CHAPTER 42 TYCHO
TYCHO
I’m not dead, but there’s a part of me that wishes I were.
It hurts just as much to dig the bolt out of my shoulder this time.
Maybe more, because I’m mostly conscious the whole time— and I told them what Nakiis told me, that any flesh that touched the Iishellasan steel needed to be cut away if we had any hope of healing it.
The king’s wound is worse, from what I hear.
I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen Jax either, but someone tells me they got the bolt out of his abdomen.
I ask if his wound is worse than mine, but no one can tell me.
Then they go to cut away more flesh, and I lose track of time.
A lot of time.
When I finally wake, I think I’m dreaming.
I’m in Jax’s bedroom again, and the space is bright with sunlight.
Nothing is dusty, and the window is unboarded.
We’re sharing his bed, both shirtless, his hair wild and unbound across the pillow.
His body is a warm weight against mine, his cheek pressed into my arm, his breathing slow and even.
But when I lift a hand to stroke it across his cheek, my shoulder aches. I gasp and set my hand back down.
For a moment, I lie there and try to orient myself. The world seems whimsical and not quite real, like perhaps I dreamed all of it, and this is still the first morning after I was shot while galloping away from the Truthbringers on Mercy.
I think of Nakiis, feeling for the familiar flickers of his wind and ice magic in my blood, waiting for a breeze to swirl through the room, all the signs that accompanied the new magic he lent to mine.
But there’s nothing. I knew there’d be nothing. His magic is gone. I knew it the moment we walked out of the barn. I knew it when we faced Xovaar and Karyl and I thought everything was lost.
My throat tightens. Do not grieve yet, he said.
How about now? I want to ask. Can I grieve now?
But no. I have no idea what happened, and as usual, there’s probably still work to be done.
I run a hand down my face. I glance at Jax, but he’s still sound asleep. Is he injured? I have no idea. I’m mostly shocked that he’s alive. I remember the moment the Truthbringers shot those arrows, the way the king plummeted from his horse. The way I dropped from Mercy.
When I move, I expect pain like the last time I was shot, but beyond the ache in my shoulder, there’s none. I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
Even with my motion, Jax doesn’t move, so I look down at him. His breathing is slow and even, so I think he’s fine— but he doesn’t have the magic in his blood that Grey and I have. Would the Truthbringers’ bolts have caused more damage? Or less, since the steel wouldn’t affect him as badly?
I tug at the bedding lightly and discover thick bandages encircling his rib cage, and I swallow.
He twitches a little in his sleep, and I don’t want to disturb him, so I let go, rising to leave the room.
A tunic is strewn over the back of a chair, and I have no idea whose it is, but right now, I don’t care.
I gingerly pull it over my head and make my way through the doorway.
To my complete and absolute shock, Noah is sitting at the little table in Jax’s kitchen. A cup of tea is in front of him, along with a stack of parchment and a kohl pencil. He looks up when I appear in the doorway.
“Hey, kid,” he says softly, giving me his familiar, gentle smile. “It’s good to see you upright.”
I stare at him. “What . . . what are you doing here?”
“I came with Jake.”
My eyebrows go up. “Jake is here, too? What— when—”
“Not now. He had to continue on to the Crystal Palace.” He frowns a little. “When he comes back, you’ll have to ask him for all the details, because we’ve covered a lot of miles in the last few days.”
My thoughts refuse to catch up. “What? But how . . . how are you here?”
“You sent a letter to Ironrose, didn’t you?”
“I sent a letter, but—” I try to count the days in my head, remembering my code, the way I stopped to send a letter after we discovered the dead courier. But my head is still twisted up in knots, and it probably doesn’t matter anyway. “Yeah. I did.”
Noah nods. “Rhen knew your code meant there was a threat against the king— but Grey had already left. He sent a regiment after him, but we weren’t fast enough. We made it here two days after the Queen’s Army seized the Truthbringers.”
There are too many surprises in that statement to process them all. “Two days?” I run a hand across my jaw. I peer at the doorway. “The army is here?”
“Not now. Grey ordered the Emberish army back to Ironrose. Most of them left yesterday.”
Grey. I stare at him. “The king left?”
