Chapter 21 Seven White Wolves
Seven White Wolves
The sound of mumbling made its way into Aurora’s mind, waking her.
Her head felt as if it weighed as much as a boulder, and not a second after she woke, the burning sensation came back with startling force.
She cried out, but it sounded more like a whimper; her voice was hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in days.
She tried to get her eyes to open, and after several seconds, they finally obeyed.
Aurora blinked, expecting to see firelight dancing over the walls and marigold silk hanging above her head.
But instead, there was stone above her and hard earth beneath her.
Every surface was covered in ice except for the wildflowers upon which she lay, and she realized in a panic that she was in the cave she had found when she was a child, the one she had shared with Farren.
Her head was throbbing, and she was sure her fever had set in because while every part of her burned, she was freezing.
Aurora tried to put the pieces together, to remember how she had gotten to the cave and who she was with, but her mind was as dark as a moonless sky.
Then, in a rush, visions of the Sun passing though the Starmaker filled her head, and she winced at the memory.
She saw the light and the Starmaker’s magic filling her body, saw herself barreling through the air and crashing to the snow-covered earth.
She saw the Starmaker stumble, then collapse in a motionless heap.
She had to get to him.
Aurora pushed herself onto her elbows, squeezing her eyes shut against the way the cave spun. It was as if the world had tilted while she’d slept and she had to relearn its axis.
“Hello?” she asked, the word barely a whisper. She tried again, this time louder: “Hello?”
The mumbling stopped, and a moment later Aurora saw two legs in the opening of the cave. Farren stooped and came inside.
“Hi, Rora.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice straining with the effort. She wasn’t sure who she had been expecting, but it wasn’t Farren, and her fear gave way to frustration. “Where is the Starmaker?”
“After he hurled you across the glacier, I stopped keeping tabs on him.” Farren’s voice was even, but there was tension in it that wasn’t like him.
Aurora realized it had been Farren she’d seen in the woods, and she wished she had taken the time to investigate before pulling in the light.
If she hadn’t gotten distracted, she would be back at the palace with the Starmaker right now; she would know the state of his health and not be worrying for him.
She tried to sit up, but her entire body revolted, and she slammed back down.
It felt as if a fire was raging inside her, and she remembered what Ina had told her about the pain the Starmaker felt when he was late to pull in the light.
Panic rose within her as she realized how very far away she was from the healing magic of the castle and how very little magic ran through the ground this far out.
“How long have I been here?” Aurora asked, once again trying to sit. Farren rushed over and helped her up, but she pushed him away, not wanting him near her. She shoved her hair out of her face, waiting for his answer.
“Two days,” Farren said.
“Two days!” Aurora tried to stand, and after several attempts, she finally got to her feet.
She stumbled out of the cave, bracing herself against the stone, and looked up at the sky, trying to determine the time of day.
It was dark out, with no trace of the Sun.
“Has there been light the past two days?” Aurora asked, holding her breath.
Farren didn’t answer her right away, and Aurora couldn’t help but feel that he was doing it on purpose. “Yes,” he finally said.
Aurora breathed out as she was flooded with relief.
The Starmaker was okay. But it was surely not easy for him to pull the light on his own, not with so much of his magic living in Aurora’s veins.
It was then that a second unwelcome thought entered her mind, nagging at her: he had told her she needed to make more progress on their way to the glacier that day, and anger rose inside her as she wondered if he had deliberately pushed her too hard—if he had been the one to overwhelm her with pain, and not the Sun, as she had assumed.
“I must get back to the palace at once,” Aurora said. She retied her cloak so it hung close to her body, but when she tried to take a step, the spinning returned. She leaned against the mouth of the cave and wiped the sweat from her brow before trying once more, but Farren stepped in front of her.
“You can’t go back there,” he said. “He hurt you, and I will not let it happen again.”
“Does anyone know you’re here? I thought I heard whispers when I woke—who were you speaking with?”
Farren’s mouth set in a hard line. “No one. I tend to talk to myself when I’m in stressful situations.”
