CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
She was small and limp, cradled like glass. Her head lolled to the side, legs dragging behind. I followed them without thinking, my body moving on its own, not feeling my feet, only the hollow thud of my heartbeat in my skull.
They brought her into one of the bedrooms and laid her on a bed. She wasn’t moving. Her face was swollen, one eye nearly shut, a deep cut splitting her cheekbone. Handprints bruised her throat. And her hair—strawberry blonde. Matted, and tangled. But I’d know it anywhere.
It was her.
Licia.
I’d found her, but I’d been too late. I stayed frozen as they tended to her. Siena pressed a damp cloth to her face while another girl wrapped her arm in bandages. They moved like they’d done it a hundred times before. Then someone called them back to work, and they left.
I didn’t. I stayed by the bed. Her face didn’t quite look like hers anymore.
The shape was the same, the outline of the Licia I once knew, but she was paler than I remembered.
Even unconscious, she looked afraid. I reached out, brushing a piece of hair from her face with shaking fingers.
Maybe I could heal her. I had to do something.
She stirred and her eyes blinked open, unfocused and blurry, then landed on me. Or maybe they didn’t. She stared like I was something her mind had conjured only to be cruel.
“Kera?” she asked, voice cracked and raw.
“Yes.” I exhaled shakily. “I’m here, Licia. I’m here now.”
A tiny, trembling flicker of hope crossed her face. Then it vanished, and she turned her head away.
“No,” she whispered, curling into herself. “I’m just imagining. You’re not here. You can’t be here. How could you be here?”
“Licia—”
She shook her head, gaze flicking back with disbelief. “What would you be doing here?” Her voice turned bitter. “I’m dreaming again. I still get them sometimes, the visions. But they don’t mean anything. They lie.”
I took her hand gently, brushing my fingers across her chilled skin.
“It’s me,” I murmured. “I’m here, I promise.”
A hollow laugh slipped past her lips.
“Why would you be in Hel, Kera?”
“I came for you,” I said, steadying my breath. “I’m here to get you out.”
She scoffed, shoulders tensing. “Yeah? And how did you find me?”
I held her hand tighter, anchoring her to me.
“Licia, please. I’m real. And I’m here to get you out.”
She yanked her hand away, the flicker of hope crushed beneath fear.
“No,” she said, voice dropping low. “I know what this is.” She shook her head again, shrinking back. “This is the end, Kera. There’s nothing after this.”
The words gutted me, but I held firm.
“No,” I said quietly. “No, Licia. We’re getting out of here.”
She stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.
“No. We’re not. I’m not. You can’t save me.”
The ache split open inside me.
“You are,” I whispered. The words rushed out like water breaking through a dam. “I will get you out of here, no matter what it takes. I will do anything. Everything.”
Her gaze lifted slightly, eyes searching mine.
“You’ve seen it, Licia. You know what I am. What I can do.”
“My visions…” she murmured, dazed. The word tasted strange in her mouth. She blinked slowly, fighting to stay conscious. “Right.”
“I found your painting.”
Her brow furrowed. “My painting? Which one?”
“It was of me,” I said, voice cracking. “Soaring. In smoke and fire.”
Her breath caught. “How… how did you find it?”
“The man with the tattoos. He sold them.”
Licia flinched. Her hands clenched the blanket in fists, knuckles pale.
“Ero! That bastard!” she spat. “He sold my paintings? That fucker.”
There was still rage in her, raw and burning, and beneath it, the kind of hurt that never truly heals. But for a moment, I saw her.
The girl I remembered.
The fierce, fearless Licia.
“He didn’t just sell my paintings, Kera. He sold me.” Her voice splintered, suddenly too young. “I didn’t do anything wrong and he sold me. People can’t be sold. You can’t sell people!”
“I know,” I breathed. “I am so sorry, Licia. I am so sorry.”
“How old are you?” Her eyes traced my face. “You look… different.”
“So do you,” I said gently, trying to smile.
“Are you actually here?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’m here. And I… I turned nineteen. I graduated a few months ago.”
Her mouth parted slightly. Her expression softened.
“I missed graduation?” she asked.
Maybe time worked differently for her. Maybe that’s what a rough life does, bends things, stretches and twists them until years feel like days. As if she hadn’t disappeared a decade ago. As if graduation was all she’d missed out on, not a whole life.
