Chapter 50
Huntyr
“You should rest,” Kaia says gently.
I glance at Tyla asleep in the bed, sweat visible across her brow even as I pace several feet away. Derian had no explanation for what caused her sickness; he just helped me get her back into bed and left with a promise to try and learn more.
I think I’ll have nightmares about last night for the rest of my life.
I’ve never seen anything like it.
I never want to see anything like it again.
“I can’t.”
Sitting down means giving myself the space to feel all of the pain, worry, and despair that’s trying to punch into me. I can’t do that. I need to stay rational, logical, strategic. I need to make a plan.
“You’ve been pacing for nearly an hour, Huntyr.”
“What good is Fae magic if it can’t heal her?”
Kaia blinks, tilting her head slightly. “There is no magic in any realm that is strong enough to fight death.”
I whirl towards her. “Do not say that! She is not going to die!”
Before Kaia can respond, Tyla stirs, her head twisting back and forth slightly.
“I know,” she mutters in her sleep. “I see now, Mother.”
Rushing to her side, I dip my hands into the bucket of cold water beside the bed and place the rag inside gently against her brow, brushing aside her sweat-drenched hair as I do.
“Was she close with her mother?” Kaia asks, settling next to Tyla protectively.
“I don’t know. Tyla was young when her parents died, but she’s been talking to her mother in her dreams all night.”
Kaia turns to the door sharply, ears twitching as she listens to the conversation taking place in the hallway outside our door, too quiet for me to be able to make out.
“The prince has been offered an alternative.”
My stomach leaps and I jump to my feet, dropping the rag back into the bucket and pushing out of the room to where Derian, Cal, and Taric stand in a tight circle, whispering softly.
Derian doesn’t turn to face me right away.
His hands are tucked in his pockets, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed and considering.
His friends look just as grim, both with arms crossed over their chests and eyes locked on the wooden floor at their feet.
“What is it?” I demand, unflinching, as the three warriors all look at me in surprise.
“Lachlan,” Cal says softly. “You should be with Tyla. We’ll get you if we think of anything.”
I look at each of them, taking in the soft blush on Cal’s face, the worried lines on Derian’s forehead, the tension in Taric’s shoulders. Cal steps forward as if to cajole me back inside the room, and I step aside, moving out of his way and completely ignoring the hand Derian extends towards me.
“You’ve already thought of something.” I level my gaze on Taric, the warrior who won’t meet my gaze.
Out of our group, he’s likely the most dangerous of all of us. He has the rarest wielding power of all the Fae. It’s what helped him win a Conclave in mere minutes. If he wanted to, he could stop my blood from flowing and kill me in an instant. But I stare at him without any fear.
My sister’s life is on the line, and if he has information that can save her, I will get it out of him.
His eyes flash to me and then flick away. “Back in Oxhurn, there’s someone I know—”
“Taric,” Cal warns, his tone laced with a threat.
I glare at him over my shoulder, fingers twitching towards the knife on my belt. Whatever he saw on my face was enough to motivate him to sigh and wave a hand for Taric to continue.
“He’s a healer,” Taric explains, running a hand through his already messy hair. “But he’s a bit non-traditional. He doesn’t exactly follow typical Fae healing methods, and he’s gotten into some trouble for it. I’ve seen him get results where others haven’t, though.”
“Then we go to him,” I announce. I don’t care if it’s against every Fae law in the book. They can lock me away when we’re done, as long as Tyla is healed and okay.
“It’s not that simple,” Cal protests. “People like this also have unpredictable results. He could cause as much damage as he brings healing.”
How much worse could it get?
“She’s already dying,” I remind him.
“It’s a bad idea, Lachlan.”
“And it’s not your call to make!”
Cal and I stare each other down before we both turn to Derian in unison. He is the prince. He is the leader. He makes the decision, and so help me if he doesn’t make the right one…
Derian’s attention on me is a tangible weight. He stares at me, unblinking, his face entirely unreadable as he leans back on the wall behind him.
“Luceron is supposed to be arriving soon,” he finally says softly.
I force down the bile that rises in my throat. So it was to be his brother over my sister then?
“Luceron is taking the long way,” Taric reminds him. “We have time.”
