15. Adelina #2
I try to pull my hand free, and she lets me, which somehow makes me feel worse. I shove the blanket aside and swing my legs toward the edge of the bed. Pain explodes through my foot. White-hot, immediate, merciless.
A cry tears from my throat, and I fold over myself, gripping the edge of the mattress as nausea floods me.
My right foot is wrapped from toes to ankle in clean linen, the bandages stained green-brown where herbs have soaked through.
Beneath them, the joint is swollen enough that even the shape looks wrong.
Nara does not say I told you so.
“You fractured something small,” she says quietly.
“Or came close enough that the difference doesn’t matter.
You walked on it, ran on it, and then whatever magic brought you here dragged the last of your strength out through your bones.
You arrived half-frozen, fevered, and shaking so hard I had to hold you down to keep you from hurting yourself. ”
I stare at the bandages. My body no longer feels like mine.
Maybe it hasn’t for a long time.
“I don’t remember,” I whisper.
“You weren’t meant to.”
At that, I look up. Nara’s face tightens. She has said more than she intended.
“What does that mean?”
She hesitates.
“Nara.” The name comes out like a plea, not a command.
Her expression eases. “I believe you used dormant magic. It takes what it needs. Strength. Breath. Sometimes memory around the edges, if the fae is already worn thin. Freya said she suspected you had more within you than what we knew.”
“Freya knew?”
“She knew there is more happening within that castle than anyone outside those walls knows. She knew your brother lies. She knew your mother well enough to know what the king and queen say about your powers couldn’t possibly be true.”
My hand rises to the necklace. The stone rests warm against my skin.
Nara sees the movement and goes very still. “She gave you that.”
It isn’t a question.
“It was my mother’s.”
“Yes.”
“You know it?”
“I know of it.”
“How?”
“Some heirlooms are older than the stories attached to them. Freya would know more than I do.”
I almost ask more. Then the name settles over me like a stone dropped into still water.
Freya. Pain moves through me that has nothing to do with my body. “Is she alive?”
Nara’s expression does not change quickly enough. My heart drops.
“We don’t know.” The answer is gentle.
I close my eyes. The room disappears behind darkness, and for one moment I’m beneath the trapdoor again, looking up at Freya’s face framed in lamplight.
“Go in peace, Adelina Leora.”
There is no peace in leaving someone you love behind. A sob rises, but I trap it in my chest because if I start, I may not stop.
Nara waits.
When I open my eyes again, she offers the cup. This time, I take it.
The liquid is warm and bitter, but it doesn’t pull me back under. I taste willowbark, sea mint, something mineral and faintly sweet. My hands shake, so she steadies the cup from beneath rather than taking it from me.
“You’re not a prisoner here,” she says quietly. “But you’re a patient, and I’m a poor nurse to anyone who tries to undo my work in one stubborn minute.”
I almost laugh. It hurts too much, so I don’t. “Are you a healer?”
“Village-trained, temple-taught, and better than most men with court titles who use ten words where one herb will do.”
That does draw the faintest breath from me, nearly amusement, nearly grief. Nara smiles.
“Who else is here?” I ask.
“My brother. Two cousins. One boatman who complains enough for four people. All loyal enough to keep quiet and frightened enough to be useful.”
“Frightened?”
“Only fools aren’t frightened right now.”
The warmth in the room suddenly feels too thin.
“What happened while I was asleep?”
Nara takes the cup back and sets it aside. “A great many men discovered they dislike being lied to.”
“Kaedryn?” His name leaves before I can stop it.
Nara studies me. “The prince?”
I nod.
“He has been searching, but not with Varek’s men. That much we know. His party followed your trail to the first checkpoint the day after you left it. Hedda and her husband are safe for now.”
Air leaves me so quickly I almost sag. “For now,” I repeat.
“It’s the only truth worth giving.”
I nod, though my throat tightens again. “And the prince?” I ask.
“He seems just as determined to find you as your brother, though his motives aren’t as clear. There are too many rumors about the Shadow Prince for us to know whose side he’s truly on.”
The Shadow Prince. I had heard the title whispered once in Dravaryn’s halls and never dared ask what it meant.
I look toward the window. “He saw me.”
“So we heard.”
My gaze snaps back to her. “From whom?”
“Astral Stones carry royal voices. They also carry panic like a cracked bell. The whole region has been full of broken reports. A prince shouting into the trees, Dravaryn riders chasing ghosts, villagers swearing they saw you in four places at once.” Her mouth curves without humor.
“You’ve become a very busy woman for someone who has been unconscious in my spare bed. ”
I shouldn’t laugh. I do. It comes out small and cracked, turning almost at once into a wince when my ribs and back protest, but it is laughter all the same. Nara’s expression warms as though she has been waiting to see if that sound still exists in me.
Then the laughter fades. “The ports,” I say.
Her face changes. That is the thing she didn’t want to tell me.
I sit straighter despite the pain. “What about the ports? I need to cross the sea.”
Nara folds her hands in her lap. “They’re swarmed with soldiers.”
My blood goes cold. “Dravaryn?”
“Dravaryn first. Then Elyrian watchers. Some Maralisian harbor officials too, though they’re pretending neutrality with remarkable effort.
” Her mouth tightens. “Every ferry master, trade captain, fisherman, and smuggler between here and the western docks has been questioned. Varek has men watching the main crossings. The prince’s men are watching the watchers.
Zerathian agents may be watching all of them if they have any damn sense. ”
I stare at her, the words pressing one by one against the fragile hope that carried me this far.
“But the Sea Temple...”
“Still stands.”
“I have to cross.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“That’s what we’re working on.”
Working on. The phrase is too small for the terror rising in me. “I can’t stay here.”
“You can’t walk to the privy without help.”
“I have to claim sanctuary before they find me.”
Nara leans forward. “And you won’t claim a damn thing if you collapse halfway down a dock and wake in your brother’s carriage.”