Chapter 50
I’m out of tinctures, so I’m left with herbal tea to take the edge off my headaches. It doesn’t do much to help with the usual dizziness, but Alys exhausted a lot of her healing magic after the ambush, so I’d rather give her time to recover.
I imagine that the cavern is rather silent right now. Chiyo and Ava are on opposite sides, Sloan is nowhere in sight—patrolling, perhaps—and Osheen, surprisingly, is chatting with Isobel.
“How do you feel?” Alys signs as she passes me a small copper cup wrapped in cloth, so I don’t burn my hand.
I shrug a shoulder. My chest feels overstuffed, and my jaw aches from keeping it clenched to suppress more silent tears. I’ve already shed so many.
“Any pain?”
I swallow thickly and blink away more tears that brim.
“Oh, sweetling. I wish I could heal your heart right now more than anything else. We’ll figure something out.
You know Tiernan is tough. I’m certain they already regret having him in their custody.
” She winks, but I cannot find it in myself to indulge in the mild lightheartedness. “It will be alright.”
Alys, bless her, seems to understand that I want to be left alone.
She cannot be sure that he’ll be alright.
We don’t know what the Zenith is capable of or why exactly they want me, but Iywan had told Carys back when she was being tortured in Paramount that they wanted to open the Veil.
If that is the circumstance, perhaps it’s the same reason they want me, given that I share Carys’s bloodline.
What will happen when they realize Tiernan isn’t the person they seek? Will they kill him?
My chest grows tighter, my stomach roils. I close my eyes as darkness begins to infiltrate my vision. Breathe. I force myself to draw in a breath, to hope with everything I have that if he left this world, I would feel it. The same way he had faith that I would feel if Carys had been killed.
But right now, I don’t have the same faith in myself that he did in me.
We set off again under the cover of night, this time taking a path north of the Wastelands, heading toward Dubh Carrig.
With us all so worn out from travel, the major setback with Siad Nahar, and Tiernan being captured, we agree that it would be far too risky to cross over into Mainland right now.
That with the Zenith and the Purists at large, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
It still feels unnatural being atop Ghendor by myself, but mercifully, the horse seems to sense my grief and takes on an uncharacteristic gentleness.
By sunrise, we stop in an area secluded by trees to rest and eat something.
Chiyo converses with Isobel and Sloan, but very obviously avoids even looking at Ava or Osheen.
Ava stands as I bite into a too-acidic bilberry. I track her steps across the small space. She walks not with her usual grace or ease but clearly favoring one leg, and her face is pinched as if she’s the one who ate the berry.
Alys is snoozing against the trunk of a tree, and the others aren’t paying attention.
In fact, Chiyo is intentionally not looking Ava’s way.
I pop another terrible bilberry into my mouth and set the rest aside on a cloth before standing slowly.
My body feels battered; my head takes longer than usual to adjust, dizziness lingering.
But as soon as I can move without a huge risk of collapsing, I hurry to Ava.
“You’re hurt,” I say just before she can disappear behind the thick shrubs.
Surprise sparks in her eyes, but she denies it. “I’m fine. Just going to piss, if you don’t mind.”
With a sigh, I turn away from her, but I don’t leave. There aren’t many trodden paths near us; I suppose many don’t frequent this area. At this point, I wish we’d never left the Verge. None of us would be hurt, and Tiernan would still be here.
My throat is just starting to close when Ava steps out from the bushes again, tightening her sword belt around her waist over her leather vest. Her lips are pinched tight with what I’m certain is pain, but she faces me with her usual bravado.
“Has Alys healed you?” I sign to her.
“I’m fine,” she signs back. She takes one step and winces, glancing sidelong at me.
“Oh, clearly.” I fix her with a look of cynicism.
She waves me off and walks back toward the group again, trying her hardest not to hobble.
And I thought I hated accepting help from others.
She might be stubborn, but I also know that she never turns down a challenge.
“Ava!” I call, pulling a dagger from my waist in front of everyone.
She turns and I point the dagger toward her.
She rolls her eyes, laughing dryly. “You cannot be serious.”
All eyes fall on us. My own gaze falters, meeting Chiyo’s as she rises with a brow quirked.
“I challenge you,” I say, hoping I sound sure of myself as I tuck my dagger back into the holster and stride toward Ava.
She gets into a fighting stance. Of course she does.
My weary muscles quiver as I do the same.
Without giving her any time or announcing the start, I throw a punch.
