Cure
Dulbach didn’t spring out of bed and dance or miraculously seem half his age, but a few hours later—after Math had finished clearing away all the spontaneous growth—the old man opened his eyes.
He immediately snapped, “Where’s my lazy, good-for-nothing fool of a child? I’m hungry.”
Oltaxath was so happy she nearly wept.
Everyone’s attitude toward Math and Kai changed after that.
They still received their fair share of strange looks, but people were much friendlier.
That evening, the camp prepared a dinner more feast than meal.
Oltaxath carried her father out to sit by the fire and eat with them, and the old man actually consumed solid food.
Then, gradually, everyone shuffled off to bed.
In Math and Kai’s case, it came with a warning from Oltaxath not to sleep in—they would leave at dawn.
Their second night in the camp felt different.
Elevated. Math was given a clean set of clothes, far nicer than his ruined soldier’s garb.
Between that and Kai’s insistence on checking him for lingering vines—some of which had been in very inconvenient places—he wasn’t wearing nearly as much when they finally retired.
Which made it awkward when Math woke in the middle of the night to find Kai tossed over him like a shapely blanket.
He felt her breathing, the slow curl of her contentment. Her body pressed against him like she belonged there. Through their link, arousal flickered, raw and unmistakable.
He felt like cursing. Like praying. Like pleading.
He should have shifted away. Should have said nothing. Should have buried the thought with all the others he wasn’t allowed to feel.
Instead, he lay still, heart pounding against hers.
He wanted her desperately, and it was such a cursed and foolish idea.
Desire wasn’t the problem. Everyone in the Order had their quiet arrangements, but so long as no one spoke of it, it didn’t exist. No emotions, no confessions—just mechanics.
That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? This wasn’t mechanical; this was Kaiataris.
What he felt for her couldn’t be dismissed with silence or buried under doctrine.
The Idallik Order would never accept him back with her at his side. Even if he was absolved—if—she would still be anathema. Heretic. Monster. The living embodiment of everything they’d sworn to destroy.
Even though it wasn’t fair. Even though she’d created the Order. Even if she was their only chance of defeating the Three Queens.
She was still a heretic. Still heterodox. Still anathema.
Math lay still, trying not to think about how good she felt against him. The warmth of her body. The temptation to wake her with a kiss.
He failed.
Her breathing shifted. Then she stilled—as if weighing whether to pretend nothing had happened.
“Good morning,” he said, voice rough.
She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair still smelled like smoke from the train fire. “It seems we were too close when we finally slept.”
“You won’t hear me complain.”
She gave him an intense look, then pushed herself up, her hair a curtain between them and the waking world.
“No. I don’t suppose I will. Do you still want to kiss me?”
Despite everything, he didn’t hesitate. Math reached for her.
She met him halfway, her hands cupping his face, slowing him—not to stop him, but to savor the experience.
He wasn’t used to slowing down. Wasn’t used to being seen in the light.
But now, with her breath mingling with his, a faint warmth from her magic still humming in his chest, it felt undeniably necessary.
Kai kissed like she cast spells: Carefully, deliberately, with intention and purpose.
It made him realize two things. First, her breath was mint-fresh. And second—
“I need to shave, don’t I?” He touched her hand, where she was subtly avoiding his stubble. “I also need to brush my teeth.” And a few other things better left unsaid.
“And yet I would have been punished had I complained—denied those lips while you wandered off to tend to such matters.”
Outside, the camp stirred. They exchanged a look.
Kai rolled off him and rose to her feet, brushing herself off. She looked like every person wanted to look after waking, but never did—dewy, red-lipped, hair tousled just right.
Math narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll bite.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked.
“Stop that.” He sat up. “How are you clean? We’ve been traveling for days. You’ve been stabbed. I’ve been stabbed. I desperately need a bath. I desperately need a shave. You are perfect.” He stared. “You’re using magic, aren’t you? I think I hate you a little.”
She laughed. “You do not hate me.”
“Not even a little,” he admitted. “But I am jealous. Can you do that again? Or is this one of those ‘you must wait a thousand years’ spells?”
“No, I can do it again. The spell is simple. It doesn’t require much power. I just need something I can grave—large enough for the pattern, or tools small enough to carve it. I have neither.” She grinned. “If I did it for you now, I’m afraid you’d need to carry something the size of a horse.”
As she spoke, her hand went to her bracelet. Math followed her gaze. The gravings were so delicate and fine that they weren’t easily perceived as writing at all.
“All right,” he said. “Back to being jealous.”
“It would not solve your issue with shaving,” she pointed out.
“No, it wouldn’t. I’d ask if anyone here has something I could use, but all the men here have beards.”
“No razors for shaving, true—but plenty for scraping leather. Not so different. If not, we’ll find something in Lomar.”
“Assuming we can reach Lomar,” he said.
Once dressed, Math turned to her. “Are we going to talk about the wild, rampaging hippopotamus in the room?”
