Chapter Forty-Seven
T haliya’s words echo in my mind, clicking and churning into place.
I pick up my pace, following the trail of vines down the turret stairs, wondering yet again if I’m too late.
Know yourself, know your path.
All those times before, I thought I heard her words, thought I knew what she meant. But now, the ray of meaning hits more directly. And my heart sinks, knowing that they’ve tried to tell me this whole time, and even though I thought I was listening, I wasn’t hearing them. And now, everything is a mess and could even be too far gone to fix.
Knowing that sooner than later, the vines will be noticed and traced back to my chambers, I need to make every moment count. As I approach the ending of the staircase, I have a strange awareness that someone is close. The vines. They move ahead of me. My attention heightens in the same way everything heightened that one day I spared with Patton. What did he call it?
With bare feet and light footsteps, I reach the bottom of the stairs and try to peek through the ever flowing vines. It's impossible. I can barely control them. Instead, I hold my breath as footsteps turn the corner, readying the sword in my hand, no longer a foreign weight in my arms while I try to make out friend or foe .
I could almost laugh out loud with relief. Coming around the corner is Gryphon and Thaliya. Gryphon with a ridiculous look on his face and his sword out at an awkward and completely ineffective angle and Thaliya, who I do a double take at. Her aloof posture completely replaced with something much more severe, almost animalistic, honed from unseen ages of things I could not guess at. But the look in her eyes tells me she knows what she’s doing.
I half leap half fall from the last of the steps, reaching Gryphon and Thaliya as they turn the corner.
“Roe, I was coming,” Gryphon bursts, relief evident on his features. His sword clatters across the floor at the same moment he throws his arms around me.
“I don’t need you to save me,” I say, and it comes out harsher than I mean. I don’t think the lack of breath and the blood spattered across my clothes does anything to help my tone. But he looks at me hurt still, no doubt upset about how I misled him with my sword play all this time. But I pull him back to arm’s length. “But I am so glad you’re here.”
He smiles and hugs me tight. “I’ll always be here.”
Beside us, Thaliya whistles low and tosses me a pack. My pack. The one Killian took before locking me in my room. They’ve been busy.
As she does, she also pulls a sword belt from over her shoulder and hefts it toward me.
I smile at her. “You’ve brought me Ivy’s Embrace.” I smile as the name flows easily from my lips. Patton was right, I just know. I sheath my own sword at my hip, ready to move on and then shove my dagger into my belt on the other side.
Thaliya smiles, but it fades as she looks around us. “You have to get control of your vines. Ground yourself or we’ll never get out, either because they’ve found and cornered us or our vines have done the work for them.” Her words come out in quick, low huffs with her attention constantly scanning the hallways around us.
“Yes, but how? Ever since they’ve started crawling up from the garden, they’ve only gotten bigger, more destructive. I can’t control them.”
“You’re thinking too much.” Her hand wraps around my wrist finding my pulse in one practiced motion. “First control what’s in here.” Her other hand points to my mind and then my heart. “Then you can control this.” She does a sweep with her head toward the twirling, climbing chaos behind us.
I try to calm my breathing, but nothing changes. I can still feel the hum of the vines within me, under me, everywhere. “It’s not working.”
“Don’t worry about what’s working. First, this.” She does to me what I’ve seen her do with her patients a thousand times. She gently brushes my sweat-plastered curls away from my cheeks and my forehead. Her eyes meet my own, and without a word, I know she’s asking me to focus on myself.
I close my eyes, aware that both she and Gryphon wait.
At first, there’s nothing but darkness and the sounds of the weight of vines snapping wooden hallway furniture and pulling down chandeliers. But the hum is still there, so I follow it. First in the vines, but then deeper and deeper into myself until I find the root of the seedling glowing and bright within me.
Now, the hum becomes more of a melody, something sweet and lilting and flowing. It surrounds me, engulfs Thaliya and then Gryphon. I can feel our heartbeats become part of the rhythm, each calling and echoing the tune. I pull a little at the edges and the tune changes. The difference is small, but there, so I pull again. Suddenly, I can feel the vines bending back toward us.
My eyes open slowly, glancing around between barely opened eyelids, worried what I’ll find in the quiet surrounding us. The vines, now calm, retreat. Climbing back up the turret stairs, back to my chambers.
