Chapter 8
Vad
I’d seen death before. Delivered it more times than I could count. But this?
This felt personal.
I stood frozen in the doorway of Physician Morlo’s medical chamber, my hand braced against the frame.
Morlo’s body lay slumped over the long stone table—the same table where we’d sat just days ago, discussing the coronation and threats.
Now his skull was cracked wide at the crown, and the brown eyes that had always been half-lidded with exhaustion had been burned from their sockets.
Blackened veins spidered down his face and throat, the flesh around them brittle and singed.
His hands were splayed across the table like offerings, fingertips raw and nail-less, each bed caked in dried blood.
This was a warning, a message, and a punishment.
The underlying scent hit next. Cloying lavender and sharper rosemary—his signature blend—tainted with iron and something darker.
Merlinite.
Behind me, Briar gasped.
“Scaff—” Thalen started to swear but stopped. A strangled sound followed, as if he’d swallowed the words.
I couldn’t move or breathe, because I knew who had done this.
Colm.
He must have killed Morlo before the wedding and coronation. He’d been planning this from the start. His magic had been enhanced, and his powers strengthened and mutated.
And I’d handed him the object that had allowed his plan and powers to amplify. I hadn’t expected the consequences to come so swiftly.
Shadow magic was difficult and demanding, and even painful for those who shouldn’t channel it. But this wasn’t the work of natural progression.
A memory snapped into place like a blade at my throat.
Elias.
The chained prisoner, drained for power, whom Briar had met in the Aureline dungeons and begged me to save. What if he hadn’t been the only one? What if Colm had perfected a way to siphon life, not just to fuel spells but to transfer power?
It had been happening in Colm’s prison. If they’d been careful, who was to say that any number of individuals hadn’t also been drained? How likely was it that Colm would assist someone like Kaylen without also gaining something for himself? And why would it be limited to only those two?
I dragged a hand down my face, fury rising within me.
I’d been so desperate to get Briar back that I hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that he could be draining another’s magic and essence to transform himself. I’d banked on the merlinite orb being an easy way to gain favor and navigate the situation.
The cost hadn’t simply been sentimentality and my sister’s ire. It had cost the life of a man who had served the royal family with unshaken loyalty for centuries. A man whose last words to me had been about his desire to celebrate my wedding and coronation.
My eyes shut, and my throat locked with hot rage.
Colm’s vicious face flashed into my mind, those smirking eyes, leathery skin, and artificial claw tips. He’d tortured my beloved, and he would have destroyed her in the most cruel and painful ways imaginable.
If there were a way to ensure that his suffering would be greater than Briar’s and Morlo’s combined, I would do it. Colm would pay. And Morlo would be honored. He’d been a good man who’d deserved none of the suffering and indignity he’d no doubt endured in his final hours.
“Why did no one help him?” Briar whispered. The glow from the vials on the far shelves cast the room in a pale, eerie green and blue light. “How did anyone miss this happening?”
“Silencing sigils.” My fingers brushed one etched into the doorframe. “When the door is closed, no sound can pass through.” I’d never questioned their effectiveness, but there was no doubt of it now.
“Scaffing void.” Thalen dragged a hand over his mouth. “Who did this, and how?”
“Colm Ainle,” I spat.
Thalen’s brows lifted as the truth slammed into him. “Feck. All right. What do we do? Colm’s an even bigger problem now.”
For once, our lack of magic was a good thing. “Colm can’t use his new powers right now. So, we gather what we came for, get back to our allies, and regroup.” I squared my shoulders. The horror still gripped me with cold fingers, but we had to focus on survival.
There were countless dead already, and Morlo wouldn’t be the last. All we could do was make sure their deaths counted for something.
I moved to one of the cabinets and removed a stiff black leather satchel that Physician Morlo had often used.
He’d always brought it on his night visits to my father and Elara.
It was already stocked with most of the medications, teas, poultices, and treatments Elara needed.
Vyraetos had told me what to look for to stop Thalira’s bleeding and other medicines used to treat wounds.
I set the satchel on the small round table near the largest cabinet. “Gather anything that might be useful. Morlo labeled everything. I’ll get the treatments for Elara and Thalira.”