Noah nods. “He had to.” His voice is grave. “He was in worse shape than you are, but you know their position. He couldn’t afford for rumors to start. There’s been too much insurrection already.”
The sad thing is, I do know their position. I swallow. “How long have I been asleep?”
“You’ve been in and out for about a week.”
That hits me harder than I’m ready for, and spots flare in my vision. I waver unsteadily on my feet.
Noah stands, moving to my side at once. “You should sit down. Do you need me to help you?”
I shake my head, but I don’t resist when he takes hold of my arm and lets me lean against him. For a moment, I just stand there, feeling his steady support.
“I have a thousand more questions,” I eventually say.
He laughs softly. “I’m sure you do.”
“First, I think . . . I think I need to go outside.”
“All right.” He guides me toward the door. The summer heat hits me like a wave, and I inhale deeply. The lane between the forge and the bakery is quiet, and I don’t see anyone at all. I wonder who else is here. Surely it’s not just me, Jax, and Noah.
Then again, Noah said the army was ordered to disperse.
If Grey was wary of rumor and suspicion, maybe it is just us.
My heart twists a little. I remember that moment we were riding in the sunlight, joking a little, how family and friendship and love all seemed to come together in that moment.
How deeply I longed for that. How much I needed it.
The king and queen returned to the palace. They have countries to rule. I have a job to do.
Always work to be done.
“I can walk,” I say to Noah, and he lets me go.
I wander out of the forge and into the soft grass to attend to human
needs. My feet are bare, and now that I’m awake, I realize I’m rather desperately hungry. But I stare up at the sky and walk deeper into the trees, just feeling the air on my skin.
And then I realize what I’m missing: not just Nakiis’s magic. My own.
Well, not entirely. The sparks and stars in my blood are still there. Just . . . muted. Glowing embers instead of the flare off a torch.
I try to draw at it, but it’s sluggish, like the magic has been torn apart. No wonder my shoulder aches so badly.
— Magesmith.
I stop short, my heart leaping to my throat, my hand going for a weapon that’s not even there. I’m barefoot in the woods. I have no bow, no sword, nothing.
But then I find Igaa on a branch overhead, and a moment later, she’s on the ground in front of me.
“Igaa,” I whisper, and against my will, my throat tightens.
In truth, I barely knew Nakiis. We weren’t quite friends, but . . . but we were something. Maybe it’s my exhaustion, but before I’m ready for it, my eyes well.
Igaa steps forward and wraps me up in her arms.
It’s so unexpected that I don’t react for a moment. Nakiis was so wary of me that I didn’t even expect Igaa to come as close as she did. But her arms close around me, and then her wings do the same, until it’s like being cocooned in warmth.
“I’m very sorry I couldn’t save him,” I say softly.
“He did not expect you to save him,” she says. “He knew, Tycho. He knew.”
“Did my magic die with him?” I say. In a way, I hope it did. It seems fitting.
“No,” she says. “But his power was ripped away, after being bound to yours. Your magic is mourning, too.”
That makes my eyes spill over, and I have to let go of her to swipe at my cheeks.
Igaa withdraws, her wings folding back into place. She doesn’t cry, but she says, “Nakiis would lick those tears off your cheeks.”
Her tone is so dryly ironic, just like his, and it makes me laugh, chasing away some of the emotion. “He probably would.” I let my eyes flick up, scanning the trees. “Are you the last one?” I say. “Are you alone?”
“Alone?” Her eyebrows go up. “No. Not everyone followed Xovaar out of the ice forests— nor did they follow him here.” She pauses.
“Nakiis was not the only one who was wary of magesmiths.” She scoffs under her breath.
“If Xovaar had been less arrogant, Nakiis could have warned him of the dangers of allying with that woman.”
“Why did he ally with her at all? He had to know she couldn’t really give him back his magic.”
“Oh, he certainly knew,” says Igaa. “He likely intended to kill her from the very beginning. Xovaar and Karyl were not dissimilar. They both intended to double- cross the other. I simply don’t think he was prepared for the agony that sharing his magic would cause.”
