Chapter 15 #3
My stomach tightens. No. That can’t be true.
I’ve healed thousands of soldiers who were attacked by Annwyn warriors and their undead monsters.
It was self-defense, not aggression. But then I wonder, why did the camps always move north, into newly reclaimed territories?
I’ve never seen a map with border lines on it.
I never knew for absolute certainty who’s land we were on.
My breath catches in my chest as doubt creeps through me like a shadow.
Is it possible the corpse wolves aren’t on our land at all? That we are on theirs?
Father scoffs. “The queen’s Wolves can just bring the peasants back to life, if they so please.” Like it’s nothing to kill a child. And, to him, maybe it isn’t.
Tristan’s voice lowers to a growl. “We do not reanimate people.”
At the word “we” father’s arms stiffen against me. The Wolf has finally played the card I knew he’d been hiding—the confession that he isn’t dealing with a sympathizer, but an actual Wolf.
Across the room, Commander Malen stills, his hand reaching for the silver and copper sword that’s ever at his side.
Even with the blood soaking into the neckline of my dress, I feel a small thrill of glee. If my father’s terror is the last thing I see on this earth, then it will be a good death.
Father’s voice shakes. “Guards! Guards!”
They’re slow to respond, not fully comprehending what my father and I both know: Tristan isn’t an ordinary man. He is a Wolf among Foxes.
“You want to know why I was really in your chambers that night?” Tristan says, taking a step toward us. “I was looking for a way to end you.”
The knife slices into my throat as Father leaps away from Tristan. Blood spills over my chest in a hot gush, and I fall to my knees. At the sight of the blood, I try not to let panic take over. I can’t heal myself, and I don’t know what to do.
The guards have reached Tristan now, their bronze swords pulled from their sheathes.
But they don’t do any good, because in an instant, we are all cloaked in a veil of darkness.
The guards shout and I hear scuffling. Someone cries out in agonizing pain and I flinch. The blood loss makes me lightheaded.
Someone pulls me up from the ground and drags me toward a wall, away from the chaos.
For a moment, I’m afraid it’s my father, back to finish the job while cloaked in shadow.
But even though I can’t see him in the darkness, his hands are too careful with me, too gentle to be my father or even a guard. They have to belong to the Wolf.
“Red,” Tristan says. “Red, are you okay?”
With all the blood loss, I can’t tell if I’m losing my grip on reality or if he’s actually concerned about my wellbeing.
“I don’t know,” I whisper back, honestly. At least I can still speak. That has to be a good sign. But when I look down, I’m not so sure I should celebrate yet. My dress front is wet with blood, my hands sticky and trembling.
The guards yell for reinforcements as they bump into furniture, blind in the darkness.
“I can’t heal you,” Tristan says. “What should I do? Where should I take you?”
“Go.” I try to push him away. “You won’t get anywhere with me.”
“I can’t leave you here to die with these monsters.”
A laugh bubbles out of me at the absurdity of that. Us, the Llwyns, being called monsters by a Wolf?
“They’ll heal me as soon as you’re gone.” I shake my head. “But you won’t get far without help.” I slump into him, the blood loss truly weakening me now.
“Red!” His whisper is panicked now. How kind it would be to die next to someone who actually seems to care, even if we’re as good as strangers.
Swords clang in the darkness and a heavy piece of furniture crashes to the ground.
“There’s a cemetery,” I say. “Near the northeast side of the grounds. Find the mausoleum at the pond. I’ll meet you there. I’ll help you reach the borderlands.”
“No. I can carry you. Tell me where to take you—”
“Go!” My voice is raw and the strain makes me cough. The pain in my neck is staggering, and my vision is beginning to blur at the edges. I’m struggling to keep my panic at bay.
Tristan hesitates, but eventually lays me on the ground. “I’ll wait for you.” And then his hands leave me. Moments later, a slight breeze breaks through the chaos from a window that someone threw open. I relax in relief, knowing Tristan got away.
From where I’m lying slumped on the ground, I watch the darkness in the room slowly dissipate.
The Wolf is truly gone. Everything sounds fuzzy in my ears, like an echo of real life.
I’m vaguely aware of the reinforcements arriving as they burst through the chamber doors, swords drawn.
Then Hunter sprints toward me, his face fearful as he draws upon his own healing power to staunch the blood flowing onto the palace floors.
Just before I black out, it strikes me that my father and Commander Malen are nowhere to be seen. Across the room, an innocent-looking tapestry lies on the ground, exposing one of my father’s many secret passageways.