Tobias
Irecounted everything I could about blood magic as Quinn worked and I sorted through Silvius’s library.
Despite her frequent yawning, Quinn adamantly kept at it until it was so late it was early, the first rays of dawn cutting through the dark.
She hadn’t wanted to stop working even then, not when every minute counted.
I barely managed to convince her that some rest and food was an important part of our cure-finding strategy, as it was entirely reliant upon her brain.
It was a relief to escape to a different wing of the castle. I doubted I could sleep no matter how bone-deep my exhaustion. Not here.
Once, I had dreamed of a warm, cozy bed…and now that I wasn’t forced to sleep on a cold cot atop unyielding stone, I found myself tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable when the bed felt so soft it might swallow me whole. But sleep eluded me, even after I dragged the blanket to the floor.
Perhaps it was a mercy. Even if I did fall asleep, visiting that cell in my dreams felt inevitable. After all, I had spent the night in the laboratory that had spawned my worst torments, so close to the dungeon where my nightmares had been carved into me.
I hastily changed out of the fine, albeit rumpled clothes I had worn all night, then stepped into the shower, turning the knob so it was nearly scalding.
Eva’s blood had soaked through my shirt, its presence masked by the dark shade even as it dried against my skin.
It left a stain on my arm that I scrubbed until my skin was raw, then kept scrubbing like I could erase the memory of her unconscious and bleeding along with the stain.
By the time I fell back into my overly pillowed bed, it was light enough outside that the sun’s glow seeped against my eyelids, my vision turning blood-red.
There was a knock on the door. My eyes flew open.
“Tobias?”
From the way the sunlight had strengthened, I knew I had managed to sleep, though it felt like a mere moment.
“Be there in a minute, Sagray,” I called out, rolling out of bed. It took me a moment to hunt down a pair of pants. I opened the door as I pulled a shirt over my head.
Quinn’s eyes lingered on my exposed stomach, meeting my eyes as I yanked the hem down. “Did you sleep?”
I nodded. Not a lie for once. Little did she know that this amount of sleep was a common occurrence. I hadn’t gotten used to feeling safe enough to sleep—often startling awake at the slightest sound, even months later.
Quinn’s hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, though a few curls were already escaping. She wore casual clothes, but the jeweled dagger I gave her rested on her hip, the diamond on its grip glinting with purpose.
A delicious smell wafted toward me. “Did you bring something to eat?”
Quinn held up a satchel. “I brought us something to eat. Breakfast burritos…or at least something like it. It took a bit to explain the concept to my friend in the kitchens.” She looked at me knowingly. “They used to be your favorite, right?”
Whatever remained of my heart tugged painfully in my chest. I hesitated, unsure how to respond. The teenager who used to make a version of these nearly every morning existed a lifetime ago.
Quinn gave me an exaggerated wink. “You need your energy too if you plan to keep up with me.”
“Don’t I know it,” I muttered, turning away to grab my belt. I fastened my dagger to it, though I left Duskbane, the matching sword that had once been my mother’s, where it lay across the desk. “Straight to the lab?”
She shook her head. “I want to check on Eva before we head down.”
“Let’s eat while we walk,” I said, then added at Quinn’s affronted look, “Don’t worry, I know a pretty good healer if I choke.”
She let out an unamused huff before passing me my burrito, but I didn’t miss the twitch of her lips as she started to unwrap her own.
Quinn glanced at me, and I quickly buried the smile that threatened to surface with a hasty bite of my breakfast. The silence felt comfortable as we walked down the hallway even as the arched white ceilings sent a shiver down my spine.
Quinn’s arm brushed my elbow as we turned around a corner. The glancing contact of her skin against mine sent a jolt of awareness through me that nearly singed my food as my magic reached for her. But my shoulders relaxed, her nearness banishing any sense of unease.
It was dangerous, falling into old habits. Letting her in again would end badly for both of us, even if it felt as natural as breathing to do so.
I needed to put some distance back between us, but my sister’s life depended on Quinn succeeding. I couldn’t walk away now. And Quinn needed someone too, someone who could help her bear the burden.
I was far too selfish to let that someone be anybody else.
?
Marin opened the door to Eva and Bash’s room, looking as tired as I felt.
Bash barely glanced at us from where he sat next to the head of Eva’s bed, softly stroking her hair as she slept.
With her chestnut hair spread out behind her and the feverish flush to her cheeks, Eva reminded me of a princess in one of the fairytales we used to read together long after we should have been asleep.
