Chapter 16
AZUR
The white in my hands has taken one third of my palm, even though I’ve been doing the incantation Astra told me to do. She’s been gone for a while now, and I can’t help but fear that something went terribly wrong.
And then Renel and Ziven haven’t written.
Dread and anguish have been my grim companions in the last few days, and even then, now it feels as if they’re stretching out their chilly hands to strangle me.
I’m sitting with Lidiane in the strangely empty kitchen, watching her as she sips cold brew tea and glances at the transcending note from time to time.
“I should go there and check,” she finally says.
“If I tell you it’s unwise, will you listen to me? Or are you going to say I should be dead, therefore my opinion doesn’t count?”
She sets the note on the table and gives me a stunning smile. “I always listen, Azur. If I didn’t, how would I disagree with you?” Her expression changes. “They must be at the circle, waiting for me. Maybe the note didn’t work or was stolen or—”
“They were caught. You know that as well as I do.”
She purses her lips, the way she does when she’s thinking, then says, “I’ll go to the circle and check. If they’re not there, I’ll come back right away.”
Dread settles in my chest. At the same time, I know that sitting here idly is probably gnawing at her patience.
“Right away? You won’t go exploring, trying to find them?”
“I’m not reckless.”
I’m not so sure I agree, but I don’t want to argue. My heart’s thumping hard in my chest. “Be fast,” I say. “If something goes wrong, I don’t know if I’ll be able to reach you.”
She nods, then looks at the note again. “No. Wait.”
Light brown letters appear on the paper, and I crane myself to see it. At least one of the knots in my chest unties in relief.
We’re fine, but Zorwal saw us. I froze him, but I don’t know if it killed him. Tarlia is with us and she’s fine. Mirella is with us too, saying she wants to see Marlak. Renel is suspicious, and we’re going north to the Misty Court.
Important! Zorwal and Otavio are connected and affect each other. Their minds are connected to the Witch King too, and connecting more and more. Otavio is likely another anchor. He needs to be killed, just like Zorwal. He visited Zorwal recently.
Her brows furrow. “Otavio. We’ll need to tell Marlak and Astra.”
“Indeed.” I don’t want to voice my fears about them.
“You think they aren’t coming back, don’t you?”
I swallow. “I fear something’s wrong. Now, should I try to help? If I do, will it make everything worse? I don’t know.”
She stares at the table. “If they don’t come back…” Her voice is strangled. “We’ll need to find a way to defeat the Witch King.”
“If they don’t come back, I don’t know if I’ll be around for long.
What you’ll have to do is survive, and help as many fae as you can to survive with you—and escape his thrall.
Survive first. You say that dead people don’t have the right to give opinions, and it might be true.
What I can say is that dead people defeat no one. ”
She sighs and takes a sip of her tea. What I see turns my insides into soot, and I tremble from head to toe.
“Can I see your hand?” My voice comes out harsh and angry.
“What?” She rests the cup on the table and pulls her hand.
I take a deep breath, and even then, it takes all my effort to speak slowly. “Show me your hand.” My heart’s throwing a racket in my chest.
“It’s nothing.”
“Lidiane.”
Her hand is trembling as she places it on the table.
The tip of her finger is visibly white. I want to curse each second that brought her to this curse; the moment she decided to go to the castle, the moment that caused me to go there and rescue her. My magic must have taken her—and now I don’t know what to do.
She pulls her hand so that it’s right in front of her eyes and squints. “Maybe it’s an impression.”
All I can do is glare at her. She knows what’s happening as well as me.
Still, she says, “If Marlak kills the Witch King…” Of course she can’t continue conjuring a theory she doesn’t believe in.
Fury, fear, anger, even more fear. They cloud my mind so much that they cleanse it. All doubt, care, wisdom, and sense disappear.
I need to save her. No matter how.
In that state of desperation, an idea comes to me, and I get up.
“If I don’t come back…” All my words are stuck.
My thoughts are gone. All I can think about is saving her. And yet I know I might be condemning myself. I don’t care. I exit the house and float across the river. There’s a storm in my mind, a storm muffling faraway cries, muffling her voice calling my name.
In a second, I’m gone.
MARLAK
The sun descends, its shadows getting longer and longer as my heart gets heavy. I don’t know what I’m going to do if we’re caught here at night, when my magic is gone and my wife’s on the brink of unconsciousness.
I’ve been walking, sometimes running, for a long time, Astra in my arms. She insisted she could walk, that she was fine, with fluttering eyes and slurred speech.
