Heat of the Everflame (The Kindred’s Curse Saga #3)

Chapter 39

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

I t all made sense.

Awful, horrible, dreadful sense.

Why he had been so fixated on getting back to Lumnos. Why he wouldn’t let me touch him or see him unclothed. Why he got so furious every time I risked my life for him or anyone else.

It should have been me, he’d yelled.

Will you ever forgive me? he’d asked.

We don’t have enough time, he’d pleaded.

Everything slotted into its proper place, a cruel puzzle whose image was forming before my eyes.

There were so many signs. So many . His moodiness, his fatigue. His pale, hot skin. His inability to sleep. I was supposed to be a healer—how could I miss what was right under my nose?

“ How? ” I choked, the only word I could get out.

“In Arboros, when Vance found us. After you and—” He stopped. “Just after Taran was hurt.”

After I fled.

Alixe and I had left them behind to run to safety. If I had stayed, if I had fought with them...

“Stop,” he snapped. “You’re blaming yourself. I can see it on your face.”

“But... in Ignios, I asked if you were hurt, and you said—”

Is it right to lie to someone you love when you know death is coming? To let them believe the future might stretch on forever, when you know your time left together is far shorter? Or is that adding cruelty to tragedy?

A visceral sorrow tore through my soul. It wasn’t Taran’s heart he had been trying to protect—it was mine .

I gingerly pulled away his bandages and let out a broken cry at what I saw. The wound was rank and festering, the flesh grey at its center, and it reeked with a putrid smell. A slurry of crimson blood and dark poison oozed down his side.

I forced off the rest of his jacket and yanked his gloves away, and another sob slipped out. The black tangle of veins had spread down his arms and wrapped around his fingers. The only skin untouched by the poison’s reach was the spot above his heart—the same patch his scar had mysteriously missed.

I placed my palm over it as my tears turned the world watery and bleak. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laid his hand over mine and closed his eyes. Calm settled over him for the first time in days, and I realized how much keeping this secret had taken out of him.

“I almost did, so many times. But then you would smile at me or laugh at Taran, and I knew once I told you, I would never see you happy again.” His voice turned rough. “That was more than I could take.”

I crumpled over him beneath the crushing weight of my anguish. He was right—smiling, laughing, it all now felt foreign. Something I’d done once upon a time, but not now. Not ever again.

No , I yelled at myself. You can’t let this happen. You’re a healer—so heal him .

I sat up and angrily swiped my tears away. “We’ll figure this out. I fixed Taran. I’ll fix you, too.”

“My wounds were deeper than his,” he said gently. “Before we made it to Mortal City in Ignios, the toxin already covered my chest.”

“My poultice can still draw out the poison. It might take longer, but—”

“I’ve been using your poultice. I took what was leftover each time you made it for Taran.”

“Maybe it wasn’t enough—I can make more.”

“I did make more. I watched you to learn how, then I stole your ingredients and made a larger batch. It didn’t work.”

“ Then you did it wrong! ” I shouted.

He didn’t flinch or react. He watched me, ever patient, ever calm.

I shook my head, desperate to deny the truth written in his grief-dulled eyes. “I’ll go down to the market. Maybe they’ll have something stronger. Or... or I’ll get a healer. There must be—”

“I’ve already seen one.” He let out a long sigh. “I collapsed at the bathhouse. The Centenaries you saw earlier brought me back, then the Umbros Queen sent for a healer. They brought two, a mortal and a Fortos Descended. Both agreed nothing could be done. Once the poison reaches the heart, godstone is always leth—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I hissed. “You and I—we don’t give up. Whatever happens, we keep fighting. Until the absolute last breath, do you hear me? We fight , Luther. To the very end.”

Defeat hung over him like a storm cloud. For him, this was the end. He had been fighting this war all alone for days in every way he knew how, and now he was kneeling on the battlefield, the enemy’s sword at his neck, ready to face the inevitable with honor.

