“What did you mean yesterday, when you said you couldn’t feel anything through the ground? Was it because of the ice?”
Dorian shook his head, his features easing back into relaxed lines.
“Here in Durne, we actually live underground. Earth, stone—we’re naturally strongest with it. If you train right, you can sense something coming towards you by listening to the earth. The remmiken flies, so the ground wasn’t able to tell me anything.”
Tonya brushed back a few strands of hair that escaped from her braid which had somehow still stayed in place for the last few days. Matilde must have her own special magic.
“Are you trained for earth? August said he was strongest with animals. What’s your magic strongest with?”
His face lost some of its lighthearted expression.
“Healing,” he finally said.
Making everything worse again. Just stop talking.
“I wish I could use my magic for something,” she said. Why can’t I stop talking? He doesn’t want to hear this either!
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
“There’s not. I’ve tried.” Tonya crossed her arms, automatically preparing for pity or condescension.
Instead, he pulled off a glove and held out his hand.
“Can I?” he asked, much like he had the day of the council.
She slowly placed her hand in his calloused palm, her mouth tucking into a frown. He spoke some words in a lilting cadence she didn’t quite understand, like they were mumbled, despite how clear she heard them.
The knots inside tugged in response, then eased a little. Her eyes widened in surprise. He glanced up, his eyes sparkling in amusement at her reaction. She extended her other hand towards the snow. Find the holes in the warding.
She closed her eyes. It felt like Dorian had opened the gaps a little wider.
She caught a whisper in the breeze beckoning her toward fjords and glaciers and mountains. She whispered back and a tingle pricked her fingers. Hesitantly, she opened one eye and saw ice crystals dancing in an invisible wind and the ice thinned under her feet to expose hints of green.
It worked!
“Tonya!” Diane exclaimed in delight, breaking her concentration. The knots tightened again and the ice fell.
But the spot of green remained, a bit of hope in the frozen waste she’d created.
She turned to Dorian and caught her breath. A full smile had broken out over his face, a bit lopsided, but triumphant. For me. The heat returned to her face at the realization. She pulled her hand away as Diane clapped her hands.
“That was amazing!”
“I don’t even know how I did it.” Tonya rubbed her hands together, trying to remember the way the magic had felt. She looked at Dorian again. The smile had faded back to the corners of his lips, but still danced around his eyes.
“What did you do?”
“Started off by saying I wasn’t going to hurt you.” Dorian pulled his glove back on. “Then tried the strongest anti-warding spell I know.”
Tonya’s heart fell. If that was the strongest spell he knew, and it had only barely suppressed the warding enough for her to do that small bit of magic…
“At least you could practice a little, right?” Diane nudged Tonya’s arm, her voice still bright and cheerful.
Dorian shrugged. “I could keep trying to see if there’s anything I can do to let you use it more.”
Tonya’s heart flipped a beat. “You would?”
He tilted his head, puzzled amusement taking over.
“Yes.” He said it like it was the most natural option in the world.
He means it. A grin spread across her face before she could stop it. He actually wants to—can—help me. I’d be able to do some magic.
Dorian tipped a nod and moved away. Tonya propped her hands on her hips, standing a little taller. Suddenly her aching feet and the miles ahead of them didn’t matter. Even frequent slips and slides along the sides of the hills couldn’t dim her new confidence.
Until the shriek sounded.
August whirled around, focused up on the sky. He drew his sword.
“Run!”
Diane grabbed Tonya’s hand and hauled her into a dead sprint. A sharp wind knocked them off their feet and Tonya’s knees scraped against the ice.
The remmiken landed in a spray of white. A narrowed head and snout like a sea dragon swung low on a long neck. Taloned feet gripped the ground, and giant wings spread wide to balance it. Its dull brown hide shimmered in the sunlight. Saliva dripped from curved fangs, sizzling when it hit the snow.
It opened its wide maw and shrieked. Tonya stumbled back, but Diane remained frozen in place. Her staff trembled in her hand as she stared at the creature. Then her face went slack. The remmiken made a noise like a purr of contentment as it turned red eyes to Diane.
“Make her look away!” August landed in front of Diane, a pair of dusky brown wings spread wide.
Dorian stepped up beside him, unsheathing the weapons strapped to his back. He slammed the blunt ends together with a sharp word of command, transforming it into a double-bladed staff.
He twisted it in his hand, bringing it to his side. He and August exchanged a brief glance.
“Take left?” August asked.
