88. Bastian
Bastian
“M arwood?” Evin’s eyes widened, and he pulled his spear away. “It’s all right. It’s the queen’s Shadow. Stand down.”
I nodded, catching my breath.
“No time for lying down on the job, Serpent.” He narrowed his eyes at me but held out a hand.
“Well, it looked like you had it all under control.” I smirked like I wasn’t bothered by his tone, and truth be told, I’d grown used to it. Evin had known my father well before the Wars of Succession, and he’d taken his death personally. Perhaps even more so because he’d helped train me.
I let him help me to my feet. As I checked my shoulder—just a shallow cut that hurt like hells—the groans and sobs hit me.
Another makeshift infirmary. But where Hydra Ascendant’s had contained orderly rows of beds, this one was chaos incarnate.
Folk lay on the long dining table as folk tried to stem their bleeding or splint broken bones.
Uninjured guests stood or sat together in tight knots, heads bowed in urgent conversation.
Some just huddled together and cried, their finery soaking up tears and blood in equal measure.
“We’re trying to manage them, but…” Evin shook his head. “They’re a gnat’s ballsack away from panic.”
“That’s a delightful image.”
“These are delightful times. Dusk guards are holding our door from the other side. Looks like the attackers are trying to get in here.” He jerked his chin towards the far end of the room.
I’d known it was likely, but the confirmation made my stomach clench. “Any word on the fighting on our side? On the queen?”
“It’s not as bad there as it is in Dawn. The Queensguard has secured Her Majesty’s apartments.”
“Good.” And not just because Braea was safe in her Sleep, but because it meant both parts of me could search for Kat.
Still nothing , my other self confirmed when I shifted my focus towards him. His sword was bloody, his muscles warm. No pain, though.
“Go and get yourself bandaged up, Marwood. We don’t have any full healers, but he’ll be able to take care of your injury.” He jerked his chin to one side.
“It’s only a scratch.”
His mouth went flat. “On your shoulder. Perfect for making you flinch. We taught you better than that.”
My father had always said it was the small cuts that made you hesitate, and it was that hesitation that got you killed. With fighting in the palace and Evin’s echo of his lessons, a sudden heaviness pulled on my chest.
I inclined my head and followed his gesture, finding myself face to face with Caelus.
We stilled, holding each other’s gaze. His gleaming, sunlight hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, and a smear of blood covered his cheek. Not his usual perfect self.
I made a soft sound of acknowledgement and shrugged off my jacket, wincing. “You all right?”
He nodded. “You’re not, though.” He beckoned me closer. “Show me. And while I take care of it, you can tell me where Katherine is.”
Gritting my teeth, I turned my shoulder towards him and unbuttoned my shirt. “Why would I tell you that?”
“Because I don’t see her here and I’m worried that means she’s—”
“She’s not.” She couldn’t be. We’d been through too much for that to happen.
He huffed. “I forgot how much you believe your will really can change the world.”
“Just get on with it.” The tingle of his magic flowed into me, golden and warm. “Didn’t know you were a healer.”
“Not much of one. Fixing bodies isn’t my primary gift.” Instead of a rueful smile, he gave a meaningful smirk.
“And what is?” I edged the bounds of politeness, asking about his magic, but he’d bridged part of that gap by hinting there was something else.
“I can do all kinds of things with bodies, Bastian.” He glanced at my hand and a tingling sensation crept over my skin, not wholly unpleasant.
“It’s a pity Kat didn’t get a chance to discover that sooner.
I think she might’ve chosen differently.
But I can take care of minor injuries, and stop bleeding from the major ones while we wait for a true healer to get here…
or for this to all be over.” He frowned at Dawn’s entrance.
Perhaps he and I weren’t so different.
The warmth of his magic shifted, stinging now. It was always the way with healing—the sensation of flesh or bone knitting together was not a pleasant one. And the worse the injury, the worse the pain.
“… a run for it.” A voice drifted from a nearby couple.
“We should get out of the palace.” A gold-haired woman clasped her hands at her chest as a few more guards sidled over.
“Not just the palace—the fucking city.” The man with her, tall and slender, shook her by the shoulders and cast his gaze over the rest of the group forming around them. “First the Horrors, now this?”
Sighing as Caelus’s magic withdrew, I rolled my shoulder. No pull of sliced flesh. No hesitation. Evin and my father were right.
“Don’t be idiots,” I called to the group. “Stay here.”
The man scowled. “Why should we, Serpent?”
“Or don’t.” I buttoned up my shirt. “It’s all the same to me.
But if you want to live, you’re better off here.
There are only two entrances for enemies to attack through, so it’s easier for the guards to defend.
If you go that way”—I pointed to Dawn’s door—“well, last time I saw, there were almost a dozen guards and more arriving. And that way”—I indicated Dusk’s door—“is more fighting.”
Caelus folded his arms as I pulled on the blue jacket. “You’re no safer over there.”
The tall man’s shoulders slumped.
Patting his back, the blond woman gave us a tremulous smile. “We’ll stay.” She pressed her lips together before dipping her chin. “Thank you for the warning.”
The group around them dispersed.
“Thanks for that.” Caelus huffed. “He’s been stirring since he got here, and I’ve been trying to calm him down, but…” He gestured at the injured folk around us.
“And thanks for this.” I raised my shoulder. “Here.” I handed him my borrowed sword. If everything went according to plan, I would soon replace it with my Shadowblade. “Just in case.”
With a tight smile, he inclined his head. “Good luck, Marwood.”
As I turned, Dusk’s door opened and a falcon shot through, grey wings tight to its body. Slowing, it enlarged, legs growing longer, feathers retreating. A second later, a fae landed, accepting a cloak from one of the other guards.
I sidled over as Evin ordered the panting shapechanger to give her report.
“We tried to get to the throne room, but the way was blocked.” Her voice rasped. Someone pressed a drink into her hand and she took a gulp. “The king and the Kingsguard were spotted fighting their way through, but more Ascendants closed in on their position.”
“Shit.” Evin echoed my thoughts.
Whatever Hydra Ascendant’s bigger plan, they were after the king for now—perhaps also the rest of Dawn’s royal family.
Knowing the queen was safe, I could return to Dawn’s side of the palace and look for Kat… or aim for the throne room and protect the king.
His two heirs meant his death wouldn’t be as catastrophic as Braea’s, but with Hydra Ascendant clearly made up of Dusk Court fae—every one I’d seen had midnight hair—if one of them killed Lucius, it would become more than a diplomatic incident.
I wouldn’t put it past Cyrus to argue he’d been assassinated by Dusk—technically true, but not the full picture.
I shared a glance with Evin before asking, “Have reinforcements been sent to His Majesty?”
The messenger’s eyes widened when they landed on me. “We tried, ser.” Her voice shook. “But the attackers have secured all entrances to Dawn. They’re on their own.”
Evin swore again. “Every lodestone’s cut off? You’re sure?”
“Every one, ser.”
Not every lodestone.