaking, although less than before. “Mermaids don’t exist.”
Talon took a step away from me, toward the cavern, and I could feel his magic surge as he put on a small shield. Dude, he wasn’t thinking about going in there, was he?
“Talon?” I asked from behind him, my voice catching at the petrified anger on his face. “Baby, let’s go. We can’t hear her anymore; she’s gone.”
I pulled on him, but he didn’t move. I waited, but he didn’t respond. His eyes stayed glued to the dark opening as if they had been sewn there. It was creepy watching him stare at something so intently. My heart rate began to accelerate to match Talon’s, the quick pick up triggering a warning inside of me. I didn’t know how much I could take, my heart was beating too fast, and even I was starting to feel some creepy vibe from whatever was down there.
“Talon?” My voice was weak with the heavy vibe of fear that Talon’s stare had given me.
I couldn’t do it. Like a wet dog, I shook off the anxiety that was trying to take hold of me and grabbed the sopping tablecloth from where it still lay on the stone floor by our feet. In one smooth movement, I threw it over Talon’s head, the wet fabric covering him with a loud smack.
It did the trick. He howled and pulled the cold thing off him.
“Let’s go, Talon,” I said, before he could get angry with me.
His jaw hung heavily for a moment before his brain clicked back into place, reminding him of what had happened before I hit him with a wet tablecloth. That was the problem with being married to such a big guy; sometimes their brains moved a bit too slowly.
Talon nodded and put the tablecloth in the basket, only to freeze at the sight of something over my shoulder.
“What are you two doing here?” Ovailia spat with as much icy venom as she possibly could. I whipped around to see her standing before us, her feet moving back and forth as if she was walking in place, her long arms folded over her slender torso. I instantly moved back into Talon, content to let him take the lead and thankful when he squared his shoulders defiantly against her.
I guess that was the one good thing about growing up with Ovailia; he was used to her. When you can think of someone as a tantrum-throwing toddler with a stinky diaper, their fits as an adult don’t truly bother you.
“That is no longer your concern, Ovailia,” Talon said simply, his voice making it clear he didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
“What?” Ovailia said, her voice airy with surprise. Why she was surprised, I had no idea. I had always assumed it would take pigs standing and walking on their hind legs to surprise her.
“I do not need to remind you of Ilyan’s proclamation regarding who is acting in his stead, do I?” Talon wrapped his arm around me, pressing my shoulder into him.
“No, I remember quite well,” she said snottily, the airy confusion in her voice gone now.
I stared at Ovailia intently, the nerves in my spine jumping sporadically. Something about the way Ovailia shifted her feet was freaking me out. Her whole body was screaming, liar! Run! I couldn’t tear my eyes from the icy blue of hers and the way her lips curled in warning.
“Speaking of Ilyan,” Ovailia asked, her voice hesitant, “how is my dear brother?”
“Wonderful,” Talon said, his voice pinched.
Ovailia smiled but said nothing. Talon began to lead me out of the large room, the basket perched on his hip.