Nevermind the fact that she was a queen, not a princess, and a dubiously consensual kiss wasn’t the cure we needed.
Marin raised her finger to her lips in a shushing motion as she ushered us back, leading us to the small seating area outside Eva’s room.
Quinn stared at Eva through the doorway for a long moment before she followed. “Any change?”
“She hasn’t woken since you saw her,” Marin said, keeping her voice low. “And her fever hasn’t broken—which I can only hope means her body is fighting the virus as hard as I am. The fog…” She let out a short sigh. “It’s resisting my magic. Any luck downstairs?”
“We’re making progress,” Quinn replied, mimicking her tone. “The magic involved is a variable I still don’t completely understand. Though it’s probably a good thing he bound it to Eva’s blood or else we’d risk the virus spreading.”
Marin shuddered. “Yael, Rivan, and Pari left for Mayim first thing this morning to ramp up the search for Silvius along with some of our rangers. Queen Sariyah is sending a few of her most trusted healers to provide some assistance keeping Eva stable. She also offered the resources of her healer’s enclave should you need help with your research. ”
“I keep meaning to take the time to visit the Enclave,” Quinn said wistfully. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Marin spoke through her yawn. “Did you ever reach out about the experiments you’ve been running?”
“There’s a healer there I’ve been in correspondence with…” Quinn looked thoughtful. “I should’ve asked him for his help sooner.”
Something dark slithered in my stomach, curling around my gut. I was not about to be jealous of Quinn’s pen pal. Yet the thought of her writing letters to some fae scientist who was probably as brilliant as she was rankled.
After all, it wasn’t like I had any claim on her…
“Do you want me to throw that away?”
Marin’s question cut into my thoughts, and I realized I was strangling the napkin that had been wrapped around my breakfast. I cleared my throat, avoiding her knowing gaze. “I’ve got it.”
I reached out, plucking Quinn’s napkin carefully from her hand, careful not to brush my fingers against her palm.
Quinn gave me a grateful look before asking Marin, “Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” Marin assured her. “Well, I ate. Then I force-fed my brother. I’ll send for some warm broth and toast when Eva’s awake again.”
I turned away, waiting until I was above the trash can before opening my hand. My napkin was visibly charred, five dark fingerprints marking where my fingers dug in. I swiftly dropped it into the bin, dusting off the few burnt flecks where they were stuck to my palm.
Feeling conspicuous, I glanced behind me. Bash stood by the doorway, looking dead on his feet. I tensed, but he only blinked tiredly.
“You should sleep when she does,” Quinn said softly. “Take shifts to monitor her.”
He grimaced. “I slept a little last night, trying to see if I could dreamwalk to her…not that I had any luck. I can barely feel her through our bond, and the fog keeping her from me is getting stronger despite Marin’s best efforts.”
My head snapped to Marin. “I thought you were able to hold it back?”
Marin flinched slightly, and Quinn less-than-discreetly elbowed me in the side.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I just meant—”
“I’m trying,” Marin said flatly. “It’s progressing too fast. I’m hoping Queen Sariyah’s healers have some fresh ideas on how to keep it from getting worse until Quinn can work out a cure.”
Quinn’s lips tightened, the only sign of the pressure she had to be feeling.
“But it’s f-fixable, right?” I gritted my teeth before trying again. “She was able to remember what she forgot after you removed the fog last night. So the effects won’t last once she’s cured?”
“I don’t know,” Marin said tiredly. “The stronger it gets, the more challenging it is to push back. This is all speculation and hypothesis until we get answers from Silvius. Unless you found a notebook down there with the answers?”
It was advancing into her mind—and the longer we let it, the more damage it could cause. We needed time to find the cure, if there even was one. Time to read and research and test. Time to hunt down Silvius and rip those answers from his throat.
Time that Eva didn’t have.
The question was out before I could stop it. “You’re saying this—her magic, her memory loss…it could be p-permanent?”
Quinn whirled so quickly her curls whipped against her face. “Don’t you start thinking that way, Maris.” She pointed one finger at me, then pressed it firmly into my chest. “I won’t allow it, especially when she could hear you.”
I glanced toward my sister’s lifeless form, then back to Quinn’s furious face.
“I-I’m sorry.”
I let her see the truth of those words on my face, just for a moment. Quinn remained silent for a beat, no doubt weighing my apology.