“You’re in a stressful situation?” Aurora shook her head, looking from Farren to the path beyond, wondering how she would get back to the castle. “I am not some damsel who needs rescuing. I am the Starmaker Rising, and the only thing I need you to do is get out of my way so that I may leave.”
“No,” Farren said with resolve.
Aurora tried to stay calm, but between the pain and the fever, she felt as if she was moments away from losing consciousness again. She stood up straighter, trying not to show how weak she was.
“Why are you doing this? We spoke after the wedding, and I thought you understood. What else do you need?”
“I accept that we are no longer together, but does that mean I’m not to look after you anymore?”
“Yes!” Aurora said, her voice rising. “I’m no longer your concern, and I don’t need you looking after me.”
“Clearly you do,” Farren retorted. “You’re hurt, Rora. Badly. You were unresponsive for two days, and you looked so awful that I thought I’d have to inform your family of your demise.”
“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps carting me off into the woods and tossing me on the ground in an ice cave may have made things worse?” Aurora asked, impatience sharpening the edges of her words.
“I am well cared for at the palace, and while I admit that this magic is painful and harder to master than I thought, it is not threatening my life.” Aurora narrowed her eyes, fixing Farren with a glare.
“At least not when I’m using it regularly.
It will kill me if I fail to practice, which I should have been doing the past two days. ”
“Or perhaps that is a clever lie the Starmaker told you to get you to stay at the castle,” Farren said. “Look at you—you can hardly stand. Do you truly believe this magic is helping you?”
It was at that point Aurora would have appreciated a mirror, or perhaps some clear water to gaze into, but since neither option was available, she could only assume that she looked terrible.
“It is not your job to protect me, and I would very much like to return to the castle,” she said. “Yours are not the actions of a man in love, and I have no desire to be caught up in whatever twisted logic you have used to justify your behavior. You’re better than this, Farren.”
“I was better than this. Then my fiancée left me to marry a total stranger without so much as a second thought.”
Aurora let out an exasperated sigh. The spinning was getting worse, and her hand shook as she gripped the stone, scared she would fall over without the extra support.
She was in dire need of a hot bath and a warm meal, and while she spoke with confidence, she had no idea how she’d gather the strength to get back to the castle alone.
“First of all, the Starmaker and I are not married, though that has nothing to do with you, as I believe I made clear.” Farren looked away when she said it, hurt, but Aurora had run out of patience.
“Second, this isn’t about who I marry. It’s about the magic in my veins and this mountain and every single person who calls Reverie home.
I didn’t choose this, but I accept it. You need to do the same. ”
“Then help me,” Farren said, looking uncomfortable.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” Aurora winced as the burning sensation got stronger, but she tried not to let it show.
She was angry, and even though Farren had told her that the Starmaker was still bringing in daylight, Aurora was worried for him.
The last she’d seen, he’d been crumpled on the snow, just out of reach. She wanted—no, needed—to see him.
Aurora tried to map out the route from the ice cave to the castle in her mind, but it was far and she was weak.
And the thought of walking through the dark forest, where she knew the Frost was active, sent a shiver down her spine—she had no protection against it except for the magic in her veins, and she was in no position to use it. Still, she had to try.
“I need to see that you’re happy and safe,” Farren said.
“I don’t owe you that.” Aurora felt dizzy. “You are not the judge of my happiness or my safety.” She paused, looking at the cave and the surrounding trees. “Clearly.”
“You are safer here with me than in the middle of a glacier, being thrown across the ice.”
Aurora closed her eyes. She was done arguing with him. “You may write your headlines and drown in your bitterness, but you are never to come for me again.”
With that, she gathered every ounce of strength she had, intending to pass Farren and begin her long walk to the castle. But as soon as she took her first step, her body gave out and she collapsed on the ground.
Farren rushed to her, taking hold of her hand. “You need a doctor,” he said, frantically looking around, as if he was finally questioning whether isolating the Starmaker Rising was truly a good idea.
“What I need is to go to the palace and use my magic,” Aurora managed to get out, propping herself upright. She was sweating too much, and she could feel damp beads lining her forehead and covering the back of her neck.