Chapter 28
Graysen
The peace that came with accepting my fate was fleeting, and distress for my friend returned.
Beneath my boots the ground quaked as I chewed through the catacombs in single strides, cradling Mela to my chest and offering her what warmth I could. But she was a rag doll in my arms.
Mela’s breathing terrified me. The patternless beat of her heart accompanied shallow gasps for air. Where the bolt had seared her flesh, the skin was dying and curling like aged paint, and the toxic vine-veins, thin shadows beneath her dark skin, crept across her face.
How much further?!—I barked at the Uzrek.
You’re nearly there, death-dealer!
The world streaked by in a rush of darkness as I stepped from one place into another, the void folding distance in on itself.
Similar to how Nelle had followed the river to the lakeside cottage in a series of short swifts.
I could only travel in bursts of straight lines—no corners, no moving through objects.
Loose stones kicked beneath my boots as I careered wildly around a corner and erupted into a small chamber, its walls lined with skulls.
On the other side was an entrance to a staircase.
Silvery eyes peered at me from high above, and tiny pix trapped in glass orbs cast purplish light across the crudely hewn steps.
Larkspur was carved into the arched entrance, reminding me briefly of one of my mother’s arbors.
The Purveyor of Rarities is right up there—the Uzrek advised as I reached the bottom of the staircase arrowing upward. This is where I must take my leave. I can’t follow you—not with all the wards woven around the two separate paths that lead up and down the steps.
It’s warded?—I hadn’t realized it when Nelle and I had sought Florin.
In a way, Tamer. The entranceways are signposts too.
It was curious information I tucked away to think upon later. Right now, I had Mela to save.
Thank you for all your help—I replied. And it was far too shallow an expression for everything he’d done.
Ah, one day, thief, you’ll return the favor. His whisper of a laugh sounded so much like Sirro’s that for a moment I wondered if I’d been played. Good luck, Tamer. I hope your friend survives Skalki’s curse.
His presence waned like dawn vanquishing starlight as I hurtled up the steps.
One stride I was at the bottom, the next I reappeared on the landing outside the Purveyor of Rarities.
The enormous door stood before me, tall and stoic and weathered. Power surged through my veins like a weapon, vibrating with exhilaration. I didn’t bother knocking.
A wicked storm of might exploded outward as my boot connected with the door.
It flew off its hinges, spinning across the room and smashing through cabinetry.
The silver bell tinkled as if caught in a sudden gust. Display cabinets burst into kindling and tables toppled, their wares knocked off shelves or shattered into pieces.
I raced through the doorway.
And slammed into an invisible wall.
I rebounded, staggering back, righting myself quickly.
What the actual hells?!
I didn’t stop to think. I charged forward like an enraged bull, trying to cross the threshold again—only to be shunted back by a hard wall of magic, much like the wild magic warding my quarters in the Keep’s tower.
“Florin!” I roared, beyond frustrated. “FLORIN!”
My mind spun into confusion. I hadn’t experienced this earlier today with Nelle, we’d walked straight into his lair. Although Florin seemed to challenge Nelle in particular, almost as if he expected she wouldn’t be able to enter.
“FLORIN!”
Mela sagged in my arms, barely responsive. Her heavy eyelids were papery-thin, her gaze fever-bright.
“Hold on, Mela, I’ve got you,” I whispered hoarsely, squeezing her gently.
All the candles in Florin’s lair had been snuffed out, the shop sunk in darkness.
The only light came from the ghostly stormbird feather floating overhead, fading in and out of existence.
My ears pricked at the rapid clack of cloven hooves on stone and a horrified gasp from somewhere behind the wreckage.
“WHAT THE HELLS HAPPENED HERE?!” Florin bellowed as he stumbled into view.
His blood-red goat’s eyes were wide with astonished fury as he shoved an arm through the sleeve of a feathered robe, emerald plumage ruffling as it settled around his enormous frame.
He edged around the debris, taking in the shattered rarities and curiosities scattered across the floor.
“Florin! I can’t get in!”
He twisted toward me. The fierce scowl melted the moment he saw Mela cradled in my arms. “Of course not. It’s warded against mortals,” he admonished.
I shook my head, frowning. I lifted Mela slightly, almost like an offering. “She’s from our world of Houses.”