Dorian nodded. “Tonya, you and Diane stay back. And don’t look at its eyes.”
Tonya nodded dumbly, even though they couldn’t see her. Her heart froze in her chest as they charged forward.
Diane took a step, tugging on her arm, and Tonya remembered what August had told her to do. She pushed in front of Diane who still stared vacantly at the remmiken.
“Diane!” Tonya shook her shoulders. Nothing. She placed her hands on Diane’s cheeks and forced the young woman to look into her eyes. “Diane! Look at me!”
Diane’s pupils dilated, then shrank as she focused on Tonya with a gasp. “What…?”
Her gaze slid past Tonya and her eyes widened. They both turned to watch the battle.
Dorian moved in a series of fluid sweeps and slashes, twisting the double-bladed staff around himself with ease, fending off the remmiken as it snarled and struck at him like a sea snake. A few feet away, August pushed himself to his feet, straightening his wings with a snap.
The remmiken pumped its wings, the force of it pummeling Dorian back. A pair of short, broad wings exploded from his back, giving him traction to remain on his feet.
August darted forward under the remmiken’s wings as they raised again. He stabbed up with his sword, eliciting a scream of rage from the beast. It swiped toward him. August ducked to the ground, rolling out of the talons’ reach. Dorian extended his hand, clenching his fist in a grabbing motion, and pulled back with a shout.
Tonya watched in shock as the remmiken’s wing crumpled. Part of it broke off, disintegrating like crumbling sand.
The creature howled and spun, lashing out with a barbed tail. It moved too fast for Dorian to react, and the tail caught him across the arm, flinging him to the ground to slide a few feet.
August charged again with a shout, dodging the slashing talons and landing multiple blows of his own. Dust dribbled from each wound he cut in the beast’s hide.
Dorian struggled to his feet, keeping his arm tucked close to his chest. He hit his knee again. Tonya cast a glance at the remmiken, wondering if she dared run over to help him. August cried out, stumbling a step before taking the remmiken’s head in his chest, throwing him back several feet.
The creature snarled in triumph and whipped towards Tonya. Fear rooted her to the ground. Some tiny bit of herself tried to fight back, and she reached a trembling hand for her knife. Diane brought her staff up in front of her body, a small whimper escaping.
It prowled forward, tail swishing like one of the village cats she’d seen stalking a bird. It rumbled deep in its chest, bringing its snout closer and exhaling a sickly-sweet breath over them.
Diane yelled, a surprisingly warlike sound, and lashed out with her staff, cracking against it
s teeth and breaking one of the larger fangs off in a puff of dust. Its eyes glowed brighter as it snarled again.
A shout echoed and something dragged it backward. It writhed and shrieked as its talons skidded across the ice. Dorian appeared, his face twisted in concentration, his extended arms shaking with effort as he backed away, somehow taking the creature with him.
It fought back, twisting until it could fix him with its eyes. His arms slowly lowered and a blank look crossed his face.
“Dorian!” Tonya screamed and he shook free of its control.
The remmiken growled in frustration and spun, flinging its tail toward her.
“Down!” Diane screamed and threw herself at Tonya, knocking her to the ground as the tail smashed into them.
Tonya sobbed for a breath as Diane shuddered beside her. Dorian grabbed his staff again and ran forward, flicking a bolt of magic that knocked the remmiken’s nose away and ramming one of his blades into its chest.
It screamed, impaling itself further onto the blade as it pushed forward to try to get him. Dorian gritted his teeth, struggling to hold on with his injured hand, his wings flapping uselessly as his feet skidded backward.
Another shout came from overhead. August launched into a dive, his sword held out in front of him, aiming for the base of the creature’s neck. His wings opened at the last second, steadying him as he slammed into its neck, burying his sword all the way to its hilt.
The remmiken froze like a statue, one remaining wing spread wide, its head arched mid-strike before it crumbled into dust. August’s wings fluttered, bringing him safely to the ground outside the pile of debris.
Dorian shakily stood taller, wiping some of the dust from his face with his sleeve.
August leaned over, resting hands on his knees. He tilted his head up to look at Dorian.
“Griffin’s tailfeathers, healing magic is your strongest magic.”
Dorian took another breath. “You always go for the dramatic kill?”
A slight grin quirked in the corner of August’s mouth. “Looked like you needed some help.”
Tonya helped Diane sit up, but the princess slumped against her. A faint whimper escaped Diane as she reached toward her right leg. Panic jolted through Tonya. Red blood soaked through Diane’s clothes.