“Good.” Thaliya nods at my work as if it was a simple bandage dressing. And maybe that’s what she’s been training me for all along. She gets up, and then helps me stand on my now unsteady legs and brushes me off. “All this tulle and velvet is a damn shame, child.”
I look down at what’s left of my dress. “I tripped,” is all I have to offer, but she laughs and pulls at what’s left of the topmost layers of tulle. What was once a full, floor-length skirt that would’ve brushed the doorways as I walked through, now barely brushes the tops of my knees.
“I’ll say. We’ll dig you out of your hole yet.”
“I love dress alterations as much as the next guy, but did we decide what’s next? We have Roe, so now to Baylor?” The tension in Gryphon’s shoulders defies his light tone as he glances around the hallways again.
I swallow the knot of worry at the mention of Baylor and what I’ve caused him, nodding in agreement that to save him is our next move. “Thaliya,” I begin, knowing I have so much to apologize for and knowing even if we weren’t up against a clock, there wouldn’t ever be enough words for how grateful I am she’s remained by my side.
“I know, love.” She pats my hand and gives a knowing smile, one that forgives and forgets before the words have even been uttered.
“Baylor is still in the dungeons? Or have they moved him to preparations?” I cringe as I ask, trying to catch up on everything I’ve missed while being locked up in my own cell .
“As of this morning, they plan to keep him in the dungeons as long as possible. Killian was hoping to draw information from him before his sentence plays out. Damn fool.” Thaliya rolls her eyes, as if she’s used to this behavior. Maybe she is as I think back to her role these past thirty-five years.
“Thaddeus will know. He’s been keeping track of movement between Killian’s men and Baylor. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least not yet.” Gryphon gulps at Thaliya’s explanation; his eyes wide, no doubt imagining in what state Baylor will be in when we reach the bowels of the castle. I’d have to agree with Gryphon’s assessment of Baylor’s predicament, but at the mention of Thaddeus, my heart sinks. He said he was with us at the ball, but there’s been too much left unsaid between us. I don’t even know where he stands with me. Or helping with us. Or with him and me.
We move in silence, hiding ourselves against the shadows of the walls and splintered furniture. Although I know the way to the dungeons, I can’t say I’ve ever stepped foot in them. But even my worst nightmares don’t prepare me for the sounds that meet my ears as soon as the stone steps end.
“Watch out.” Gryphon shoves me against the algae-slicked wall just before my bare feet are sliced open from broken glass, from the looks of it, wine bottles, but in the dim light streaming in through the window slits at the ceiling, it's hard to tell.
There’s an insistent drip-drop and I can’t tell whether it’s my imagination or if everything down here is really darkness tinged with crimson. With care, we make our way down the narrow hall that opens to rows of ironclad cells. Moans and cries reverberate through cell after cell, most with just one occupant who doesn’t even look up as we pass. There’s no hope down here .
“Bay! My sweet Bay.” Thaliya runs ahead of us into the darkness. And what we find is shocking. If I could give my life to forget the horror in front of me that is now Baylor, I would in a heartbeat.
When we all catch up to where Thaliya’s gentle whispers mix with a sound somewhere between a sob and a child’s cry, each one of us is frozen to the periphery of the cell for a moment.
In the faint darkness of the dungeon, Thaliya’s fingers gently trace his face, but with all the bruising and blood, only a mother would be able to tell her son is somewhere underneath. I’ve seen her work hundreds of times, but the look in her eyes—something between rage and a brokenness—will haunt me forever. She doesn’t stop, though, so I come to my senses, looking for anything resembling a clean rag to help.
There’s nothing. Everything down here is coated with layers of varying stages of dried blood and dirt. I bite back the bile rising in my throat at the smell of death and despair that permeates everything surrounding us.
Down here, the white flowing layers of my dress practically glow, so without another thought, I break into the motion of a healer. A healer who’s able to separate her feelings and surroundings from the task at hand. I rip more fabric from the layers of skirt and take three long strides into the middle of the room, where Baylor’s arms and legs are strapped spread eagle to a wide slab of wood.
I mechanically catalog each of his many lacerations, tying off the ones still bleeding. All while Baylor’s pulse, there but too faint, beats in answer to Thaliya’s whispered song echoing off the empty walls.
A shadow crosses the only light seeping in from the small window slats causing everyone to jump. But while Thaliya is lost to Baylor, Gryphon who hasn’t moved since laying eyes on Baylor, rushes to my side with his sword at the ready.
