Hey, sorry for the break. I decided to write a second draft first and rewrote some chapters. Alyss is no longer injected by something unknown: someone knocked her out with a tincture and robbed her. I also found out I didn't copy and paste the last part of chapter 15. From now on, I'll update frequently and with no more editing. (: 

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Mart hadn’t slept well. Every time he jolted awake from restless dreams, a jolt of fear shot through him—followed by the suffocating weight in his chest that convinced him something was terribly wrong. That Alyss had drawn her last breath while he slept beside her. He’d lie completely still, muscles tense, straining to hear the faint sound of her breathing.
It had always been there. As far as he could tell, he was the only one who’d slept fitfully.

When the Golden Heart cast its glow over this corner of the sky, he quietly got dressed in the clothes Aravin had brought him and slipped out into the lounge. The idea of seeing her wake up felt unbearably awkward. He still didn’t know where they stood—or where he wanted them to stand. He feared that he no longer loved her the way he once had, that something in him had dimmed, cracked, over those long years of loneliness.

Now he sat on the couch, waiting for someone else to wake up, for the day to begin, for their visit to the Soultaker. The thought steadied him a little. Meeting someone like himself sent a pleasant thrill through him. So this is what it feels like to look forward to something.

His gaze flicked to the door when he saw movement.

It was Alyss, and she offered him a hesitant smile. He tried to smile back, though it probably came out more like a grimace. She wore a simple but elegant dress and had put on a touch of makeup—as if it were an ordinary morning and she was simply heading to work.

Work. He didn’t even know what her workdays looked like, except that they involved temperature and ice readings. She’d once wanted something entirely different. A florist—that had been her dream. Her brother’s death had cut that short.

She sat beside him, keeping a polite distance between them.

“How are you feeling? You… you look better. A bit of color in your cheeks.”

She gave a faint smile. “Better, actually. The fog in my head is gone, and the headache’s disappeared. The credit keeper must have informed my family, though—I’ve been getting those little pricks in my neck all morning. They’re trying to contact me.”

“You don’t want to talk to them?”

She sighed. “I left a note saying I had things to take care of outside Tranendal. Giving more details seemed dangerous. I’d rather keep them out of this entirely.”

“You could at least reassure them you’re safe, don’t you think?”

She bit her lip and gave him a thoughtful look. “You’re probably right. I’ll try to keep it short.” Her gaze drifted toward the door. “I’ll also ask Aravin later if he’s got any tinctures left.”

“He will. The man’s practically drowning in them.”

A silence followed. Her eyes flicked back to the door before she leaned slightly toward him. “I was wondering… don’t you think things are going a bit too smoothly? That this Fantoom just happens to know a Soultaker and is taking us there?” She laced her fingers together. “I thought that if he agreed to help, it would be for credit—that he was just another adventurer hoping to make a profit off us. But from what I’ve seen… I doubt that’s what’s driving him. He’s already filthy rich.”

“That doesn’t mean much. The richer people are, the more they tend to want.”

“Yes, but still… He doesn’t seem greedy. He wanted you and Aravin on his ship as payment. I just wonder why.”

“Maybe it’s convenient to have someone who can make tinctures on command,” Mart mused. “Or someone who can rip the soul out of your enemies in a single motion.”

Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth in shock. “You think that’s what he wants from you? To use you as a weapon?”

Mart shrugged. “I’ve got no idea what he’s thinking. He can’t exactly force me. But maybe he’s hoping loyalty will form on its own. His crew seems close.”

Something he couldn’t help but envy. How good it must feel to trust someone completely. Or maybe they were just in a phase he’d already outgrown. Maybe a day would come when they would betray each other too. Perhaps all friendships were doomed in the end—because, ultimately, everyone cared most about themselves.

Yet the idea that he could betray someone left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He pushed away the thought and focused on the problem. Alyss had a point. Saxa had protested, but only mildly. And the news that the world was on the verge of being overtaken by ice hadn’t seemed to shake them much. Maybe they’d stared death in the face too many times to be afraid anymore. Or maybe they just believed they could beat it.

Mart rubbed his temples. The last thing he needed was more doubt in humanity. It was hard enough already to trust anyone—or anything. The idea that Fantoom and his crew were keeping secrets from them made his skin itch and his nerves spark with unease.

Just as he was about to get up and shake off the feeling, Cami and Saxa entered the room.

