CHAPTER 84
When Tyghan walked into the treatment tent, Eris was sitting beside Madame Chastain’s body.
He held her hand. She was covered in a blanket, up to her shoulders, that hid her fatal injuries.
Her silver hair fell in soft waves around her face, and her expression was peaceful. She could have been sleeping.
It was still hard for Tyghan to believe she was dead.
She was badly injured when he and Eris got her to Olivia, but the High Witch was powerful and strong, with an incredible will.
Larger than life and bigger than death, he had always thought.
She’d been a constant in his life since he was a child, and he couldn’t imagine anything overcoming her.
Tyghan’s eyes stung. Too much was happening too fast.
“He’s been like that for two hours,” Olivia whispered to him. “I healed the wound on his shoulder, but his heart . . .” She shook her head, her skin splotched from tears. Madame Chastain had been her mentor and friend. “Injured are still coming in. I need to get back to help Esmee.”
Tyghan nodded. “I’ll take care of him.”
He stepped over to Eris and squeezed his shoulder. Eris didn’t look up, continuing to skim his thumb over the back of Dahlia’s hand. “Five minutes,” he finally said. “She asked me for five minutes, and I wouldn’t give it to her. I clung to my hurt pride instead.”
“You couldn’t know—”
“I had five minutes to spare. Everyone has five minutes to spare for someone they love.” He leaned forward, holding her hand to his lips, and sobbed.
Tyghan’s lungs burned. He remembered Eris pulling him into his robes after his mother died, when it was too hard for him to be brave. When you can’t be strong, I’ll be strong for you.
He gently pulled Madame Chastain’s hand from Eris’s and laid it across her chest. “I promise, she will be taken care of properly, with all the honors she deserves.” He tugged on Eris’s arm, nudging him to his feet. “Come on, Counselor. Let’s go home.”
Once Eris was settled in his quarters back at the palace, Tyghan went to Julia’s room, where Bristol and her squad were staying.
Bristol came to the door, but he wasn’t invited in.
She came out into the hallway, a large bandage on her shoulder.
Kormick could have killed her, even in her beast form.
Time seemed to pause—a stubborn space slipping between them.
Fuck space, he thought, and he gently nudged her into his arms. She melted into him. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head. “I can’t talk about what happened. Not now.” She pushed back to look into his face. “But I want a funeral for them. I want their bodies and a place where they can rest together.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.”
Her expression hardened then, like she was bracing herself. “Did you see me?” she asked.
He knew what she meant. “Only as you flew back to the Mother Ring,” he answered.
Flew. The word hit him in his gut. The reality.
“What do you think?”
He had been frightened. Not of her, but for her. From the first time he saw the scales on her back, he had wondered. It wasn’t until he saw Bristol shift in the sky that his suspicions were confirmed. “I think you saved Danu. I think you’re the queen of Elphame.”
“That’s not what I meant. What do you think of me?”
“I think you’re Bristol Keats, the woman I love.”