Chapter 38 Astrid #2
Zryan stares at Astrid, but she turns away. She can’t bear to look at him. No, she doesn’t believe he has anything to do with this, but if what the assassin says is true, it’s someone who resides in the castle. In his castle.
“End this,” Astrid says. She’s bone-tired all of a sudden.
She wants to lie down, to curl up tight in the dark, to not think or feel.
Just hurt. She wants it all over. She can’t understand how she is still here, when Jessa isn’t, how this piece of shit lying broken on the sand still lives when her friend is dead.
Useless.
“End him!” she screams.
Skylar doesn’t even look at him as she drains the life from him.
His mouth opens in a silent shriek as his skin is pulled taut over his face and his body starts to rapidly decay before Astrid’s eyes.
His hair turns white, falls out in soft clumps, and he crumples in on himself.
It is a matter of seconds and Skylar has reduced him to a wrinkled husk.
No one says a word.
Astrid is hollow. She grasps her pendant. One of a matching pair. Then she rubs a hand along Bastet’s back. “Take us to them.”
He leaps into the air before she can finish, soaring back to Jessa and Quincy, to her grief.
Violent shakes begin to rattle her body and she clenches her jaw.
She can’t lose it now, she cannot lose it now.
Bastet descends back into the ball; a crowd of people are still gathered, surrounded by soldiers and Dreki, who are attempting to maintain order.
They’re guiding people out, though a few hover around Jessa and Quincy.
Arboria is lying against Jessa’s back, Fionn nowhere to be seen.
But standing over her friend and her fox is Axel.
His eyes flit from left to right, until they look up and spot Astrid.
Bastet lands in front of him and she leaps off him, collapsing next to Jessa and Quincy, grasping them both, pulling them close to her, knowing it will never be close enough.
She buries her face in Jessa’s hair, inhaling, wanting to remember everything about her friend right down to the way she smells.
Like pine. Like home. She strokes Quincy’s fur, savors the coarse strands between her fingers.
They’re dead. They’re dead. They’re dead.
Astrid releases a howl of rage, of pain, and Bastet howls in answer. Her eyes are dry; tears are not enough for her friend. Nothing is enough.
The familiar crackle in the air, a tingling along her skin. Zryan’s voice, soft again. “We need to move them, Astrid. We can’t leave them here.”
She sits up, numb. Move them where? Where could they possibly take Jessa that would be appropriate? She has to be kept safe. Astrid must say all this out loud because Zryan answers her.
“We’ll take her to her room, get her—get her cleaned up. We can make sure she’s looked after properly there. Her and Quincy.”
Her heart cracks a little more. Thank the Stars they are together, wherever they are.
Zryan steps forward. “No!” Astrid gasps, and he hesitates. “No, please. Don’t touch her.”
“Astrid, let me—” but Zryan is cut off by Axel.
“Astrid?” His voice is low, tender. It doesn’t suit him. “I want to help. I am going to take Jessa. You can stay with her, but I need to lift her and take her back to the castle.”
“Where’s Fionn? They can do it,” she says.
Arboria snuffles from next to Jessa. FIONN WENT TO FIND YOU.
“Princess Astrid, will you let me do it?” Axel asks.
She squeezes her eyes shut. Takes a few breaths. “Yes,” she whispers finally. She can’t explain it, why she can’t accept Zryan’s help. Maybe she’s punishing herself for the joy he brought her before Jessa was murdered—murdered because someone thought she was Astrid.
Axel approaches slowly and bends down, his arms gentle as he slides them beneath Jessa’s body.
“Arboria, will you go with them?”
OF COURSE, MY PRINCESS. I WILL NOT LEAVE HER.
“Quincy,” she murmurs. What about Quincy? He’s huge: no one could carry him.
I CAN TAKE QUINCY ON MY BACK, Bastet offers.
Astrid doesn’t bother telling Bastet she can’t lift the fox, she’s not even sure she could cast right now to levitate him onto Bastet’s back, but then Zryan is there again, quick-footed, as though trying to help before Astrid can stop him.
He’s bent beside Quincy, and beyond Astrid’s comprehension, he lifts the giant fox and drapes his body over Bastet, heartbreakingly tender, before quickly moving away.
Astrid says nothing to Zryan; she just climbs up next to the beautiful fox and holds him.
She searches for Jessa and sees Arboria and Axel surrounded by guards, Jessa’s body held close against his chest, her long navy hair cascading over his arm.
Bastet whimpers at the sight. Then he crouches and jumps, struggling with the weight of Quincy and Astrid, and she clings to both of the familiars with all her might.
Astrid glances over her shoulder. Skylar is back, standing beside her brother, eyes on Astrid as she flies away. Astrid places a hand over her heart. Skylar does the same.
Thank you, she thinks. Thank you.