Agony. The word nearly makes me flinch. But then I realize something else. “Xovaar was able to kill Karyl. Why didn’t Nakiis kill Lilith?”
“Oh, Lilith was far more powerful— a born magesmith. Nakiis couldn’t come close. Karyl was new.”
I remember watching it happen, the way the scraver launched himself at Karyl, destroying himself in the process. “He had to know they would shoot him,” I say. “He had to know.”
“Oh, it was likely tormenting him,” Igaa says. “Especially once he heard the truth in your words. Nakiis once said having your magic bound to another was like having your very being ripped away, over and over again, day by day.”
My breath catches, because I understand that. Probably better than anyone. “Igaa— I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to—”
She puts a hand out, against my chest, over my heart. “Tycho. Nakiis knew.” She pauses, her voice quieting. “Truly. He knew. He had numerous opportunities to share his magic with Callyn or the queen. But he said if anyone would understand the cost, you would. Only you.”
That makes my chest ache, while simultaneously settling something inside me. I put a hand over hers, holding it over my heart. “Thank you.”
She nods.
I let her go. “Where will you go?” I say. “Will you return to Iishellasa?”
She nods, then sighs. “For now. There is so much fear, so much misinformation.” But then her eyes brighten. “Though I have spoken to your queen. In time, we will discuss a way for us to travel through your lands without fear and hostility.”
“That sounds like Lia Mara.”
Igaa smiles, and her fangs make it more terrifying than it is friendly. “I like your queen.”
“I do too.”
Her wings flare, and she leaps into the air. No goodbye, no parting words, nothing.
Then again, Nakiis was never one for goodbyes either.
When I turn around to head back to the forge, Jax is waiting there by the corner, leaning against the tethering post. His hair is still loose, hanging over one shoulder, shining in the sun.
Even with his ribs tightly bandaged and a little beard growth coating his jaw, he’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
“How long have you been there?” I say.
“Long enough. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
I stop in front of him, my eyes flicking up and down his form. “Are you badly injured?”
“No more than usual.”
That probably shouldn’t make me laugh, but it does, and then somehow it turns into a broken sound. Jax wraps his arms around me, and for the second time in five minutes, I find myself crying against someone while they hold me.
At least Jax won’t talk about licking the tears off my cheeks.
But eventually my sorrow eases, and I rest my head against his shoulder and feel him breathe for a while.
I’m still hungry, and I still have a million questions, but I don’t really care.
After the last few weeks, I think I could stand here in the summer warmth with Jax for a year and be quite content.
“I’m assuming you haven’t been asleep for a week,” I murmur.
“No,” he says. “I’ve been watching over you.”
That makes me flush and shiver simultaneously. “So you’ve met Noah.”
“He’d be hard to miss, staying in my house.”
I smile against his shoulder.
“I like him,” he adds.
“I knew you would. Noah is wonderful.”
“And as fierce as a lion,” he says, with a hint of awe in his voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stand up to the king like that—”
I lift my head. “Noah stood up to the king?”
“Yes. Why else do you think he left you here?”
My head thrums. Too much has happened, and I can’t make sense of any of this. “What did he say?”
From the doorway, Noah calls out to us. “Tycho. If you’re going to be up and around, you really should eat something.”
Jax takes my hand. “Come on. There’s a cow again, and some chickens. We have eggs.”
I stare at him. “We do?” I clear my throat and shake my head. “Jax— what happened between Noah and Grey?”
“He said you had been through too much these last few months. He said you should be allowed to heal, without feeling the pressures of the palace or the nobility.” Jax’s hazel- green eyes search mine. “And then he said you should be allowed to choose your fate.”
There was a time when this would have left me unmoored. I would have gone searching for my horse and ridden off to the Crystal Palace right this instant, because I’d be so worried I was making the wrong choice. That I was disappointing Grey.
But for the first time, my heart is steady. I don’t feel an urge to rush anywhere.
I give his hand a tug, but it makes my shoulder ache, and I wince. Jax follows me anyway.
After a moment, I look over, because I am still curious.
“What did Grey say?” I ask. “When Noah made all these demands?”
Jax grins. “He gave me a bag of silver and said, ‘Lord Jax, I commit him to your care.’ ”