“That’s not all you missed,” I whispered. “I can’t believe you’re—” I swallowed hard, voice buckling. “You’re alive. Everyone thought…” I shook my head. “We thought you were dead, Licia. You just… vanished.”
Her eyes dropped, lashes fluttering.
“What happened?” I asked softly.
She stared at the blanket, fingertip gliding over the fabric like she was sketching something invisible.
“My mum woke me in the night,” she murmured.
“Told me we had to leave. Right then. No time to pack, just run.” Her voice drifted.
“I don’t know why. I tried to see it in my visions, but I never did.
I asked the gods why, they didn’t answer.
I remember a long carriage ride, staying at inns.
Somehow, we ended up in Alevé. I don’t know if she knew where we were going.
For a while, I thought we’d run forever.
Mum said it would be safe there, that we’d have a fresh start. ”
Her lip trembled.
“But I lost her,” she said quietly. “I think she died. But I don’t know how. She left one morning to find work, said she’d be back before sundown. But she never came back.”
Tears welled despite her blinking.
“And then I met Ero. He found me sketching on the pavement. Said I had talent. Said I could stay in his loft, paint all I wanted. And I thought… maybe it was a second chance.”
She gave a bitter laugh that stuck in her throat. “He was kind. For a while.” Then her face contorted, like she might be sick. “Then he started bringing people over. Men. Said he needed the gold. Said I owed him. And I told him no.”
She paused. I regretted asking, seeing how much pain was embedded in those memories. And it hurt me too, hearing her story. Knowing we’d left that man breathing.
“One night, I woke up to footsteps.” She sucked in a breath. “I thought it was him. But he had friends. I couldn’t see anything. Someone threw something over my face, and I kicked. I screamed. I bit someone’s hand, hard enough to feel the bones crack through my teeth. But it didn’t matter.”
She swallowed hard.
“Next thing I knew… I was chained to a bed.”
“Aran beat him up,” I said quietly.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, pulse quickening. “The serp—Ero, refused to tell us where to find you. Aran almost killed him.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, her whole frame tensing. “Aran is here? What are you talking about?”
“Yes,” I said. “Will and Aran were here. They saw you. A few days ago. That’s how I knew—”
“You’re lying,” she cut in, voice rising. “I would’ve remembered. I would’ve seen them.”
“They’re here,” I said, willing her to believe me. “They’re going to help us out.”
Her face crumpled.
“They’ll be waiting forever then,” she muttered. “There’s no leaving this place. I told you. There’s no leaving.”
“I’ll find a way,” I swore, gripping her hand again.
She looked at me like I was mad. “You can’t.”
“I can,” I said. “I will. I can do things, Licia—things I never thought possible. I’m going to get you out of here.”
She let out a cracked laugh, breath shaky.
“How?”
“You’ve seen it,” I said quickly. “Kalani told me about your dreams, Licia. You’ve been dreaming of me. Of this.”
She blinked slowly, trying to process.
“Kalani?”
“Yeah, we, uh… met. She’s waiting for you too. She said you still dream.”
“They’re just dreams.”
“No, they’re not,” I said, firm. “They’re real. Your dreams are real. They show you the future. They show you the past.”
“You think I can see the future?” she scoffed, leaning away. “Well, if you can fly, why don’t you fly us out of here?”
“I can’t fly,” I admitted, smiling despite everything.
“So… what can you do?”
I returned the smile, faint but real. “It’s easier if I show you.”
“Kera, this is insane,” she whispered, her voice splintering. “My visions aren’t real. You probably aren’t real. Will and Aran aren’t waiting outside. I’m just imagining all this because of the pain.”
I had to show her. She had to believe me. I clenched my fists and tried. Focused everything I had left into the center of my palm.
Nothing.
Panic prickled under my skin, and my head felt heavy. The mist in the air was pressing in again, dulling everything. My thoughts slowed, focus slipping. Whatever lived inside me, whatever answered when I called… stayed silent. I gritted my teeth and tried again.
Finally, a spark. Then a flame. Sudden. Sharp. It burst to life too fast, catching the edge of the sheet near Licia’s leg before I could stop it.
“Shit,” she gasped. “Put that out! You’ll burn the whole place down!”
She flinched, then lunged without hesitation, grabbed the blanket and smothered the flame in a few quick, frantic motions. “Not that I’d mind,” she muttered.
Then she froze, eyes fixed on the scorched sheet. Slowly, her gaze lifted to me.
“How… did you do that?”