Chapter 44
Maeve.
Mal’s voice rang out across her slumbering mind. Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a sharp breath. Maxius lay asleep beside her, undisturbed with even breaths. She cast a protective enchantment over him as Mal called her name once more.
Maeve pushed up out of bed and ran. She flew down the North Tower of Castle Morana, the grand spiraling staircase winding and winding down into the castle.
Mal stood in the Entrance Hall. His knees hit the stone tile and his head bowed. His Magic flickered and faded.
Maeve slid before him and grabbed his face at once, angling it up towards her. He was barely conscious.
“Mal,” she said, panic flooding her voice.
He did not react. His skin was freezing against her palms. She rubbed her thumbs along his sharp cheekbones.
Mal , she said into his mind.
A heavy breath rose in his chest. With a gasp, his eyes opened to her.
“Hey,” she said soothingly. “I’m here.”
The whites of his eyes ran red. There was nothing in them but exhaustion. She had never felt his Magic so dull. She continued to stroke his face and pretend to be calm.
He needed her to be strong. And for him, she would be. But her insides were slipping further and further into fear.
“Have you called for Astrea?” She asked quickly.
He gave a small nod, and his eyes closed once more.
His body fell towards her, collapsing completely against her.
She supported him, cradling his head against her. Her heartbeat skyrocketed.
He was breathing.
He was alive.
But he was hurting. And she could feel it all. He was not slumbering. His body tensed and jerked in her arms. His face twisted in agony.
She slipped into his mind with ease.
Damnit, Mal , she whispered. You cannot do this to yourself. Your shields are completely gone. Anyone can access your mind with such vulnerability.
There came no reply. His mind lay blank.
She pressed further, searching for some indication of what caused him to be so paralyzed. There was nothing of his travels that night. No sign of anything past the gates of Castle Morana in the hours prior.
There was nothing but darkness, even then.
Maeve pulled from his mind. She held him tighter, placing her lips on his forehead.
“Please,” she said softly. “I cannot lose you. Please let me help you fight this darkness. I never intended for you to carry this burden alone.”
A dim flickering of light grew brighter from the West corridor. A moment later, Abraxas appeared. His silver hair was perfect despite the late hour. His deep emerald robe shimmered against the candlelight in his outstretched arm as he crossed towards them.
“Is he alright, cousin?” He asked, kneeling beside her and examining Mal keenly.
Maeve nodded, her head still pressed against the top of his. “You have to talk sense into him, Brax.”
Abraxas’ face saddened.
“He won’t listen to me,” she continued.
“He wants to protect you, Maeve,” said Abraxas gently.
“And who is protecting him?” She fired back. “How are we supposed to accept this new world if it tears him apart to get it?”
Abraxas placed his hand along her arm in sympathy. “I know, Maeve. I will do better as the Hand. I promise.”
The Entrance Hall doors creaked open, sending pale green light across the dark hall. Astrea stepped inside without hesitation and briskly walked towards them, her robe trailing behind her.
Maeve pulled Mal tighter against her chest.
Astrea’s eyes closed in frustration as a lengthy exhale blew from her lips. Mal lay on his chamber bed, still tormented by the Magic keeping him unconscious.
“If you can’t do it just say so,” said Maeve.
Astrea’s hand tensed and her eyes opened, but she did not look at Maeve. She looked at Abraxas.
“Astrea,” said Abraxas. “There is no shame in needing assistance. Call upon your mother.”
Astrea didn’t argue. She nodded at Abraxas and left the room without so much as a glance at Maeve.
Maeve’s eyes never left Mal in the time it took Astrea to get to The Towers and wake her mother, Irma. She brushed her fingers along his cheek, softly petting his raven hair. Her chest caught each time his face contorted in pain.
Irma arrived, and Maeve watched her fail at waking their Dread Prince.
“This is dark,” said Irma with a small shiver as she removed her healing hands from him. “Far darker than Magic I would care to know.”
Alphard and Astrea’s mother shook her fingers out and looked to Maeve.