Time to go all the way back to the fort in Oxhurn and return here? Perhaps, but it would be a close call. It would depend on how long his brother stopped at the towns and villages along the way. It was very possible we wouldn’t make it back in time.
I know how important it is for Derian to see his brother. I know how uneasy he feels about Luceron traveling so far from the protected walls of his capital city. Derian won’t be able to fully relax until he is with Luceron and able to protect him himself.
Tyla is already in trouble though, and I have to protect her as fiercely as he would protect Luceron.
“I’ll go alone,” I tell him, not an offering, but a warning.
We stare at each other, Taric and Cal nothing more than figures in the background.
Derian sighs heavily, the motion causing his shoulders to sink at least an inch.
“I know you will, Huntress, and you know I won’t let you.”
It’s decided then.
“We leave at first light,” I decree, and I don’t give them a moment to say anything else before I stride past the three of them and return to Tyla’s side.
The journey back to Oxhurn is painful. With Tyla now being pulled along in a cart, we stick to established roads and sleep in various inns along the way. It nearly doubles the duration of the journey, and every moment is like agony.
I watch her like a hawk, analyzing her every breath.
She doesn’t get sick again. In fact, by the time we’re halfway through the journey, she’s even sitting up and teasing Taric.
Kaia has taken a particular affinity for her, even staying by her side in the evenings while I steal away to practice magic with Derian for a few hours.
He’s a surprisingly gracious instructor.
His mentorship is clear and well thought-out, and he’s patient when I get frustrated at my own inability to control the blinding light the way I want to.
After a few sessions, I manage to summon sparks to the tips of my fingers at will.
It’s hardly going to do anything more than provide a dim light in a shadowed alley, but it’s better than nothing.
When I first managed that tiny glow at my fingertips, we were standing in the courtyard behind an inn we stayed at along the way.
I’d been so ridiculously happy that I’d squealed, and Derian had looked at me with such unabashed pride that my stomach had flipped and my blood had heated.
He’d been sharing a room with Cal and I’d been sharing a room with Tyla, so I’d pulled him into a nearby alley and demanded to be rewarded for my progress.
He was extremely generous with his praise.
He’s begun teaching me basic magics, too, just enough that I’m able to heal the muscles in my legs that grow sore after too many days on horseback. As much as I’m still warming up to the idea of Fae magic, that is one particular skill I’m grateful to have.
Finally though, after what feels like an eternity, I spot the stone archway that leads through to the fortress of Oxhurn.
My blood runs cold, despite the sudden feeling of sweat on the back of my neck, and I slow my horse, hardly noticing as our party continues on without me.
I can’t seem to look away from that archway.
I didn’t expect to be so affected by this place.
But there it is. The sudden rush of disgust, a strange mixture of rage, pain, and anxiety.
Nothing good lies beyond that archway. There’s only the arena where Seraphina beat me, the training yard where Mara attacked me, the wing of the barracks that is now empty because the women who slept there are now dead.
There’s a gentle touch on my lower back as Derian brings his horse flush with mine.
“We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to,” he tells me, reading over the expression on my face. “We can get a tonic and be on our way back to Springhallow before the day's end.”
I work my jaw, watching as Taric’s horse pulls my sister's cart through that archway and towards the fortress that lays beyond.
Kaia is with her. I remind myself. Kaia will keep her safe while we’re here.
“The horses need time to rest.” I exhale a heavy, uncomfortable sigh. “We all do. Cal will want to check on the fort while we’re here, and Ulna hasn’t been sleeping well in the inns.”
I feel his attention on me and work to steady my breathing. I work to look as unaffected as I wish I was.
“You’re right,” he admits. “But my statement stands. Say the word and we leave.”
It’s just a stone archway. It’s just patches of dirt and worn ground. It’s just a place. I am the one who lived through it. I will survive this place and the memories that hide within it.
“I can’t just avoid Oxhurn, Derian. I’m the Conclave winner. The Fae will expect me to be strong.”
“The Fae will respect their princess regardless and keep their mouths shut about it if they know what’s good for them.”
A ghost of a smile plays on my lips. Such an overprotective worrywart he’s become. With one more deep breath in and out, I press my heel into the side of my horse and begin trotting forward as Derian keeps pace beside me.