Whether for my benefit or for his own last tiny scrap of hope, he bit back his protests and nodded.

“Promise me,” I pushed. It was a ruthless card to play, and a cruelly selfish one. But for him, for this , I’d sink to any low. “If you truly love me, you’ll give me your word that you’ll keep fighting.”

His hand rose to my cheek. “Then I have no choice. You have my word.”

My heart shattered, then healed, then shattered anew.

I nodded. “We have to get you home. Maura will know what to do.” I took a deep breath and let the reality settle over me of what I had to do—and what it might cost me.

I closed my eyes, spearing my mind and heart out into the ether.

“ Come ,” I whispered. “ Hurry .”

Across the sea, a pulse of acceptance thrummed in response.

Luther’s eyes narrowed. “Diem, what did you just do?”

I pressed lightly on his heart, then pulled my hand away and stood. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”

“Diem, this is too big a risk, the Queen won’t—”

His protests faded behind me as I fled from the room and ran down the corridor. I stopped in front of Taran’s door and pounded my fist against it.

“Taran,” I shouted. Waited. Pounded again. “Taran, open up!”

Silence.

He was gone—off in the palace, gods knew where with gods knew who, unaware that his best friend, his dearest confidant, lay dying a few hallways away.

I sank to my knees and wept, reality smothering the breath from my lungs. My shoulders shuddered with uncontrollable sobs as I thought of the agonizing pain Luther must have been hiding, the grief, the fear, the devastating knowledge that he might never see Lily again...

And he’d borne it all alone, suffering in silence.

All for me.

He’d done everything for me .

A light appeared beneath the door. The latch clicked open and Taran’s bleary-eyed face peered through the crack. “Queenie?”

“Taran,” I said weakly.

He took in my tear-stained face and pulled the door all the way open. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Luther... he’s...” My voice broke on the words, my heart refusing to speak them aloud. “We’re returning to Lumnos. Tonight . Sorae is on her way. The Queen’s not going to let me leave willingly, so we’re going to have to run.”

The bloodshot fog of his drunkenness instantly cleared. He grabbed my arms and helped me to my feet. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get your things, then come to Luther’s room. Do you know where Alixe is?”

He frowned. “I don’t.”

“I do.”

I looked over to see Zalaric sit up on Taran’s bed, his chest bare and his legs tangled in the sheets. Only then did I realize Taran was fully naked, save for a pillow he was clutching to his groin.

“When I left, she was with a group of Centenaries,” Zalaric said. “Things were getting very... well, let’s just say she wasn’t leaving any time soon. I’ll go get her.”

I hesitated. “Perhaps it’s best if you stay here.”

“I’m not going to betray you,” he swore. “Not again.” He looked at Taran, then back at me. “Let me make up for what I’ve done. I can be subtle—they won’t know anything’s amiss.”

I didn’t have much choice. If I went out there, they would see the despair on my face and know—

Gods , they already knew, didn’t they? They had seen it all in Luther’s mind. Symond’s taunting, his cruelty—he’d been toying with a dying man.

And the Queen... she knew he needed help, yet she’d forced me to stay here, forced him to play the part of pampered guest. She told Luther her concerns were ‘ more important .’

The fury that swelled inside me was volcanic.

No, I couldn’t fetch Alixe myself. I’d end up leaving a bloodbath in my wake.

“Go,” I ordered. “Be careful, but hurry.”

He nodded, and I turned for the hall.

“Diem, what’s going on?” Taran called out. “Is Luther alright?”

My lips trembled. I shook my head as fresh tears welled, and Taran’s face went ashen. His jaw set in silent acknowledgement.

I ran back to Luther’s room. He had slumped all the way to the stone floor, his head turned at an awkward angle.

Eyes closed. Chest still.

I staggered toward him, hands clamped over my mouth.

No. Please, no, anything but this.

I buckled beside him, teardrops splashing over his chest. Losing my mother had set me adrift. Losing my father had drowned me alive. Losing Luther... that would drag me so deep, I might never find the surface again.

