Chapter 40
Fuck,” Cillian hissed under his breath.
Gianna shot across the room and led me to the bed. “Sit, I can fix this.”
“What’s happening to me?” I asked between coughs.
“The Shroud,” Gianna replied. “It wants retribution for my leaving. I’d thought it might not affect you now that your Ethereal magic had awoken, but …
” She clamped a hand around my wrist, registering my pulse.
A few moments later, she shook her head with a furrowed brow.
Her hands muddled around in her dress as she searched inside a large pocket concealed within the flaps.
One after the other, she laid herbs on my stomach, rummaging for more.
“What are those?” I asked, voice harsh like gravel between my teeth.
She pulled out a handful of crushed white powder, siphoning it through her fingers like a funnel onto the nightstand.
“Spell materials: herbs and salt. They’ll counteract the Shroud’s retrieval magic. It wants your soul, but this”—she jittered a bundle of dark roots—“this should fool it.”
“Henbane leaf,” Cillian nodded. “Smart. If there’s no soul to retrieve, then it’ll stop searching. Genius, Gianna.”
“They don’t call me Mama Magia for nothing.” She winked.
I shot up. “You’re going to take my soul?”
Gianna snickered and pushed me gently back down on the bed.
“Of course not. I’m going to convince the Shroud you don’t have one to retrieve.
Without one, it’ll move on. Forget about you.
While fierce, the forces behind the Shroud aren’t ones for wasted energy.
Consider it a cloaking spell for the spirit, not the body.
” She turned to Cillian. “I’ll need a mortar and pestle and a glass of hot water. ”
Cillian darted for the door. “On it.”
Another cough attack seized me, this one far more painful than the previous. Like my lungs were on fire.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Gianna cooed and lifted her hands above me. A familiar light—the same as my own Tinctured magic—burst to life in her palms. “Let me help you. Focus on the pain; help guide me to it.”
I focused on the sensation of a hot poker in my throat. There, it was right there, dead center. Heat radiated from Gianna’s hands, and where she touched, the fire within eased ever so slightly. With each pass, it lessened.
“I’m nullifying it until Cillian gets back. When he does, I can mix up a tincture to counteract it indefinitely,” she said, waving her palms over me in steady circles.
I let my eyes fall shut, relishing the relief as I tried to quiet my racing mind. Breathe. This isn’t how you go. Hell, I’d take death by Bethesda’s own hand over this. At least then I’d go down fighting.
Cillian flooded back into the room, a steaming mug and marble bowl in his hands. “Will this work, Gia?”
“Perfect, thank you.” She pulled her hands away, the burn in my chest rearing back to life all over again.
I sat to cough, blood flooding into my mouth.
I fought back the second cough rising up just behind, but with no luck, and my mouthful spewed across the duvet in a crimson spatter, the remnants dribbling down my chin.
Oh, Gods. Cillian rushed to wipe my face while Gia plucked bits of herbs from where they lay at my side.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, reminding himself just as much as me. “Gia will fix this, just hold on a little longer, baby.”
Gia tossed the herbs into the marble bowl along with a handful of salt and began to grind with the pestle.
The magic in her palms brightened and trickled down the pestle, mixing with the ingredients.
A hefty sigh, and she began to chant. “Soul unseen, soul unbound, released it be through taste and sound.”
Twice more she repeated it before she motioned for Cillian to retrieve the mug.
One hand clamped over her talisman, she dumped the ground concoction in, and guided me to sit.
Every muscle in my body screamed, but I managed to prop myself up enough to chug the hot mixture.
Earth, sea, and wind slid over my tongue, their lacy touch hitting home in my gut.
The room sat still until I’d finished every last drop.
With a pat on my back, Gia proclaimed, “So it is, so it shall be.”
And the fire, the blood, the pain just … stopped.
The next morning came quickly. I blinked into the overcast morning light, pulled my arms free from under the fresh blanket tucked around me, and rubbed my sore throat.
I shuffled to sit, which proved easier than the last time I’d tried, though my muscles still ached.
A few feet away, someone sat facing the garden.
The silver sheen of their hair gleamed in what little sunshine peeked through the storm clouds, the few features I could make out unfamiliar.
I turned to search for Cillian, Serenity, even Gia. But they were nowhere to be found.
“Uh … hello?” I muttered and crossed my legs under the covers. “Who are you? What are you doing in my—”
A dry snicker cut me off. Just one. “Really? Forgot about me that quick, huh?”
My entire body stilled. That voice …
Slow and steady, I hung my feet over the bed and pushed to stand.