“Good morning!” Cami chirped. “How are you feeling? Did my bed pass for a Scion bed?”

“I slept like a rock,” Alyss said with a smile. “It was kind of you to give it up for us.”

A blush rose to his cheeks. “Of course.” He made an exaggerated bow and hurried toward the bar, nearly tripping over himself as he began rummaging through the cupboards.

“Don’t make a habit of it,” Saxa muttered, arms crossed as she watched them from a distance. “I like my privacy. Next time you can pitch a tent on deck or something. Be creative.”

“Of course,” Alyss said quietly, watching her as she walked over to her brother. Seeing the two of them together carved a sharp ache into her expression. She would’ve given anything to hold her own brother again, even for one night.

After a quick breakfast, the airship took off. Saxa went below deck to steer, and Lux disappeared as well, muttering something about working on an invention. Mart got the impression they both preferred as few people around as possible. Only Cami stayed, softly playing music.

It wasn’t until the ship leveled out and the sky outside the window turned a steady shade of blue-gray that Fantoom finally returned to the lounge. He stopped at the edge of the table, leaning forward on his hands.

“All right,” he began. “About our visit to your mentor.” His eyes met Mart’s. “His name is Aloïs. Ring any bells?”

Mart shook his head. “No. I… I don’t know anything about my people.” The last two words felt strange on his tongue.

“He’s been hunted for decades and retreated to a place no soul dares to enter. Don’t expect a warm welcome, though he doesn’t have an icy heart. Two years ago, when I crashed one of Lux’s early flying prototypes, he patched me up. I’m certain he’ll be glad to know another Soulbinder survived—and willing to help you master your abilities.”

The thought that Aloïs had lived in isolation for so long made Mart feel strangely connected to him. Yet it also unsettled him. Is that the life waiting for me too? His gaze shifted to Alyss. She thrived around people. He imagined it would be nice to have someone by his side one day—but Alyss would lose too much. Maybe someone like Saxa, who seemed to flee from people anyway.

Fantoom’s voice pulled him back to the moment. “…we can’t just land there. He lives deep within the Whispering Woods, surrounded by the infamous Bonewood. Anyone who enters without paying the toll dies and becomes one with the forest. Even those who do pay face danger—the bone beasts there are drawn to warm flesh.”

Mart let the words sink in. It made sense that someone so hunted would take precautions. “What kind of toll are we talking about?”

“The Bonewood demands a bone. Give it one, and it leaves you be.”

A chill crawled down Mart’s spine. “You mean the Bonewood is literally made of bones?”

Fantoom nodded slowly. He wiggled his fingers—two of which were made of metal. “I don’t know how long we’ll have to stay. It might be that we’ll need to pay twice—for the trip in and the trip out. Lux can craft replacements.”

Mart stared at his hand. Was this visit really worth his fingers? He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at Fantoom. “And you’re coming with us?” It sounded more like a statement than a question; he couldn’t think why Fantoom would.

“I know where he lives. But I suggest we bring as few people as possible. My crew will stay aboard.”

Mart exchanged a look with Alyss. There was no way he’d let her lose any fingers. Still, something about Fantoom’s eagerness didn’t sit right with him. “You sound awfully eager to part with your bones.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Fantoom said, his tone cooling slightly. “I’d rather keep my fingers and toes intact, but go alone and you’ll die. And if what you’re saying is true, the rest of Faux dies with you.”

Mart held back a sigh. Maybe he was just pragmatic, someone who faced facts without flinching. “All right then. We go together.”

“I’m coming too,” said Aravin. “I’m not leaving you behind again.”

Mart almost said he didn’t need his help—but stopped himself. He planned to ask the Soultaker how to sever his bond with Aravin, and maybe that could only be done with both of them present. “Fine. Whatever you want.” He turned back to Fantoom. “Do you have weapons we can use against those bone beasts?”

A smile curved across Fantoom’s lips. “Of course. Once we land, you can pick something from our arsenal.”

Despite the danger ahead, a thrill ran through Mart. He could already picture himself creeping through a forest of bones, armed with a heavy gun—just like the make-believe adventures they used to play.

Of course, this wasn’t a game, and their lives were on the line.

Still… he couldn’t deny it. He missed that feeling—the pounding heart, the sharpened senses. The rush of being alive.