Chapter 4 #3
“I’ll meet you all soon,” I say, then take off running.
Steps sound beside me. “Marlak, where are you going?” It’s Lidiane.
I narrow my eyes and slow my pace, but don’t bother stopping. “Oh, we share information now? I wasn’t aware.”
“Is it Astra?” she asks, still breathless, running.
“Yes, but she’s not in the Shadow Lands.”
“Where is she?”
“Didn’t you say you could sense Azur? If he needs you, I suppose he can contact you.”
“Fine,” she mutters, her eyes infinitely sad. She then stops and stays behind.
Had this been any other day, I’d explain the situation better to her, but now I need to get to Astra, and my own heart is already overflowing with sorrow, voicing its anguish with furious, fast beats.
The sound of water reaches my ears, and I dash to a stream and jump in it, then plead to the Nymphs to take me in their flow, to take me to that island on the Crossing River.
There’s something wrong with Astra, and even if it’s not the same fear and desperation I felt when she was attacked, she’s in distress, perhaps in pain—and calling me. I can hear her.
For long, tortuous seconds, I’m immersed in that shallow stream, my booted feet touching the bottom, my skin prickling with anxiety, wondering if there’s any nymph activity here, if they can take me where I need, hoping to reach Astra before anything bad happens to her.
“Please,” I mouth, hoping they can transcend me in their currents, dreading each and every second I have to wait, each and every second Astra’s call goes unanswered.
I have an agreement with the nymphs, but in a time like this, when fear coats my skin and chills my bones, I wonder if they’ll change their mind and leave me here drowning in my desperation to reach my wife.
Or maybe I should try to find a larger river. Who knows how long it will take me to get there? Who knows if I’ll reach her in time?
Right as hope is about to leave me, the water around me shifts and a current of magic pulls me into a swirl. I’m spinning like my mind, traveling through water, transcended by the nymphs.
When the swirl stops, I’m at the Crossing River. Behind me, I see the island where I camped with Astra not so long ago. And I also see her, crouched, moonlight illuminating her hair, making it look purple.
I don’t know how I breach the distance between us, all I know is that I have my arms around her, feeling her chest against mine.
She leans her soft face on my chest. “You came.”
I squeeze her tight, wishing I could never let her go. “Did you have any doubts?”
Astra also hugs me tighter, her head still buried in my chest. As I look at her, I realize it’s her hair that’s purple, so much like my dreams. I hold her like that for a moment, then place a hand under her chin, moving her head so that I can face her.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her eyes wide, distress written on her face.
She has no apparent wounds, and yet she doesn’t look well.
At least the danger is not imminent, and for that I’m relieved, even if I’m still worried.
I’m so happy to see her alive that I could kiss her until eternity, but when I touch her lips, she recoils, covers her mouth, and shakes her head.
“Disgusting,” she mumbles.
I shouldn’t feel hurt, upset, or rejected, and yet her words sting. I put my hands around my mouth to check if I have bad breath, but she slaps them.
“Me,” she says. “My mouth’s the most disgusting thing in the world.”
“Never.” I pinch her chin and move to kiss her, but she recoils and points at something on the ground, beside us.
There’s a pool of something—vomit. All right. I can see her point, even if I’d still kiss her.
And there’s a man—Azur—lying down, his long blond hair spread around him. For a moment, I wonder if he’s dead, but then I notice he’s looking at us, mild curiosity in his blue eyes.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask Astra.
“No, but he’s wounded.”
I frown. “Is that good or bad?”
I don’t know if she wants me to kill him or help him.
“Bad, obviously.” Her voice is still weak, and I realize it’s because of her nausea. “Also, he needs to be hidden. And there’s that.” She points to a round rock on the ground.
Not a rock.
A severed head. I understand why she’s feeling so distressed, so disgusted, and pull her closer. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll throw it far away. It can’t hurt you.”
Azur snorts, and I shoot him a murderous glare. “What’s your problem?”
“I have a long list. Ask your beloved wife.” I don’t know how he manages to sound haughty and ironic even lying down and supposedly hurt.
“Marlak,” she mumbles. “That’s the Witch King’s head.”
At first, my ears refuse to believe her words, then my entire body trembles, followed by a wave of relief. “You killed him?”
“I beheaded him. Azur’s saying it won’t kill him. But I… licked his blood. And his magic…” She closes her eyes. “Gross, so gross. I feel it in my body.”
Gross indeed. “Azur’s magic?”
“And the Witch King’s.”
“You licked the Witch King?”
“The head.” Astra points at the disgusting thing on the ground. “I mean, the neck. I need to rest, to… And Azur, he needs to be hidden, very well hidden from the Witch King. I was thinking…” She looks at me, expectation in those lovely brown eyes.
I know what she means. “You want to take him home?”
She nods.
Azur.
The fae who threatened Astra. The fae who wanted to kill me just a few hours ago. The fae who might have been responsible for taking Astra to the Shadow Lands.
I turn to Azur. “Did you threaten her?”
He rolls his eyes and Astra says, “Of course not.”
“Marlak.” Azur’s voice is like a knife on a bevel. “I’m wounded. My magic is weak. Why don’t you take the opportunity to kill me? It might be your only chance.”
“Ignore him,” Astra says. “We need to take him home.”
I try to imagine Azur standing in our kitchen, but the idea is so insane that no image comes to mind. “That’s what you want?” I look into her eyes, searching for any trace of fear, of manipulation, of hesitation, but all I see is sheer will.
“Yes.”
I kiss her cheek, then whisper, “I trust your judgement. Also, my brother and Ziven are there. Is that—”
“Good. I also trust your judgement.” Our eyes meet.
“Can you come with me? Swimming?” I whisper. It’s obviously not swimming all the way south, but I hope she gets the hint. “I’ll see if Ferer can pick him up.”
“My magic’s partly back,” Azur says, not even trying to hide the fact that he was listening. “I could transcend myself. Just tell me where.”
And tell the location of my best hideout to my enemy?
And yet it’s what Astra wants. My heart stutters, but I decide to trust her.
“Do you know the Queen’s River?” I ask him.
“Not really,” he says.
“I could transcend us there.” Astra looks at me, her eyes bright. “I still have some of Azur’s magic. But I can’t get to the island, and I don’t want my magic being traced.”
The idea of Azur’s magic coursing through her veins disgusts me more than the Witch King’s, for some reason. Still, if she’s sure she can do it, I’ll have to trust her.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, can’t believe I’m about to agree with her plan. “Get us above the river. I’ll create an ice layer so we don’t fall in the water.”
“Should I take the head?” she asks.
“Burn it,” Azur says.
My eyes meet Astra’s. She knows about my shameful feelings towards fire.
She glances at the head. “Let’s leave it here. If by any chance it’s traced, it will be far from us. And I think this island is still fairly protected.”
“It’s safer to burn it,” Azur insists. “Just use your magic.”
Astra gets up. “No. I think it won’t bother us. Let’s go.”
She crouches by Azur and holds his hand and mine. Then, begrudgingly, I take Azur’s hand—cold like a fish. Too cold and strange. Quite disgusting.
Soon the light of the moon and stars fade. When it returns, I create an ice layer below us.
We’re in the Queen’s River, right by the island house, and I float us all there, Azur still lying down.
I hope I don’t regret this.