He stirred, one hand reaching to stroke my arm. A half-destroyed, half-relieved sob cracked out of me. “I thought... I thought you’d...”

“Not yet,” he murmured.

Not yet .

I eased him back up to sitting and fussed over him, propping up his back with cushions and covering him with a quilt I snatched from his bed.

“You’re going to be fine,” I repeated over and over, a mantra to ward off the hovering fate. “Wounds can look worse than they are. Maura will know what to do. And if she doesn’t, my mother will. I’ll go get her from Fortos.”

“I know you won’t listen, but you should stay,” he gritted out.

“You’re right—I’m not listening to that.”

“Get the answers you need from Yrselle, Diem. If you anger her, you may not get a second chance.”

“ Fuck her answers.” I cupped my hands around his jaw. “You’re my answer. The only one I need.”

The bittersweet flicker of happiness in his eyes broke me in an unfixable way. I kissed him, slow and deep, tasting the warm salt of my sorrow on his lips. On my end, it was a plea—a desperate, frantic prayer for him to stay. On his, it was all sweetness, all affection—one last chance to bask in the glow of the woman he adored.

It felt too much like a goodbye.

I badly wanted to break it off, but his hand grazed so tenderly around my neck, his touch featherlight and loving. I couldn’t bear to do it, knowing I might never feel that again.

“There’s so much I need to tell you,” he whispered against my lips. “I thought we’d have more time.”

“We will have more time. You remember that vision of us on the battlefield? That’s our destiny.” I forced a smile. “Fate cannot be changed. That’s why it’s called fate.”

His thumb swept along my cheekbones to brush away my tears. “That doesn’t sound like my Diem. She doesn’t believe in fate.”

“I will. For you, I will.”

He returned my grim smile. “Then I’m afraid we’ve each convinced the other. I see now that even the most certain of fates can be changed. The Kindred’s promises are too easily broken.”

I might have laughed, had any spark of light been left inside me. “That’s blasphemy. My Luther would never say such a thing.”

“‘ Your Luther ’ is exactly what I am. Now and always.”

My heart collapsed, my voice disappearing beneath an aria of hopeless cries. I curled into his side with my head on his shoulder and wept, each of us holding the other, no more words left to say.

After a few minutes, footsteps came down the hall, and the door swung open.

Taran’s bag slid off his shoulder and crashed to the ground. His face went slack, his wide blue eyes filling with shadows. “Cousin,” he whispered. “No.”

He looked at me, his heartbroken gaze pleading for some happier explanation, but I had none to give. It was as bad as it looked. Worse.

He took a stiff, lumbering step toward Luther, then another, then skidded to his knees at his side. “ Cousin .”

Luther said nothing, though I could tell he was fighting his own emotion by the feathering of the muscles along his jaw. He gripped Taran by the arm, his knuckles blanching as he squeezed him tight.

“It was Arboros, wasn’t it? You just had to rescue me.” Taran swung his fist into a nearby chair, sending it shattering into splinters against the wall. “You asshole. You should have left me behind. I told you to leave me behind.”

“I would never,” Luther gritted out. “And neither would you. That’s what we do for each other. And now it’s what you have to do for her.”

I shook my head, but Taran and Luther were lost in the ferocity of their shared glare.

“Swear it, cousin,” Luther demanded. “You’ll take care of her for me. Keep her safe. Whatever it takes.”

“Stop,” I begged.

“I will,” Taran vowed. “Always.”

“ Stop it .” I shoved Taran’s shoulder, his watery eyes snapping to mine. “Take it back. If he wants me protected so badly, he can live and do it himself.”

Taran glanced between us, looking torn.

“He’s not going to die,” I hissed.

“You’re going to heal him?” Taran asked slowly. “Like you healed me?”

I nodded feverishly.

“Taran,” Luther warned. “I’ve already tried the poultice. It didn’t work.”

