Knee bouncing impatiently, Cypherion sat before the dining room’s lone window, my sister, Erista, and Lyria attempting to distract him as he nervously awaited Malakai’s party’s return—with Vale, hopefully.
Thanks to Tolek tossing me on his horse with him, I was able to use my Angellight to heal my injured ankle almost all the way as we rode back to the inn, despite the rapid pace we kept to get the others back quickly.
I wasn’t quite sure how the magic worked, but I tucked away the knowledge that it could both heal an injury—which I’dlearned before—and singe the dead. That one sent a chill down to my bones not even Angellight could warm.
I grabbed Rina’s hand as she flitted by, and her gaze snapped to me. “Thank you,” I said. “How can I help?”
She pursed her lips, evaluating her two patients. “I need to get the splinters out of Lancaster’s wound.” She dropped her voice, frustration burning in her narrowed stare. “Mora’s is worse, though. It’s…it’s nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“Show me,” I said.
With Tolek bracing me, I limped over my sore ankle, stopping before the fae.
Rina spoke with calm authority. “The blood isn’t clotting. But it’s running more…congealed than it should.” She dropped her voice. “It’s almost like poison was in that bite.”
The fae female tried to suppress a shiver. “It’s fine.” A sheen of sweat gleamed on her forehead, her skin gray.
“Mora,” Rina said softly, nervously, “I’m going to try to put together a tonic for you, but I may need to get more supplies.”
Through slitted eyes, Mora tossed a glance her brother’s way. “Fix him first.”
“No,” he argued. “You’re much worse.”
“Fix him”—she inhaled sharply—“then he can use his magic to keep me stable while you figure out a remedy.”
Rina sighed, looking to Lancaster. “She has a point.”
“Fine,” Lancaster grumbled. “Be quick.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Santorina assured with as little bite as possible as she gathered supplies.
I evaluated the ebbing veins through Mora’s shoulder, how they pressed against her skin with a sentience rarely seen.
“Those corpses seemed as if they were enchanted by something,” I muttered to Tolek, not bothering to drop my voice since Mora would hear regardless. Damn fae senses.
“Valyrie must have charmed them to guard the power she left behind,” Tol said. “Until the chosen arrived and fought through that twisted version of the races. The physical duels. The metaphorical poison if you grabbed the emblem yourself. The defense of the Angel.”
I blew out a breath. Ithadall been right there, every stage, but not in a way we could have expected. “How did Annellius do all of this?”
“Perhaps he wasn’t alone,” he offered.
But Vale had seen him in one of her readings, on his knees and begging. Very much isolated. Which meant those who had helped him hadn’t survived.
The wound on Mora’s shoulder beat.
I didn’t want to do it. I didn’ttrust it. But the fate of what might happen if I remained complacent flashed before my eyes. This horrid bite of the dead could infect Mora, her queen’s bargain tethering her to life until it tore her apart, her spirit remaining restless in our land.
Though I still did not want to hand the emblems over to the fae, I couldn’t allow Mora to suffer.
“Can I try something?” I asked.
Her eyes were closed, but without even asking what, she nodded. Whether it was implicit trust or the verge of unconsciousness, I wasn’t sure.
Carefully, slowly, I called up Damien’s strand of Angellight—the one I was the most connected to. It pooled in the air before me as I watched the shimmering layer of gold with a steady focus. Tolek and Lancaster did, too, the latter guarded.
This magic had healed me—but the untamed side of it had also destroyed. As I directed golden light toward Mora, I prayed to the Angel it stemmed from that it would behave.
It hesitated at first—as if somethingmorethan a lingering Angel charm infected the fae’s skin—and sniffed around the wound like an unsure pup. Then, it soared into her.