Still, I kept carrying her. Something’s wrong with her, and I don’t know if she was poisoned, lost too much blood, or if it’s just magic fatigue.
But magic fatigue shouldn’t affect her for that long.
There’s still some time before nightfall when we finally reach the place where Krat left me—but he’s not here. I sit on a rock, glad to rest Astra on my knees and ease some of the weight, as my arms are trembling with the effort.
“Is this the meeting point?” She asks, her voice quiet but otherwise normal.
“Yes.” I look around, then shout, “Hello! Krat!” I look back at her. “He should be here at any moment.”
She nods then rests her face against my chest, and I run a finger through her hair as I wait. Minutes and minutes go by as I try to distract my thoughts.
I can still smell the burned hair, still see Crisine. I thought she was an illusion. I thought… And I failed.
Astra burned the Witch King, but I don’t think it worked, and now we’re deep in the north of the Shadow Lands—and I have no magic.
TARLIA
I’m more than thankful to be away from that castle, away from Zorwal, away from that stinky, disgusting mattress, but all this walking is making me tired.
I understand that Renel might not want to bring Mirella to the island, but I wish we didn’t have to walk that much and didn’t have to go to a foreign court with a queen that might or might not receive us well.
And Renel… It’s not like I was hoping for a kiss and a love declaration.
Who am I kidding? I was obviously hoping for that.
Oh, my silly heart.
Of course, just because I was foolishly hoping for something, it doesn’t mean I was expecting it. Still, Renel could be nicer. Of course, he came to rescue me, and that counts as nice, but I wish…
Perhaps I wish he was in love with me, but no amount of wishing will make it true. I wish I wasn’t in love, and at least in this case a great deal of wishing might eventually work.
After an eternity of walking, we stop at the base of a steep hill—with an etched stairwell.
I can’t help but grimace at Renel. “Don’t tell me you want us to climb this.”
He blinks. “Why? Would you like me to carry you?”
“Of course not. I stink, right?”
He frowns. “Didn’t you wash?”
Mirella then says, “If I had my magic—”
“No.” Renel glares at her, then repeats, “No. I’m not giving back your magic until you meet Marlak. And it’s impolite to use your powers in a foreign court. I thought you would have learned your matters, princess.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s climb like peasants. The way you like.”
He breaches the distance to his sister in two steps. “I’m quite proud of my background and upbringing. Better being a peasant than a spoiled brat.”
“You’re doing this on purpose to delay the end of our deal, aren’t you?”
“I take no pleasure in tormenting others, but we need to do more research. What better place than this?”
Mirella shakes her head. “It might be too late. My brother was sent alone to face that monster, and…” Her voice breaks. “I don’t know if he succeeded.”
Renel’s face is grave as he looks down and closes his eyes for a second, so pained, so sad. Then he faces Mirella. “Whatever’s happening, at least we can do our part. It’s something.”
Ziven asks, “And you think the queen will help us?”
Renel pauses and presses his lips together. “She can be… temperamental, but…” He looks at Ziven again. “Wait. You’re a king, right?”
“A human prince. Never been crowned.”
Renel waves a finger. “It could make a difference. She’s been looking for a husband for some time, and if we were to convince her about the advantage of an alliance with Krastel…”
“Wow, wow. Hold on there.” Ziven lets out a nervous chuckle. “You don’t expect me to commit my life and my kingdom just to look at some books.”
“Incredibly old books,” Renel says. “And they might help us. You don’t need to marry her, just… dangle the possibility. She’s very pretty.”
“No.” Ziven grimaces. “I’m not going to deceive this queen.”
Renel waves a hand. “Not deceive, just make her interested in getting to know you.”
This talk is revolting. I glare at Renel. “Ziven’s not like you, who likes to make empty promises to women.”
Renel widens his eyes. “Tarlia, I’m fae. I can’t possibly make any false promises. Can’t even lie.”
“Yet you see no issue with it.” My voice has a desperate pitch that I hate.
Renel places a hand on his chest. “I’m not suggesting any lies or deception. I’m not saying he should tell her he loves her. You know what? Nevermind. I guess we’ll beg or something.”
“Much more honorable,” I snap. “And why don’t you pose as a potential husband?”
“I’m no king. The sad truth is that when you have no power, nobody wants you.”
I want Renel, want him more than I can even admit to myself. A crazy, pointless wanting that’s pushing me to the brink of madness, and yet I shove it all down and say, “Because you want the wrong people.”
He snorts. “I’ve noticed that.”