Emotions cycled across Taran’s face—grief, fear, uncertainty, hope—before landing solidly on rage. He turned his glare on Luther. “I do take it back. Fuck my oath. My loyalty to her dies with you. You want her safe? Then live. ”

I nodded once in firm approval.

Luther’s eyes narrowed at him. “Liar.”

“You know I’ve always hated Lumnos. I only stayed for you. If you die, why shouldn’t I leave? There’s no one left for me there. There or anywhere.”

I didn’t think my heart could shatter any further, but the raw bitterness in Taran’s voice cut deep. This was no longer about goading Luther into living. There was a festering pain hidden in those words, and it devastated me to know that some part of Taran believed them to be true.

More footsteps came pounding toward us. I braced for Centenaries, but to my short-lived relief, two familiar faces appeared.

Alixe turned sheet-white as she sucked in a breath. Zalaric’s shoulders sank.

Alixe came and kneeled beside me. Her eyes darted over Luther’s chest—analyzing, assessing, putting the clues together and searching for a solution in her clever, strategic brain. We watched in silence, perhaps sharing some collective hope that she, of us all, could find a way out.

But when she turned to me, her expression despondent, it became real in a way it hadn’t been before. Real in a way that clung to my bones and soaked into my marrow, infected my blood and wormed into my brain.

“I called Sorae,” I told her. “How fast can she get here?”

“Three hours, maybe four. It will take at least twice that to get home.” She eyed Luther. “And the journey won’t be easy.”

“Can she carry all of us?”

“I think so. She’s carried four before.”

My focus darted to Zalaric, then back to Alixe. “What about five? Can she handle that?”

Zalaric visibly reacted, taking a step back.

Alixe frowned. “It’ll be tight. And it will slow her down.”

I drew in a shaky breath. Could I abandon Zalaric to Yrselle’s wrath in the hopes that an extra hour might make a difference to Luther’s fate? Would I ever forgive myself, if I did?

I looked at Zalaric. “Yrselle has not forgiven you for helping us. I had hoped to barter with her for your protection, but now... Zalaric, you should come with us to Lumnos.”

His expression hardened. “This is my home. There are people here who rely on me.”

“They can come, too—I’ll charter a boat to bring them all. Or I’ll send money, if they decide to stay. Whatever you need.”

“I’m sorry,” Luther said quietly. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

Zalaric shook his head. “I could have turned you away. I knew the risks, and I made my choice. I live and die by my own terms, no one else’s.”

“Come with us,” Taran begged. “I don’t want to wonder if you’re going to die, too.”

Zalaric’s expression softened, but still he hesitated. “Let me think it over. In the meantime, I’ll help you prepare.”

While Alixe left to gather her things, Taran and Zalaric helped Luther dress then moved him to the bed. Over his protests, I made a new batch of poultice to dress his wound.

It was an excruciating process for us both. Even the lightest touch sent him writhing, and the closer I got to his injury, the harder it became for me to deny his grim prognosis. If I was just a healer, and he was just my patient, our conversation would look very different.

When I finished, I stroked his hair until he drifted into a restless sleep, then I grudgingly forced myself to return to my quarters and grab my bag.

Every second away was torture. Was I missing his final moments? His last words, his last breath? Would I return to find him gone forever?

Would I burn the world to the ground if I did?

I rushed back to his room and stared at his chest, holding my breath, until I saw its shallow rise.

Taran and Zalaric waved off my attempts to help them gather Luther’s things, insisting I stay at his side. I obeyed, quietly grateful for that small kindness, and folded myself against him, one hand at his heart, its slow rhythm like a flickering match held just beside a fuse.

Near Luther’s desk, Taran’s expression darkened as he gazed at a pile of papers. “He wrote each of us goodbye letters,” he said quietly. “Lily and Eleanor, too.”

“Burn mine, I don’t want to see it. This isn’t goodbye.” My stomach twisted so hard I flinched. “But... save the others.”