Ava moves to dodge and sets her left foot down.
I barely weave from her strike and throw another punch her way.
But as she ducks, I summon my shadows, a ribbon of darkness wrapping around her right foot and forcing her to set it down to regain her balance.
She cries out in pain and goes down, catching herself on her hands.
Chiyo rushes toward her, followed by Alys who’s wide awake by now.
I take a knee in front of Ava as she sits on her bum. Both hands cling to her right shin. I move aside to give Alys room as she kneels beside Ava. “Let me see,” she says.
Anger flares in Ava’s eyes. “No,” she says as she releases her shin and scoots back away from her mother. “I’m fine.”
The hurt is clear on Alys’s face, but she doesn’t back off. She doesn’t move forward either, but she says, “Remove your boot.”
“I don’t have to do anything you say.”
I look back and forth between them.
Alys mumbles something—I’m certain it’s not the Common Tongue—and it’s clear that Ava understands it. But she doesn’t relent; she only frowns harder.
“Ava,” Alys says, her face set.
“I don’t want you to touch me, and you have no right to command me. I’m not a child. You already missed those years.”
Chiyo’s eyes soften for the briefest moment, but then she says, “Lugda’s hells, Ava. We need you in fighting condition, and you can’t do a thing on that foot. Now take the damn boot off!”
Ava meets Chiyo’s gaze, many unspoken words between them. At last, Ava huffs and turns to look at her mother again, nodding her head subtly. Chiyo’s shoulders slump with relief.
Carefully, Ava unlaces her boot, gritting her teeth as she very slowly removes it from her foot.
“Socks too,” Alys says.
Ava seems to hold her breath as she slowly pulls her sock off, revealing an ankle triple the size and deep angry purple against her warm brown skin.
Chiyo flinches noticeably, and Isobel appears out of nowhere to look on. Her face crumples as Ava closes her eyes.
“Ava!” Chiyo exclaims. “You were just going to keep your mouth shut about this?”
“It’s broken,” Alys says. “And … more complex than that. Do you feel any burning or numbness above or below the injury?”
“Burning,” Ava says, looking more annoyed than anything by now.
“I’m going to have to reset the bone. It’s not going to be pleasant.”
“Just get it over with.”
Alys nods. She places her palm over the top of Ava’s foot, and the other above her ankle. Her hands glow with her healing powers, a warm blue, and Ava’s hand shoots out to grab something, anything. Chiyo catches Ava’s hand, and her face contorts as Ava squeezes.
It’s over an instant later, and Ava’s body relaxes.
Alys gives her an apologetic look. “Now, I’m going to heal as much of the internal damage as I can.”
“No!” Ava says.
Alys’s large chest expands before she releases a breath. “Listen—”
“I just mean, don’t use up all your energy on me.”
A pained smile blooms on Alys’s round face. “It’s the least I can do,” she says. Her gentle gaze remains on her daughter.
“Bare minimum then,” Ava says at last. She manages a small smile before seeming to realize she’s still holding Chiyo’s hand. She quickly releases her grip as Chiyo’s cheeks redden.
She pats Ava’s shoulder and says, “I’ll fetch you some water.”
Ava nods while Alys finishes patching her up. Alys wraps her ankle firmly with bandages for continued support, and once we’ve all eaten something, we take two brief shifts napping, ensure that our horses seem ready, then we set off on our journey again.
Overnight, I try again and again to dreamwalk to Tiernan, but each time, I fail. As I curl up in blankets that faintly smell of him, I cannot stop the tears that fall. Please, Tiernan. Please be alive.
We’re underneath dense trees, pure darkness around us, but I sit up and pull the moonstone from my pocket. I run my finger over the smooth surface and close my eyes. It hums and warms against my skin. I close my eyes and focus on one particular person.
I envision her face—I reach out for steel and stone and defiance. Rather than conjuring a certain image, I try to envision her surroundings, and I’m surprised to be staring at a very familiar room.
Textured burnt sienna paint, dark blue and copper tiles, a hearth, and a large desk fill the space around me. This is the room that had been mine in Paramount almost four months ago.
I’m suddenly peering over a shoulder, watching a drawing materialize. That tree. The one from the dreams I shared with Winnie.
I speak her name, and she jumps to her feet, spinning to face me. Her caramel eyes widen, and as soon as her hands clench into fists, I unleash ribbons of shadows to bind her. I close my eyes and picture us elsewhere.