Chapter 59 Devora #2
He didn’t look like the same nervous, innocent young man I’d come to know the last few weeks.
I watched the nineteen-year-old Alchemist snap a man’s neck with a swish of his hand tonight.
I wondered if, like me, that was his first time taking someone’s life.
The first time to feel blood on his hands and know he would be changed forever.
“I think they’re all going to make it,” he said, wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “It’ll be a long night, though.”
Nox put a hand on Milo’s shoulder. “I asked about you.”
Milo sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t know, Nox. I can’t think about it. He would want me to make sure everyone else is taken care of, so that’s what I’m doing. For him.”
Nox and I shared a glance. “There’s something else we think you might be able to do for him, if you’re up for it,” Nox finally said.
Milo’s eyes shot up. “Anything.”
“Hey now, are you three planning something?” Tessa asked. She finished folding the last of the bandages. “I want in.”
Everett threw off his blanket. “Me too.”
Nox sighed. “Fine. Might as well get Kieran and Arowyn. Where are they?”
“They’re burning the bodies out front,” Milo said quietly. “Go get them. I’ll make sure the healers can take it from here.”
Once our entire group was assembled, we rushed to the workshop. Milo faltered when he reached the table in front of the Alchemist’s cabinets. Silas’s Grimoire was still open to the last page he’d used, his bag of herbs spilling out over the top.
A wave of loss washed over the space. I could still picture his hunched form leaning over those pages, his spectacles fogging with steam from his potions.
The way he’d straighten his back and brush his hands on his apron when someone tried to talk to him.
How he’d clean his glasses on his sweater in moments of deep thought.
Milo’s hand rested on the table. He had thousands of those moments with his mentor. I had the sudden urge to wrap this lanky boy in my arms and protect him from the rest of the world. I rubbed a hand up and down his back, wishing I could comfort him, but he flinched away from my touch.
The space was filled with silence when Nox finished explaining our idea, until Arowyn snorted. “Well, Fates. The newbie saves the day again. Where have you been all our lives?”
To my surprise, Milo shot me a glare. I barely had time to register the hurt and anger in his eyes before he looked back at Nox. “If that’s the spell I think it is, it’s a powerful one. I’m not nearly as strong as him. As—as Silas. Not enough to help you the way he could.”
“That isn’t true,” Kieran said, shaking his head. “Silas believed in you. He chose you as his apprentice. I saw you tonight, Milo. You’re every bit as strong as any of us.”
On my left, Everett stepped closer and put a firm hand on Milo’s forearm. “None of us expect you to be Silas. He’s taught you well, and you’re more than capable of being what this refuge needs.”
Tessa gave Milo an encouraging smile and hitched her thumb at Everett, who readjusted his eyepatch. “I’m with Captain Everett on this. You’ve grown so much, Milo. And Silas was so proud of you. More than I think you’ll ever know.”
Milo raised his eyes to meet Nox’s, his lower lids lined with silver. Nox nodded at him. “They’re right. And even if you can’t do this spell yet, we’ll still believe in you.”
“Through flame and ash,” Kieran added.
“Through flame and ash,” Milo murmured, his lips barely moving. With a deep breath, he crossed to Silas’s Grimoire, pausing for a split second before turning the pages.
I set the cloth with Scarven’s blood on the table as Milo prepared the spell.
He gathered ingredients and put them in a mortar, glancing back at the book every once in a while.
It felt like we were all holding our breaths.
Nox reached over and brushed a single finger down my arm, and I caught it with my hand and squeezed.
Milo took the cloth and smoothed it on the table, then sprinkled crushed herbs on top of it. He muttered a spell, and flames erupted on the surface of the cloth.
“Vidia,” he breathed.
My heart pounded, my skin tingling with eagerness as we watched the fire dance and flicker. I didn’t realize he’d have to burn it. This really was our only shot. Once that small bit of blood was gone, we’d have nothing.
I waited, muscles tight and teeth clenched, as the edges of the cloth began to darken and curl in on themselves.
“It’s not working,” Milo said, his shoulders sagging.
We waited a couple more seconds, and still, nothing happened. Nox leaned forward and blew out the fire with a blast of hot breath. “Again,” he instructed Milo.
The young Alchemist blinked at him. “There’s hardly any cloth left. I can’t do it, Nox. I’ll ruin it.”
Nox planted his palms on the table and pierced Milo with his stare. “You can, Milo. You can find Scarven. You can find the man who did this to us. To Silas.”
Milo held Nox’s eyes for a heartbeat. Two. Then he reached for his mortar and spread more herbs on top of what was left of the bloody cloth. Nox opened his mouth and let out a small stream of dragon fire, igniting the herbs anew.
One last time, Milo muttered, “Vidia.”
Nerves churned in my stomach. My pulse raced, beating back the exhaustion that hovered over me like a cloud.
Nothing.
And then—