“If we’re going to fight the Mother, this is the most strategic place to do so. Nowhere else in the Fae kingdom is this close to the Wastelands.”
Derian is quiet for a moment, his fingers tightening on his reins as we walk under that archway. “I have to admit, Huntress, I’m not particularly thrilled with this plan of yours.”
We’d discussed it during one of the nights of the trip. I’d gotten him properly drunk on wine and my body before I’d laid it out for him.
Once we get Tyla the tonic and we’re sure she is well again, we’ll travel back to Springhallow. Then we’ll meet Derian’s brother, go through with whatever ridiculous wedding celebration has to take place, then tell everyone we’re taking a very private celebratory trip just the two of us.
Which won’t necessarily be a lie.
We will be taking a trip, just the two of us, into the Wastelands.
“If your brother loves you as fiercely as I love Tyla, he’s not going to let you go after the Mother.”
“My brother is the King, yes, but I have a habit of disregarding his instructions.”
I snort. The Conclave was a perfect example of that.
“Still. I don’t want Tyla worrying about me, and I know you don’t want Cal or Taric volunteering to come with us. You’re the most powerful Fae alive, Derian, and I, apparently, am the only one capable of killing Velkai with magic. There’s no reason for us to drag anyone else into this with us.”
He might have said something else to me, but my attention is already locked in somewhere else.
In the center of the training yard, my sister is standing, flanked on each side by Taric and Cal, Kaia seated directly in front of her, as a group of the fortress warriors come to examine her.
I can’t even be concerned by the warriors though.
All I can think about is the fact that she’s standing.
“She’s steady,” I muse aloud to Derian.
He’s watching her with the same intensity. He nods at me silently before dismounting his horse. I follow.
“Tyla,” I call to her, walking quickly to join her. “Are you okay?”
When I reach her side, Taric and Cal leave to greet their friends and inspect the fortress. Derian follows, but I know him well enough to know his attention still lingers on my sister and I.
I place a hand on her elbow, marveling at the way she’s standing tall, shoulders back, her head held high. Well-balanced, too. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her so steady on her feet.
“I am.” She gives me a soft smile. “I’m glad to be done riding for a while.”
“She seems better,” Kaia notes. “Over the last day or so, she’s gotten progressively stronger.”
Sure enough, it looks like the dark veins on her neck are subsiding ever so slightly. A kernel of hope blooms inside me.
“Is it possible the tonic’s effects were just delayed?”
Kaia sniffs Tyla's feet before flicking her tail. “Perhaps another night of rest to decide.”
Right. That was reasonable enough. It’s early afternoon already. We could all use a bath and some food. I, for one, would appreciate some actual sparring after feeling trapped on a horse for so long.
We’ll spend the night here and decide in the morning if the tonic has worked after all.
“It’s possible though, don't you think?”
Kaia looks at me, ears flicking. “It would seem so.”
I even catch the faintest amount of hope in her voice, too.
“Come on,” I throw my arm around Tyla’s shoulder, sending her a happy grin. “Let’s get you inside.”
Tyla walks with me, a gentle smile on her own face. The cloak I’ve given her drags on the ground at our feet. She’s only a hair shorter than me, but she’s so thin that it falls an inch too long. I make a mental note to have it laundered while she bathes.
My arm rips back suddenly as Tyla stops short, digging her heels into the dirt beneath our feet and swinging wildly to the left, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Did you hear that?”
Tyla is standing stiff as a board, eyes locked on something in the distance, brow furrowed in what appears to be confusion. I blink, first at her, then at Kaia, who looks just as confused as I am.
“Hear what?”
She tilts her head, and for a moment it’s as if even though she’s standing right next to me, she’s suddenly somewhere else entirely. But then she shakes her head, and her distant gaze focuses back on me. “You didn’t hear a voice?”
Derian stands at the pathway towards the barracks, waiting with his arms crossed over his chest. He only shrugs when I look to him for help.
“I didn’t hear anything, Tyla. You’re probably just tired from the journey. Come, let’s get inside.”
She’s still for a moment, considering, before she finally nods and starts walking again. Her steps are slower now, and she keeps glancing suspiciously over her shoulder.
“What’s over there, Huntyr?” she asks.
Derian stiffens as we reach him, and he falls into step behind us.
“The Wastelands,” he mutters.