Wraithblade by S. M. Boyce

Author:S. M. Boyce [Boyce, S. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2020-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Connor

Throwing Quinn off his trail had cost Connor precious time, and that meant he and his new team would have to spend a night in the trees. A night in the canopy and away from the blightwolves didn’t faze him, of course, but he had yet to discover how Sophia or Murdoc would react.

Time would tell.

With a grunt of effort, he adjusted the deer around his shoulders as he trudged through the wood. Its tongue lolled out of its open mouth, and its horns jostled with each of his steps. Light as a fistful of cloud, it barely weighed on his shoulders at all. Before the wraith, he never would’ve dreamed of lifting a buck this big, much less draping its bulk across his shoulders.

Times had certainly changed.

At the first signs of sunset, he’d ordered the team to camp and build a fire out of sight of the main road. They wouldn’t reach Murkwell until tomorrow afternoon, and since the Lightseers knew about him, walking into yet another town came with risk. It seemed best to bypass the town entirely.

Sophia had repaired their battle-torn clothing with one of her potions, much to Connor’s amazement. Having a necromancer on hand had proven even more useful than he’d thought.

Provided, of course, she didn’t get him killed—or try to kill him herself.

He marched through the forest alone as the sun cast a red and orange glow through the trees. They had spent the day away from the main road, and he’d paraded his newfound team through creek after creek to dampen their scent while the two of them bickered.

After years alone in the silent wood, Sophia and Murdoc had tested his patience today. Hunting alone had been a momentary peace in the storm of their incessant banter.

The southern wind had died down, though it would likely pick up again tonight. Above him, oaks and pines carved into the sky, and sunlight danced along the ground through gaps in the canopy. The lingering char of smoke wafted through the air, along with the distant crackle of a fire.

Any second now, he would hear their voices as they finished setting up camp. Provided, of course, nothing had eaten them in his absence.

Through a gap between two trees to his left, the wraith appeared in a rush of black fog. The dead man’s cloak billowed into existence with a midnight flourish that, weeks ago, had sent a jolt of surprise clear to his toes.

Now, the ghost’s tendency to appear from thin air just annoyed him. Nothing but a parlor trick meant to intimidate mortals.

It was foolish to leave the Starling woman. The wraith floated in front of him and poked a skeletal finger into his chest. The sensation of the dead man’s bone against his shirt sent a ripple of frost across his skin, but he ignored it.

Without so much as a glance toward the ghoul, he adjusted the deer’s weight on his shoulders and stepped around the floating specter. His hands tightened around the beast’s legs to keep it rooted in place.

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