A dumb decision, I realized, as I fell to the floor in a crumpled mess.
A hand looped around my arm, pulling me up to place me back in bed, and then I saw it.
Quite possibly the most beautiful and confusing sight I’d ever seen. “R-Roxie?”
She smiled down at me. “In the flesh.”
I sat up so fast my head spun, but I didn’t care, my hands prodding her face, her arms, her shoulders, running through her silver hair, and a gasp slipped through me.
Solid. This was … real? She was real. I looked into her familiar eyes to find a halo of thick gold encircling her brown irises. “But … How?”
She moved to sit at my side but pulled her hand from mine. “I’m told I have you to thank.”
“Me?” My brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
She snapped her head toward me. “What do I mean? Hmm, well, let’s see. How about, magic exists? Or what about, there’s an entire world called the Shroud you’ve been visiting every night since you got here that I knew nothing about? And how about you and Cillian, huh?”
My mouth went dry. “How … how do you know all that?”
“Apparently when you die, those little details are filled in for you.” She turned back toward the window, lip quivering.
“You know what the worst part about it all is? I would have known weeks ago. But you … you erased my memory. Memories that could have saved me, Fey. If I’d known all this existed: magic, Bethesda, the Lores. If I’d known that you—”
Her words tangled in tears, catching in her throat.
My heart broke as I watched her weep. I wanted so badly to reach out to her, to hold her, but she was right.
The person who’d been there for me, cared for me, comforted and supported me …
I’d lied to. Manipulated. She had absolutely every right to be angry, to hate me.
“I … I am so, so sorry, Rox.” My hands clenched in the sheets, warmth spreading behind my face. “It’s shitty, totally inexcusable, but … I really was trying to protect you.”
“By lying to me? That’s not protection, Fey, that’s evading. You know that better than anyone!”
I bit my lip, but the tears came anyway. “You’re right. I have no excuse. I should have told you. About everything. I just, I hardly understood all this myself until recently, and if you’d seen what I’ve seen—”
“So what, you think I’m weak? Is that what it is?” She stood, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“What? No, I—”
“And what about you, huh? I mean, a fucking nosebleed? Come on! You didn’t even give me the chance to be there for you. To help.”
“I just wanted you safe,” I sobbed. “I swear.”
“And look where that got us, huh? Me, dead. And you—”
The look on her face terrified me to my core. “What, Rox … And I, what?”
She sat on the edge of the bed again and took my hand in hers this time. Her eyes misty, she whispered, “You really don’t remember?”
My mind reeled back to that night. The dots started to connect, puzzle pieces clicking together in my mind.
When I saw her lying there. The desperation and the sickening darkness I’d felt rile up in me.
The way my magic had warred within me after, and how Serenity had awoken me after waiting so long for me to simply remember on my own.
I looked up, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I used Baneful magic …”
“Yeah.” Roxie slid into the bed next to me, pulling the covers up over our heads as she had times before. A safe place, just for us. Tears welled in her eyes, matching my own. “You brought me back, but not in the way I wish.”
Necromancy … this meant I was no better than Bethesda.
No better than the Lores. In desperation, I was willing to do anything to bring back someone I loved, including wield the darkness I’d been working so hard to defeat.
But as I looked deep into Roxie’s eyes, felt her fingers lace through my mind, my magic swirled about.
Even the little ooze of cool steel I now recognized as Baneful sitting rock-heavy in my stomach shivered.
“Well, I don’t regret it. I’d do it all over again to have you here with me.” I took her face in my hands. “This battle is and has always been mine. I just wanted to keep you safe, and I failed. I am so, so sorry, Rox.”
Her eyes bounced between mine. “Never again. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more choosing for me what I can and cannot handle, do you hear me? We do this together.”
I nodded, a knot hardening in my throat.
“Promise me,” she said, stern.
“I promise. Never again.”
She covered my hand on her cheek with her own. “From here on out, this is our fight.”
Light built where our skin met, but not my own.
It was … it was hers. I sucked in a deep breath, a single sob returning.
My God, it was the most stunning shade of pastel teal, her light.
It pulsed while mine swam, our magic dancing together briefly before hers dissipated back into her palm.
Here I was wondering who else at the institute was like me, like Cillian and I …
I should have seen it. Felt it. Known it.
Of course, she had magic, her light had radiated and called to me since the moment we’d met.
My beautiful, powerful, incredible friend.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, lip quivering. “You are beautiful.”
She rested her forehead against mine and repeated, “Our fight.”
I pulled her in, hugging her tight. “Our fight.”