The Storm Tower | Vol.4, The Eldenarian Artifacts ✓

26.

Hodvekt was just an hour away.

Sebastian and the Arkangel caravan had been on the road for about two days straight—only stopping to switch drivers or to clear the road of fallen trees and snow blocks. The Ordinaires of Western Canada needed to do a better job of keeping their streets clean. Then again, they were far removed from any civilization. Their journey to House Brynjir's headquarters kept them out of sight and mind. Now and then a truck or car would pass them by, but no one paid them any mind.

Apparently, large convoys of armored vehicles were normal in this part of the world.

He peered out the window next to him. There was nothing but snow, trees, and mountains in the distance. That's all it had been the entire duration of the trip. Grumbling under his breath, he decided to look at something far more pleasing.

Imogen sat across from him with her cheek pressed against the glass. Her hazel eyes followed the road they left in their wake; her face was more downcast than the grey sky outside. She hadn't spoken much since her conversation with Jocasta two days prior. Sebastian didn't attempt to get her to talk.

He grew up as the antisocial, quiet kid who hated when people spoke to him unnecessarily. Whatever Jocasta told her clearly screwed with Imogen's head. There likely was a lot on her mind. The least he could do was give her some space to process it all.

She caught him staring out the corner of her eye, and he immediately paled. Averting his attention, she got up from his seat and decided to aimlessly roam the limited space there was inside their transport. Dorian was laid out in the back, curled up like a dog as he snored loudly. Sebastian rolled his eyes at the werewolf.

The only one left in the cabin was none other than the queen of the Arkangels—Jocasta. She sat behind a tiny table with a cup of steaming coffee and a digital tablet displaying a map of the area they were driving through. Sebastian wrinkled his nose at the device. The ordinaires loved their technology. They relied on it even.

But he knew magic was far more powerful than anything their fragile little minds could invent.

"Is there a problem, Sebastian?" the woman asked without lifting her eyes from the screen.

"Er, no?"

"Then why are you pacing?"

He glanced at his shoes. He hadn't even realized.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he reluctantly took a seat across from her. Exhaling silently, he slouched into his chair. He took another glance at Imogen before narrowing his eyes at her.

"What'd you say to her?"

Jocasta set her tablet down.

"That's none of your concern."

"Well, it kinda is. Imogen's...she's my—"

He stopped himself. What was he about to say? That she was his girlfriend? He couldn't say that. Or could he? The specifics of their relationship were hazy—even more so now after what happened after he woke up from his manticore poison-induced nap. Jocasta smiled coyly at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he said.

She chuckled. "Relax." She tilted her head at him. "You seem more wound up than usual."

How observant of her.

"I guess I am."

"You're nervous."

"No kidding. I'm about to walk a hundred Arkangels into a village full of people who hate their guts. We all might end up dead."

Jocasta nodded slowly. She didn't seem afraid in the slightest. In fact, she seemed to be amused at his anxiety. That only made him scowl at her. He would've thought she'd be showing some more concern.