Chapter 20 #2
“She’s right.” Tolek scooted back to recline against a tree, and I could only look at his wounded leg.
“I’m healing. Jezebel was hardly injured.
Rina and Cyph will return with supplies, and we’ll be on our way.
As a group.” With that, he pulled his journal from his bag and disappeared into its pages.
It sounded so simple coming from their lips, but I could not let go of the piece of me that wanted to jump in front of my friends at any hint of danger.
The hours dragged with the three of us sitting in our small circle under the cypher trees. At each shuffle within the grasses, I jumped to my feet, hoping to see Cypherion and Rina returning, but it was never them.
I continued to tie my knots, practicing for Spirits knew what, as Tolek and Jezebel argued over every Angel-sent topic they could think of. Currently they debated which bread was the softest, adding tallies of how much they suspected our friends would bring back.
“Maybe they’ll find lemon cookies for you,” Jezebel prodded, but I only nodded. Though I was not engaging in their conversation, their voices calmed my nerves. It was a hint of normalcy in this unusual journey.
From where she stood beneath the cyphers, Sapphire whinnied. I set my rope aside and moved to my horse. “What is it, girl?” I whispered, running a hand down her mane, carefully picking fallen leaves from where they’d gotten tangled.
They were crisp and brown in my hand, crinkling to pieces beneath my touch. I looked up, branches spotted with bare patches staring down at me. Odd, I thought, as I untangled the rest.
Sapphire’s energy was anxious—it swarmed between us. “We’ll be moving soon, don’t worry,” I muttered, brushing her until she settled. I was glad we had not decided to stay in Turren for the evening.
Finally, when the sun had passed its highest peak in the sky and started crawling back down, I couldn’t take another second of waiting.
“Something’s happened,” I growled, swiping up Starfire from the ground. “I’m going in after them. Jez, stay and watch over Tol.”
“Oh, hell Spirits,” Tol grumbled from where he was handing small pieces of fruit up to Astania. I ignored his eye roll.
Jezebel ran to me, gripping my wrist over the spot where the Curse hid, pain shooting up my arm.
I wrenched it from her grasp with a grimace, but she shouted, “Wait!” I followed her eyes down the hill to where two shadows moved among the grasses.
The sun reflected off of Cypherion’s auburn hair, and I slumped against Jezebel as a weight left my chest.
“Thank the Spirits,” I mumbled.
“Are they back?” Tolek called, not even bothering to crawl toward us.
“They’re back,” Jezebel answered. Though she had acted unaffected by their extended absence, I heard a hint of relief in her voice.
I paced circles around Tolek, left hand rubbing the place where the Curse burrowed into my wrist, until Rina and Cyph reached us. They slumped to the ground, the weight of their journey pressing down on them. The tight set of their mouths and aversion of their eyes stopped my movements.
“What’s happened?” I asked, looking between the two of them.
“Did you bring food?” Jezebel asked, digging into their packs and pulling out a piece of dried meat. She released a sigh as she bit into it.
“Something’s wrong.” I didn’t say it as a question.
Cypherion distributed food to the group—sure enough, handing me an iced cookie that smelled of citrus—but I merely twirled it between my fingers, too nervous to eat.
Santorina threw Tolek a small jar of something yellow and fresh bandages. “Put that on your leg, and then I’ll rewrap it for you.” She stretched her arms over her head, rolling her shoulders. Her pack must be heavy. Good.
“You are an Angel, Santorina Cordelian,” Tol gushed, doing as she instructed.
“We know that took longer than planned,” Rina said, sitting down. “But we have good reason.”
“Were you noticed?” Tolek asked, hands freezing as he unwrapped his soiled bandages.
Cypherion shook his head. “Nothing like that. We got supplies quickly and would have been back an hour ago, but we overheard something.” He exchanged a glance with Santorina.
She nodded for him to continue. “There’s a tavern right by the entrance to the market, and a group of warriors were surrounding it, drinking ale, gossiping. ”
“And?” I pressed, knowing the early hour of their indulgence would not be cause to linger in a town where you had committed theft.
“We overheard them talking, and the things they were saying…” Rina’s words cut off with a shiver.
“There’s unrest,” Cypherion explained. “People are suffering even worse outside of Palerman than we knew. Turren is one of the only towns where the market has been steady, and that’s solely thanks to their position near the Solistine River.
Most lost so many in the war that they can barely keep their families fed and clothed. ”
I sank to the ground, holding my head in my hands as he continued, “They’re growing tired of it. There’s talk of rebellion against the Revered.”
“The Revered?” Tolek asked. He and I exchanged a nervous glance, the echoes of our encounter with Lucidius on my birthday coming to the forefront of my mind. He had not seemed concerned.
Cypherion nodded. “They think he should be doing more to help those hurting.”
“We spread all of our goods throughout Palerman,” Jezebel argued, but I knew from her slackened shoulders that she understood it wasn’t enough.
“Palerman is not the only Mystique town,” I deadpanned.
Unrest. Starvation. Rebellion. These were not things I felt equipped to face, nor were they things I had time to consider now. But my mind—my responsibility to my people—would not let me forget it.
“We will have to do more,” I said. “We’ll send food to other towns, too.
We’ll talk to Father when we return home and have him send word to the Revered.
We will fix this.” The promise etched itself into my brain alongside Damien’s prophecy.
Perhaps it was all connected, and this journey truly would guide me to save the Mystiques who suffered.
If it did not, I’d see to it myself with every hour the Curse spared me.
They all nodded in agreement.
“There’s more,” Rina said, and my heart sank. How could there be more? “The oldest of the warriors—they had to be nearly five centuries old—they kept saying that they felt a shift coming. Like something was building in the atmosphere, waiting to combust.”
A veil of unease fell across our group as her words sank in. “They did not say what?” Tolek asked, leaning forward.
Rina and Cyph shook their heads in unison, the former explaining, “No, but it was ominous. The way they spoke about it brought a trickle of something cold and terrifying slinking through the air. Like whatever it was, it was already here.”
“They spoke of their ancestors, claiming tales from those who had felt it before. But it all sounded like fables to me.” Cypherion did his best to sound reassuring, but his hands clenched at his sides.
I inhaled, holding the breath in my lungs for as long as possible before letting it hiss through my teeth.
I was not sure what any of this new information meant for me, how it tied into the path I had carved out for myself.
A slinking tendril of the affliction in my blood stretched out, curling itself around a vein with a tug.
I had a sinking feeling that I’d find out.