The rest of the evening wasn't nearly as climatic as the previous hours. The Kryjia didn't speak as we stumbled—I stumbled—down the narrow caverns. When my legs started to feel like jelly, he finally sighed and turned off a narrow corridor into a small circular chamber.
He set the lantern down towards the back and then sat down at the entrance, his legs blocking the corridor. "I'll keep watch," he said.
"Watch for what? Are you going to tell me anything?"
"Not now."
"Seriously?" I groaned. I settled next to the lantern, my skin prickling with cold. I stared towards the entrance at the two glittering eyes in the dark.
"I'm not the one to tell you."
"Then who is?"
"Rest," he sighed. "You move too slowly as it is."
I grumbled a bit to myself, aiming a few choice words at him before I snuck my fingers into my pocket to slide my fingers over the Kriyfem.
"You'll attract attention if you keep playing with that." I jolted, wrenching my hand from my pocket.
"How did—?"
"The stones speak to us."
"What do they say?"
Silence.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing easy. If he had wanted to kill me he could have done it a hundred times over by now. I might as well get some sleep, at least it would take my mind off my growling stomach.
My eyelids felt heavy, but before sleep could snatch me away, I had one more pressing question. My fingers gently brushed the Kriyfem one last time.
"What do I call you?"
There was silence for a long time, and as I teetered on the edge of sleep, just about to step into the bliss of sleepy darkness I heard his liquid caramel voice cascade over me.
"Kiliyan."
YOU ARE READING
Flock
FantasyThe Kryjia have taken up residence amongst the human population, using them as laborers. They are mining a special, ever-cold metal for reasons beyond human understanding-a metal that humans can not physically touch without intense injury-until one...