“Which one? I was under the impression we were starting a farm.”
He scoffed. “The ‘what happened with the magic?’ hippopotamus. You said it would take a week. Days, if I helped. It took hours. That’s impossible, right?”
Kai rubbed her chin. “Perhaps it is a side effect of the bond. Or perhaps the poles do not always oppose one another—they might align. Amplify.” She laughed. “Would that not be something? That we are more powerful together?”
“It would indeed.”
It would change everything, too. Everything.
Math didn’t recognize the twist in his chest at first, not until it settled deep and began to grow. Then he did.
It was hope.
They headed north from the camp, away from the volcano. In time, they crossed the train tracks they’d left behind days earlier, though they were now too far west to see the crash site.
They traveled swiftly—not at train speed, but fast enough. The horses weren’t confined to rails, and this breed was hardier than ones back home. The Souna were prepared: each rider had four horses, rotating between them to avoid long rest stops.
It took nearly a week to find Kai’s waystation, and when they did, it didn’t resemble any repository Math had ever seen. There was no fortress or compound. Just a single ruined tower, its top long collapsed and overtaken by generations of roosting birds.
That it still stood was a miracle. So was the expression on Kai’s face—a rare, unguarded smile, something that shimmered through the bond like warm sunlight against his face.
“Wonderful,” she said. “Let us ascertain whether the entrance remains undamaged.”
“Why isn’t anyone using this? You’d think somebody would be here.”
“I should point out that we have not yet investigated,” Kai replied. “Someone might well be within.”
“Cursed,” Oltaxath said.
They turned.
“The place is cursed,” she repeated, matter-of-fact.
“Anyone who dares walk inside dies instantly.” She studied them both.
“You didn’t have me bring you all this way to kill yourselves, did you?
That would be a waste.” She pointed at Math.
“I’m willing to forget you’re Avansi. You married a Souna. Stay with us. You’d be welcome.”
Math didn’t smile. Her words hit harder than she likely intended. You married a Souna. The bond gave a slight, startled pulse—Kai had felt it too.
He wanted to say it wasn’t true—that the bond wasn’t that kind of union—but the protest never made it to his lips. The words felt heavier than denial. Oltaxath was offering safety. A life without hiding.
And he couldn’t take it.
“If we don’t do this,” he said quietly, “a lot of trouble will result. This place—and your people—won’t be immune.”
“What kind of trouble?” another rider asked.
Kai leaned forward in her saddle. “More of the tree women. And their children.”
Oltaxath gave a sharp nod. “That is a danger we understand. Thank you.” She pointed at Math. “For healing my father.” Then at Kai. “For not cursing everyone.”
Kai tilted her head in mock magnanimity. The other riders laughed.
Math dismounted and handed the reins to a Souna. “If it’s not too much trouble, maybe don’t leave just yet? In case this doesn’t work.”
Oltaxath stared flatly. “I repeat: Everyone who dares walk inside dies instantly.”
Math turned to Kai and offered his assistance. “Are we going to walk inside and die instantly?”
“Absolutely not.” She accepted his hand with a faint smile. “I am well versed in disabling traps and unpleasant surprises.”
He nodded toward the Souna. “See? We’ll be fine. Just wait a few hours. If we don’t find what we need, you’ll still be here.”
Oltaxath grumbled but agreed.
The Souna refused to come closer to the tower. They’d stopped at a respectful distance and stayed there, no matter what Kai offered. She, meanwhile, walked to within ten feet of the arched doorway and stood still, hands lifted, eyes closed.
Math didn’t interrupt. He didn’t want to walk inside and die instantly, after all.
Kai hadn’t said Oltaxath was wrong—only that she could handle it.
The air around the tower felt colder. Still. Like the world was holding its breath. Even the birds had gone quiet.
Kai raised one hand, murmured something, then made a precise gesture. The doorway shimmered. Math stared as thin, silvery lines melted from the stone, bleeding away like water across dust.
Gravings, he realized. Protective magic, dissolving under her touch. She made another gesture. Something clicked.
She stepped inside.
A moment later, her head popped out, and she waved cheerfully to the camp.
“Worry not,” she called. “’Tis perfectly safe now.” Then, more thoughtfully: “Though I would avoid touching anything, as a basic precaution.”
“Very reassuring,” Math muttered.
“What we need here requires no theft.”
“Lead on.”
She did.
The interior smelled of damp stone and ash. The Souna, meanwhile, seemed to be settling in for the night. If something went wrong, at least they’d still be nearby.
Kai made a slow circuit of the room, stopped beside an obvious trapdoor, inspected it, then walked back to the entrance.
“We’re fine!” she shouted. “You can go. Thank you again—I am most appreciative. May your ancestors smile upon you.”
The riders waved and called back farewells. They completely ignored her invitation to leave and continued making camp.
Math laughed as they returned to the trapdoor. Kai kneeled and pulled it open.
She looked up at him with a grin. “This next part,” she said, “will be simplicity itself.”