Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Thorne entered Marina’s house, and the silence assaulted him like a wave of mourning crashing through the room despite their victory.
It didn’t feel like a win.
Silas slumped on the couch, his gaze lost and distant.
At the table, Marina carefully dabbed a wet rag on her shoulder.
The bedroom door stood ajar, candlelight flickering across the hall. Adrian’s voice murmured softly inside.
Marina glanced up as Thorne entered the kitchen. “Where’s Gisela?”
“We had a fight.” Thorne took his sword off his back, laying it on the table.
Marina’s nod of understanding was almost imperceptible. “You should tend to that,” she said, gesturing to the gash on his chest. “It’ll fester.”
Thorne twisted open the jar of hylja and pressed it over the wound. Cool spread beneath his palm. He handed the jar to Marina. “Use this for your shoulder. Gisela’s orders.”
Marina arched a brow but took it.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Adrian stepped into the room, eyes tired, shoulders tight. He didn’t sit—only paused long enough to glance toward the door behind him.
“She still out?” Marina asked, wiping her hands on a towel.
Adrian nodded once. “Yeah. Breathing’s steady.”
“Good.” Thorne lowered himself into a chair. “Is Silas okay?” he whispered.
“I think the fight drained him,” she said quietly. “His weakened power is taking a toll . . . he feels like he failed us.”
Adrian finally sat, his body angled toward the hall. “No one failed.” His hands pulled at his trousers. “We weren’t ready for that.”
Marina studied him. “Is she going to be okay?”
Adrian exhaled. “She has to be.”
Marina opened her mouth, then stopped.
“I shouldn’t have brought her,” he said. “She hasn’t pushed her power like that in a long time. I told myself we’d be careful.” He glanced toward the hall again.
Thorne watched him closely. “You didn’t know what we’d face.”
“No,” Adrian said. “But I knew the risk. She’s not like the rest of us. If something happens to her—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “There’s no replacing what she is.”
Silas shifted on the couch, his attention sharpening.
“She made her own choice,” Marina said.
Adrian nodded, but the tension didn’t leave him. “I know, but that doesn’t make it easier to live with.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m going back in.” He didn’t wait for a response before heading down the hall.
“Look, we’ve all been through a lot over the past few days. We need rest and then we need to figure out where to go from here,” Marina said, scooting back from her chair. “I’m going to find Gisela.” She stood and walked out the front door, leaving Silas and Thorne alone.
Thorne moved to sit beside Silas. Silas had been there for him when he needed it most, the least he could do was return the favor.
“You know, a wise man once told me that you shouldn’t let your fear of failure define you. You should use it to drive you forward,” Thorne said.
Silas met Thorne’s gaze, his heavy eyes lightening. “I’m tired. Not having my full power . . . it’s not right.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” Silas asked, skepticism in his voice.
Thorne leaned back on the couch, resting his head against the cushion. “Not exactly,” he said. “But I know what it’s like to feel inadequate. We couldn’t have done what we did without you.”
Silas nodded. “I really needed to hear that.”
“We all do sometimes.”
“What happened between you and Gisela?”
Thorne sighed. “I let my anger talk first.”
Silas gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’ve come so far. You two will work it out. You’re allowed to make mistakes. Be aware and fix them.”
“I think she wants space right now.”
“Then give her that,” Silas rose from the couch, stretching his back. “I’m going to get some rest and recharge.”
Thorne watched as Silas headed toward the bedroom. When the door shut behind him, Thorne was left alone in the quiet of the house. Despite his effort to stay awake for Gisela, exhaustion took hold of him, and he drifted into a restless sleep.
Gisela sat by the water, leaning against Terranox’s warm side, her fingers digging into the damp sand.
Marina scanned the shoreline. When she spotted Gisela, she walked over, her footsteps barely making a sound on the cold, wet shore. Marina settled beside her, the two of them staring out at the ocean.
They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of waves pulling in and out, leaving seaweed and shells in their wake.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever look at the ocean the same way again,” Marina said. “I know my men are out there . . .” She shook her head, her voice breaking. “It’s not fair.”
“No,” Gisela said. “It isn’t.”
“We’ll have to find someone to check in on Eamon’s grandmother. Maybe Liana and Isla can help.”
Gisela nodded, saying nothing.
“Do you think they hated me for it?” Marina asked. “Before they died?”
Gisela turned to her, resting a hand on Marina’s knee. “No. They would never blame you for what happened. They followed you because they believed in you and they believed in your mother.”
“I wish she were here,” Marina whispered.
“I would’ve loved to meet her.”
Marina let out a weak breath that resembled a laugh. “You two would’ve talked about plants and shit for hours. She wasn’t an herbalist, but she always made sure we had jars of that stuff to cover our marks.” She glanced at her shoulder. “Which healed me, by the way.”
Gisela laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, the stuff that’s kept us alive all this time?”
“I don’t have much of her stash left,” Marina said. “But I don’t think it’s going to matter anymore. They’ll find out about us soon enough.”
“You never learned how to make it?”
“No. But she kept the ingredients in a notebook.”
Gisela sat a little straighter. The memory of her dream flashed—the ingredients listed neatly in a notebook. “Can I see it?”
“The notebook?”
“Yes. Do you still have it?”
“I took a lot of our things from Rockridge before I moved here. It’s at the house.”
Gisela pressed her fingers to her chin. It couldn’t possibly be the same notebook . . . but she wanted to see it anyway. Helena’s trusted herbalist. The one who had taught her to make the hylja. Larz had said they were likely executed.
“So, when are you going to patch things up with flamebrain?” Marina asked hesitantly. “He’s all worked up over your fight.”
Gisela shook the lingering thoughts from her mind. “He’s struggling. We all are. He lashed out at me but I’m not angry with him. I wanted to clear my head.”
Marina exhaled, long and slow. “Thank The Six. The last thing we need is a moodier Thorne.”