Morlo had been meticulous in both his record-keeping and his labels. Even though Briar wouldn’t be as familiar with the names, she’d be able to determine general categories and find tools.
She went to one of the narrow cabinets and began removing bandages and suture kits, stacking them carefully into the bag.
Thalen began gathering jars of herbs and salts for wounds and poisons, along with several glowing, viscous solutions.
I found the specific antidotes Vyraetos had described and tucked them into the satchel. I also snatched extras of the clotting tincture, in case we encountered more of those venom-coated weapons. We couldn’t be caught unprepared again.
When I finished, I turned my attention to the vials lining the shelf wall.
Some of the containers held mushrooms, their bioluminescence the brightest of the bunch of what I assumed were either tinctures or failed experiments.
Others contained stones pulsing with dim, fluctuating light.
I gathered a few to serve as light sources in case we ran out of oil.
But as I stooped to retrieve a vial holding a black-capped mushroom, something else caught my attention. A thin line of light leaked from a narrow seam behind the shelves. I stepped closer and opened the narrow wooden cabinet.
Inside, several additional vials had been hidden away. Two in particular made my breath hitch.
They sat beside a venom-coated dagger just like the ones used to murder one of Briar’s friends and to wound Briar. The vials held a pale-blue liquid with hair suspended inside.
In one, Rhielle’s magenta hair floated gently with no glow.
In the second, Kaylen’s blonde hair drifted like silk, but three of the eight strands glowed, while the other five did not.
That was concerning.
I wrapped both vials in clean bandages and placed them in the bag.
Perhaps Vyraetos or Bryn would know what the difference in hairs signified.
Morlo had mentioned that exposing stolen magic could be more time-consuming if the victim had taken steps to mask it.
That could explain why some hairs glowed and the rest did not.
But unease twisted my gut. Something felt off.
Briar’s hand slid over mine, her touch grounding me. “Vad,” she whispered, her eyes wide with concern. “Where’s Elias? You said he was rescued and brought somewhere safe, but what if Colm found him and killed him or took him prisoner? We need to get him if we can.”
Good point. I should’ve already thought of that.
My thumb stroked the back of her hand. “You’re right. He might be able to tell us more about who is involved.”
Of course, I knew Briar’s concern stemmed from compassion for Elias.
Mine stemmed from strategy.
But it didn’t matter. She was right either way. And the way she thought of others, even now—it stirred something warm in my chest.
I pressed a kiss to her temple, then pulled one of the glowing vials from the bag and wrapped a clean bandage loosely around it to dull the glow enough to offer light without making us a beacon in the dark. “We’re going to get Elias.”
Thalen frowned. “Would they have already taken him—”
“Not if Physician Morlo kept his secrets,” I cut in, voice firm. “And I believe he did. Until the end.” I stepped toward the door, still gripping the wrapped vial. “Come on. We need to hurry.”
Thalen stepped into the corridor first, the stiff black leather bag clutched in one hand. Briar hesitated, glancing back at Morlo’s body. Grief shimmered in her eyes, raw and quiet, even though she’d barely known him.
I followed but paused in the doorway, unable to tear my gaze from the man who had been the royal family’s most trusted physician. A man who had brought me poultices and lectures in equal measure. A man who deserved so much more than this.
A man I’d avenge.
I swallowed hard, anger and guilt warring inside me. There was nothing we could do for him now.
Thalen’s hand rested on the heavy, dark oak door. He met my gaze with grim understanding. I gave a single nod, and he closed the door. The sound echoed, a final punctuation to a life of service.
The hallway pressed in, the air thick with the scent of blood and loss.
A familiar and suffocating weight settled over me. The weight of loss—of my father, my mother, and all those we’d lose if we failed now. There wasn't time for grief.
Vad? Briar’s voice brushed my mind, tentative but steady. She slid a hand over my arm. I’m here. I’m with you.
I closed my eyes and let the sensation of her presence anchor me, her strength and the way she held my hand, allowing the buzz to jolt between us. We’ll mourn him and all the others. But not tonight. Right now, we survive. We get everyone out. Then we make them pay.
I forced my legs to move, quickening my steps as I led Briar and Thalen into the shadows.
Behind us, the door to Morlo’s chamber stayed shut. But in my mind, it burned like a promise. His death would not go unanswered.