39. Cenote
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Cenote
Cassiel and I reached where Archer crouched. Liadan held the jar while Archer rubbed his hand, hissing.
“Let me see that.” Liadan handed the jar over. I peered inside the clear glass. The black liquid was familiar. “Where did you find this?” I asked Archer.
He was still rubbing his hand. “The water turned into it.”
I turned it inside the jar, watching small bubbles surface. Bringing it to my nose to sniff, I gasped.
My body tensed, recalling the painful sting traveling through my veins. Then I was back to when Al fastened the bindings around my wrists. This was the same liquid Al injected into the effigy. I scoffed. The liquid that made Warlords was the same used to destroy them.
The opposite nature of its aspects was difficult to fathom.
I crouched.
“Take care,” Cassiel barked.
I gently lowered the jar until it was submerged except for where my fingertips held the glass. Clear liquid flooded the jar, colliding with the inkiness at the bottom. As I lifted the jar, all the contents turned into the same black liquid.
“They used this to poison you, Cassiel,” I said, more sure than anything. “This is what they called the Elixir.”
“They likely attempted to turn others without coming here,” he said.
With a nod, I agreed. “And they found it impossible.”
“So how do I do this?” Liadan asked.
“All the Lore of Old said was that those with potential must drink from the cenote.” I frowned.
Liadan didn’t waste a moment. He cupped his hand and brought it to his mouth, drinking. He shook his hand, features twisted with pain, but scooped again and drank more. The liquid remained its clear, cyan color as he brought it to his lips.
Liadan turned to look at us. His eyes widened, and he clamped his arm over his stomach. He groaned, shoulders heaving. Tilting onto his side, he writhed on the hard stone. Gashes opened along his skin.
“Help him!” I shouted. It echoed around us.
Archer and Jude burst into action, one grabbing one arm each. They both carried him to an area without as much stone. As soon as they set him down, Liadan curled into a fetal position.
“I remember when Tabby Awakened. It took almost a sennight.”
“That happened to me too.”
Liadan groaned. Archer shook his shoulder, but he did not react as he shivered.
“We should return him to the Resistance caves.” As I spoke, Jude was already crouched beside the cenote.
“Jude!” I shouted. He was already drinking. Once, twice, four times, until his body trembled so severely he could drink no more.
“Fuck!” Archer shouted, running to grab him. He dragged him away from the pond. “It was supposed to be me.”
Now he could not because with two unconscious bodies, we needed help bringing them back.
“Foolish,” Cassiel snarled. “We have done our part. Let us return.”
“We cannot leave them. What if they cannot find their way back?” Archer shouted back.
Cassiel’s expression tautened with visible annoyance. He must be tired if it was easier to read him. I grabbed his arm.
“Archer, you can carry one and Cassiel can carry the other,” I said.
‘I will do no such thing.’
“Fine, then I will do it.” I began to walk away.
He caught my arm with a rumble from his chest, strode before me to collect Liadan’s shivering body, and tossed him over his shoulder. He moved with deliberate slowness.
I still clasped the jar. I walked over to the cenote and tipped the liquid back inside. Upon touching the cenote, the black inkiness undulated and seemed to rip itself apart until it became the same clear cyan.
The magic in the cenote was fascinating. It was also why it should remain out of reach for people like Al.
“Amara, step away from there.”
I backed away at Cassiel’s order and set the jar on the ground. It tipped over and shattered.
“Amara,” Cassiel growled again. Instead of cleaning the glass, I limped to his side.
Archer had already managed to get Jude’s body across his back, holding his arms in front of him.
I followed Cassiel’s orders because I did not want to risk him tossing Liadan aside to lift me. I slowed my stride. “Lead the way.” I said, allowing Cassiel to move in front of me.
“Stay close,” Cassiel ordered. ‘Grab onto me if you need.’
He led the way, and I stepped on the exact spot Cassiel did until we reached the mouth of the mountain.
I let myself trail behind, my hip pinching the entire descent.
The path down the mountain was grueling on my legs, but I managed to reach the end with only three close moments where I believed I would tumble down the rest of the way. As soon as we stepped a distance away, I looked behind, and the mountain was gone.
I kept a few paces behind Cassiel and Archer, scanning the forest. Faint purple light came through the tops of the leaves, hinting at dusklight. I rubbed my arms. The magic in The Barren was something beyond anything I had ever felt.
There was no fog to be seen this time, and we reached the edge of the forest easily. A while longer and we arrived where we had left the horses tied to a tree. All of them were gone, and the tree where we tied them had snapped.
Archer grunted and lowered Jude in a hasty flop. Jude made a sound and rolled onto his side, shivering.
“Where are the horses?”
Cassiel whistled, sharp and abrupt.
“Abrax!” I shouted, clicking my tongue.
Loud whinnies brought me to a pond. Abrax was there, grazing on grass, the branch attached to his reins. The other horses were scattered throughout, grazing or drinking from the pond.
Archer went to the two horses and took their snapped reins.
He led them to where he had left Jude. Meanwhile, Cassiel tossed Liadan’s limp body across his steed and went to collect Abrax.
His gait was uneven, and he kept rolling his shoulders.
Sweat continued to slick his temples and drip down his forehead.
The damp fabric of his tunic clung to his skin, turning it translucent.
A darkness on his chest caught my focus.
Not shadow or dirt, something discolored and deep—like a bruise.
I collected the horse Liadan was on and brought him to where Abrax and Cassiel were.
“Are you sure you are well?”
“I said yes,” he hissed.
The line of his back faced me, so all I could see was him tensing. The harsh words were abrupt enough to slice through me. I pressed my lips into a line. It was clear he was not well. Something was terribly wrong, but he blocked me from it. He turned around.
“I should not have—” He exhaled and rubbed his palm over his face.
“We must go,” I said thinly.
Circles darkened beneath his eyes. I had never seen him so utterly exhausted.
I stepped past him and tied the reins of Liadan’s horse to the metal ring at Abrax’s saddle, and I mounted.
Cassiel remained silent for a moment before finally settling behind me. We navigated to the main road where Archer waited and rode down the darkening road.
I could not cease thinking about Cassiel’s wellbeing.