“And still human,” he answered, stomping closer. “Whereas you are not. Not with your ancestors’ blood blessing you and your siblings.”
Nelle entering his domain earlier had given away her secret. A memory arose of what he’d said to me at the end of our visit.
She’s not what she appears to be—a mere girl.
Florin had known she wasn’t entirely human. Not with the beast lurking inside her. Though I doubted he knew exactly what she was, only that she carried something hidden.
Mela spasmed weakly in my arms. She hacked a wheezing breath, and droplets of blood speckled my armor and neck. “Please,” I begged, terrified. “I need your help. She’s dying.”
He squinted, blue-black brows drawing tight in concentration, and with a flex of his taloned fingers, the magical wards parted in a brief, iridescent shimmer.
In a flash, I shouldered through the threshold into his lair, weaving through the wreckage and dashing into his office.
Weak flames wavered in the hearth, casting a red glow across soot-stained stone.
Florin followed quickly, sweeping a massive forearm across the workbench and sending the bits and pieces collected there flying.
“Lay her down here,” he urged. At the flick of his fingers, candles burst alight.
I set Mela gently on the worn workbench. Florin moved beside me, his expression sharpening as he examined the spreading curse. He eased down the zipper of her armor, carefully pulling apart the jacket to assess how far the damage had reached.
My stomach lurched. It was worse than I’d feared.
The tangled mass of vine-veins crawled across her chest like poisonous roots burrowing deeper, slipping beneath the sweat-soaked singlet. The thorny nodes wept a dark fluid that threaded through her flesh like blight taking hold in a dying garden.
Oh gods…
I hurried to the apothecary cupboard, fumbling with the drawers. Words tumbled out of me in a frantic rush. I knew I wasn’t making sense, but panic had me in a chokehold. This was all my fucking fault. I couldn’t lose my best friend, not now, not like this.
Florin lifted a hand. “Slow down. What did you say, something about Ges-what?”
“Mela got hit by a Gestelt bolt,” I shot back, rifling through the drawers, trying to remember where the vial was kept.
Think, think, think… Where the fuck is it?
I abandoned the drawers and yanked open the inner set of cabinet doors. Rows of strange items in vivid hues gleamed back at me. I grabbed the one I needed, magic prickling across my fingers.
“A Gestelt bolt?” Florin hissed in astonishment.
He stumbled from the workbench, yanking back his hands as if afraid that by merely touching Mela the poison ravaging her would infect him too.
“I can’t help her. She’s been poisoned by Skalki herself.
There’s nothing I can do to save her. It’s impossible. This is beyond my capabilities.”
Fury slashed through my veins.
Like hells he wouldn’t. Horned God or not, I’d force him to!
“YOU HAVE TO TRY!” It roared from deep within my chest and erupted through the office in an explosive shudder, shaking furnishings and unmooring curiosities, even Florin himself. I stormed forward and thrust the vial toward him. “You have this. Surely this could save her!”
I held the vial of Skalki’s joyful tears that had turned to salt. Bristly magic strummed the air and skittered across my calloused fingers, the remnants of Skalki’s titanic might biting at my bones.
Florin stared, wide-eyed, then blinked as realization dawned. “I don’t know if it will save her or kill her.”
“You said yourself that this could reverse the effect of the Gestelt tree!”
“What do I know?” he snapped, clutching his robe. “I’m not a true healer.”
“No, but you’re the only one we have!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and blew out a furious breath, forcing myself to dampen my temper. Pressing my hands together in a plea, I softened my voice and implored, “Please, Florin. We have to try. And quickly.”
He cast a reluctant glance at Mela, then drew in a deep, contemplative breath.
His gaze swept over my face, reading the desperation there.
Full lips pressed into a firm line as he nodded, ethereal smoke wafting faintly around his enormous ram horns.
Even so, hesitation lingered when he plucked the vial from my hand.
I hurried back to Mela, curling my fingers around her limp hand, cradling it between both of mine. I swallowed my terror at the icy feel of her hand, the way she shook, the godsawful whimper she tried to stifle.
Brushing a comforting touch across her forehead, ash and dust smudging beneath my fingertips. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, my voice nearly breaking.
I’m sorry, Mela.
If I hadn’t dragged you into this, you’d be home. Safe. Alive.