“There’s not enough time,” a familiar voice, a balm to the terrors surrounding us, sounds in the darkness.
“There’s nothing here we can’t fix.” Thaliya’s head of ward voice cuts Thaddeus off.
“Yes, but there is no time. If we want to live—if we want Baylor to live—we must go now.” Thaddeus looks toward the stairs as if his Ancient ears pick up sounds approaching we can't. Judging by the way Thaliya’s jaw clenches, she hears it, too.
In a quick movement, Thaddeus crosses to Thaliya and Baylor. Gryphon’s eyes widen but he valiantly moves to step between Thaddeus and the others, only to find Thaddeus pulling his dagger and slicing deeply across his own wrist. A hiss escapes his lips and he offers his wrist. Even in the darkness, I can smell his fresh blood, mingling with the other stale scents in the room. “Here.” He offers his wrist to Baylor.
Thaliya looks to Thaddeus’ proffered wrist and tsks. “There’s no need for blood magic here. He’s immortal. He will heal.”
“Yes, of course he’ll heal.” Thaddeus’ tone tinges with urgency. “But if we’re to all leave here alive, he needs to drink. And now.”
I watch as Thaliya’s will battles with Thaddeus’ urgency. What was it that Thaddeus said about an Ancient’s blood? If they share their blood with another, it will heal all wounds instantly, but the two will be bonded for eternity. Is that what Thaliya fears? Her son becoming bonded in some way to an Ancient? Isn’t that infinitely better than the alternative?
“Thaliya,” my voice breaks on her name, but she looks away from Baylor’s broken face to me. “This can help. Thaddeus can help.” I nod toward her son’s prone form .
She looks from me to her son then to Thaddeus’ outstretched and bleeding wrist, blood already dripping to the floor while fear and distrust mark each one of her features. But also love. She nods and moves to rouse Baylor enough for him to drink.
“Sweet Bay.” Thaliya ever so gently prods Baylor in the shoulder, angling herself under him enough to lift his neck and head. Gryphon falls to his knees beside the table and angles Baylor’s body against his chest. His movements are strong and practiced while his eyes scream to be anywhere but in this moment.
Thaddeus moves his wrist to Baylor’s mouth, wrapping his other hand around the back of Baylor’s head. “Drink.” Underneath the urgent demand, there’s an Ancient strength that even in his blood loss and nearly unconscious state, Baylor responds to. With Thaddeus’ help, he manages to close his lips around the bleeding wound, lapping at the blood.
But as soon as Thaddeus’ blood crosses Baylor’s lips, a new fervor awakens within him. His wrists buck against the ropes tying him to the block of wood as he tries to taste more, drink more. Thaddeus’ concentration buckles only a moment as he winces, adjusting to Baylor’s thirst.
He’s giving himself to Baylor so that Baylor can live. The lines of his face are hardened against the pain. The lines of his arms bulge against the struggle of holding Baylor close enough to get what he needs, but making sure Baylor doesn’t take too much.
In this moment, I see it. He doesn’t present the selfish, take-all air he usually does. In fact, he’s so selfless. And I ruined it between us. He’s been here this whole time, risking everything to find me and reunite me with my long-lost sister and I overlooked that. All of it.
Tears flow freely down Thaliya’s cheeks. Her gaze flits back and forth between her son’s growing thirst and building energy to Thaddeus’ controlled stoicism. “Enough.” Thaliya’s tone leaves no room for argument, but Thaddeus allows Baylor a moment longer before he breaks Baylor’s hold on him.
A moment passes as my mind attempts to catch up to what just happened. But before any sense can be made, Baylor groans loudly, too loudly. Thaliya sobs and moves to untie the ropes binding him. Gryphon and I are faster, and the work is done before Thaliya has left Baylor’s side.
Thaddeus rises, a little ashen, but no less wobbly from what just happened. With a preternatural tilt of his head, he listens to sounds too far off for my ears. Apparently unsatisfied with what begins to close in on us, he sweeps Baylor into his arms and heads out of the cell. “If we hurry, we can still make it. They’re closing in quickly now, though.”
I gather my sword along with the one I picked up from that first guard, which now seems like eons ago.
Gryphon and I lead the way up the stairs and as we take the last stairs, I turn to ask him if he’s ready. The question dies in my throat at the look I find on his face.