He ignored the first part of my order and threw the entire stack into his bag. He started to toss the compass in as well, then paused. He flipped it open, and I heard the soft whirr of the spinning arrow as it sought out the object of his heart’s desire.

The compass clicked to a stop.

Taran frowned. Deeply.

I studied his face for some sign of what he saw, but he gave none. His throat bobbed, and he slammed it closed in his fist, then tossed it to me. “Put that in his hand. It calms him to know he can always find you.”

I pressed the golden disc into Luther’s palm. Sure enough, as if on reflex, the tension eased from his muscles. Even now, even in sleep, he kept his vigil.

Alixe burst through the door, panting for breath. Like me, her focus cut straight to his chest.

“He’s fine,” I assured her. “Just sleeping.”

She looked at me, and I caught the hint of pink in her eyes, the skin around them swollen. She locked his door, then perched on the side of his bed. Taran sat near his feet, Zalaric standing behind him, one hand on Taran’s shoulder.

“How close is Sorae?” Alixe asked.

I closed my eyes and reached across our bond. Sorae sent me a glimpse of the sea through the clouds, Coeur?le to her left, followed by a tremble of concern. I looked down on Luther and let Sorae see his condition through my eyes. I could almost hear her roar of sorrow ripple across the water’s surface. Like a second heartbeat, I felt the thump of her wings quicken as she strained to get to us faster.

“She’s almost halfway,” I answered.

“Good. It will still be dark. If we’re clever and a little lucky, we might be able to slip away unseen.”

I stared at the snarling knot of veins on Luther’s chest, feeling far from clever and the opposite of lucky. “Even if the Centenaries don’t see us, Yrselle’s gryvern will.”

“Then we’ll be prepared to fight,” Alixe said. “We have our magic. We’re not as vulnerable as we were when they captured us.”

Taran cringed. “About that... the flameroot I drank at dinner is still wearing off.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Yrselle could take all your magic back at any time. Or worse. You heard what she said at dinner—what she’s capable of.”

A silence fell in the room. I could lose more than Luther tonight. One stray thought from Yrselle, and all of them would be as good as dead.

What good was being immune to her magic if I couldn’t protect the people I loved?

“Maybe...” My voice quivered at the words rattling in my thoughts. “Maybe I should stay.”

“You think we should leave tomorrow?” Alixe asked.

“No. I mean... maybe I should stay. Just me.”

“Diem,” Taran warned.

“Their magic can’t hurt me. I can fight them off while you all get away.”

Alixe frowned. “Your Majesty...”

“I’m the one Yrselle wants. If I stay—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Luther grumbled.

His eyes slowly cracked open. Despite myself, I smiled at his menacing glare.

“You told me once there was nothing you would not do to save me, Luther. You think I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I’m going to die, Diem. Having you at my side until it happens is my only mercy.” His voice fell quiet. “Don’t take that away from me, too.”

My throat tightened to a close.

I could have argued with any other plea.

Anything.

But not that.

“We need a balcony where Sorae can land,” Alixe said, wisely steering the subject to safer ground. “The throne room, perhaps.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Zalaric cut in. “The Centenaries sometimes sneak up there and use the throne for their, um... activities.”

“Yrselle’s private dining room,” I said. “There’s a large terrace, and no one will be using that room this late.”

Zalaric nodded. “We should go now. If she’s still in the lounge, the path may be clear of guards.”

“ We? ” I asked, eyebrows rising.

Taran sat straighter. “You’ll come with us?”

Zalaric quietly stared at his hands for a moment. “If I do, I will not hide who I am, where I’ve been, or what I’ve done. I am a half-mortal and a Hanoverre. And I refuse to be anyone’s dirty little secret.”

He glanced at Taran, who gave a subtle nod.

“Good,” I said firmly. “I can’t promise you’ll be safe—I can’t even promise I will be safe. But I can promise you’ll have a Queen as your ally.”

He took a deep breath. “Then let’s go home.”