“You should see for yourself,” she said.
“I can feel it,” said Maeve as she looked back over Mal.
Irma nodded. “Like calls to like.”
Maeve took Mal’s hand in her own. “Perhaps I can try.”
“I’m not certain that’s wise,” said Abraxas tensely.
“On the contrary,” began Irma, “I believe the Magic will respond well to Maeve’s commands.”
“Why?” Questioned Abraxas.
Irma responded, “they are bonded.”
“When I looked into his mind,” began Maeve, “there was only darkness. Less than darkness. There was nothing but a feeling of. . .dread.”
Irma nodded. “Call it to you. That thing which you feel that sits dark and deep in him, that which is keeping him closed from us, call it.”
Maeve held Mal’s hand tighter and shifted forward beside him. She took his Dread Locket in the other hand and closed her eyes.
His chambers vanished along with Abraxas’ argumentative voice, and she was in his mind once more. The darkness held not even a glimmer of refraction.
She felt that darkness swell around her, feeling out her presence. She was not welcome there.
Mal , she called across his mind.
Something stirred for a brief moment, a glimpse of his Magic reached towards her.
Maeve , his voice distorted by another, called back.
She felt that sinister darkness slither around her.
Come to me, Mal, she called again, sending more of her Magic out.
He responded stronger this time, surging towards her. The darkness in his mind slashed out, severing the bond between her Magic and Mal’s.
Maeve struck without thinking, allowing her anger and desire to protect Mal surge through her. Her Magic choked the darkness, which shattered instantly.
Light flooded the void around her. Images of Mal’s past few hours flew through her mind, too fast to understand or comprehend. But she knew one thing: he was putting himself in too much danger.
And the darkness she severed was but a fraction of what he would need to take on to fully vanquish the blight in the land.
The floor beneath her grew soft, as Mal’s strength surged to life. She pulled from his mind, spiraling back towards his chambers at Castle Morana.
He was awake, sitting upright, and breathing heavily with both his hands on her face. The whites of his eyes slowly returned, and his skin flushed with color.
Irma and Astrea stood on the other side of the bed. Abraxas kept his distance.
“You’re alright,” said Maeve, reassuringly.
His eyes scanned over her face, down her shaking body and back up at her eyes. “Are you?” He asked with desperation.
She nodded in his grip. “I am now.”
She pushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands slid around her as she cried, “you cannot carry this burden alone.”
His hand stroked the back of her head. “I cannot bear to see you take it.”
Maeve held him tightly, her breaths stuck in her chest.
“Breathe,” he said softly. “I am here.”
They held one another silently. Irma spoke gently a moment later.
“I am sorry, my Prince. I could not wake you. It was I who encouraged her to try.”
Mal didn’t move. “It’s alright, Irma,” he said softly.
Maeve clung to him, relishing the steady breaths in his chest, intoxicated by his returned Magic. Mal did not move her.
“It’s late,” he said. “Thank you Irma. And you Astrea, for your devotion.”
Abraxas repeated Mal’s thanks as they left the room.
“My Prince,” said Abraxas, with his fist over his heart. His footsteps receded as the door shut behind him.
“Maeve,” said Mal smoothly.
She shook and lifted her head. “What is that thing?”
“What thing?”
“That thing in your mind. I’ve felt it before. I know it.”
“Please, Maeve,” he said weakly. “I don’t want a lecture. Just let me hold you and-”
“No,” she fired back. “No. I thought I was going to lose you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Not this time. But are you going to stop?”
Mal did not answer.
“You cannot bear for me to carry the burden, and I cannot bear to lose you for it.”
“You are not going to lose me. There is Magic on our side. It is prophesied that I will restore these lands. It is written in Magic across us both that I will die before you. I swore it.” He stroked her face. “I will not die in this battle. I can feel it.”
Maeve ran her hands over his. “There are worse fates than death.”
Mal didn’t reply further. He pulled her close, and she accepted his affection without argument.