“Dorian?” Her voice scraped out in a whisper. She tried again, fear cracking the word as she reached to help staunch the blood.
“Don’t touch it!” Dorian’s voice came sharp.
August cursed as they ran over.
Dorian shrugged out of his pack, fumbling with the straps as his left hand seemed to be giving him trouble. August grabbed the pack, undoing the buckles in seconds. Dorian pushed the flap back, yanking out a smaller bag, and began digging through it with his good hand.
“Wash it off,” he instructed August without looking.
August took his canteen and gently poured water over the oozing cut across Diane’s calf, careful not to touch the wound or the blood. Tonya wrapped her arms around Diane’s shoulders, letting her squeeze her arms.
“How are you feeling?” August turned a smile at Diane, not quite hiding the concern in his eyes.
“Um…” Diane sniffed. “It was hurting. But now I can’t feel my leg. That’s not normal, right?” Her wavering voice began to rise.
Dorian uncorked a small vial, using the back of his left hand against her boot to gently rotate her leg to expose the cut.
“This will help drive out the venom. I want you to tell me when you can feel everything again,” he instructed gently.
Diane nodded as he gently poured a few drops on the cut. Now that it had been mostly cleared of the blood, it didn’t look as deep as Tonya had first thought, but it ran nearly two handspans down the side of her leg. Some blood still dribbled from the edges of the cut.
“Nothing yet,” Diane said. Dorian poured a few more drops on. August bit his bottom lip as he watched. Tonya tried to take a calming breath, even though the sight of the red-stained snow and the open wound was beginning to make her nauseous.
Dorian kept administering the medicine until Diane’s foot jerked. He flinched as she kicked him in the thigh.
“Sorry!” she blurted, curling her leg back with a wince. “It definitely hurts now.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “All right. I’m going to clean it again and get it bandaged up.”
Diane nodded. Dorian pulled the glove off his right hand with his teeth, and took the canteen from August, rinsing the wound again.
“It’s not deep enough for stitches,” he said, but spread a paste over the wound, pressing the edges together. August moved in to help, keeping Diane’s leg elevated as Dorian wrapped a bandage neatly around her calf. He fumbled a bit with his left arm, using the back of his hand to keep things in place.
Diane kept her lips pressed tightly together during the process, face pale. Tonya kept her arms around Diane as August gently helped her move away from the stained snow.
Diane drew a shuddering breath, a broken laugh escaping. “I’d make a terrible warrior.”
August smiled again, his shoulders relaxing. “I’ve seen men laid low with scrapes smaller than that, believe me. And none of them would face down a charging remmiken like you two did.”
“I think I might have frozen my feet to the ground,” Tonya said, trying to blink away the sudden urge to sob in relief.
August laughed, the sound finally breaking the tension inside her.
Diane wiped her eyes as a giggle broke from her. “And this is why I’d rather write about the adventure than have it.”
Tonya turned to where Dorian packed away his things. She caught a brief wince of pain before he shuttered it away.
“Are you all right, Dorian?”
He nodded, not quite meeting their gaze. “Just sprained it a bit.” He lifted his arm.
August narrowed his eyes. Quicker than the remmiken, he flicked out his hand, catching a light blow to Dorian’s injured arm. Diane yelled and smacked his shoulder as Dorian sat back with a huff of pain.
“Let me see.”
“Why do you care?” Dorian snapped, any trace of friendliness gone.
August clenched his jaw. “Because I’d rather not have you hold us up by pretending that it’s not as bad as it is.”
Dorian glared back, but pulled his empty sheaths overhead and shrugged his left arm out of his jacket. He rolled up his sleeve and Tonya winced. Dark bruises mottled the skin of his forearm from his wrist up to his elbow.
“Did it cut you anywhere?” August asked.
Dorian shook his head, stiffening as August gently took his arm to check the extent of the bruising.
“Broken?” August pressed around his elbow and forearm.
“Don’t think so.” Dorian’s voice strained as August rotated his already swollen wrist and fingers.
“Your wrist looks like it got the worst of it.” August dug in the bag until he pulled out another bandage.
Dorian cocked an eyebrow. “I’d noticed.”
He said nothing as August began wrapping the bandage around his palm, then up around his wrist and forearm.
Dorian gave a small nod as he finished. “Can you hand me another bandage?”
“Not good enough for you?” August’s lip curled in a slight sneer.
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Ice.”
August grudgingly nodded and handed another bandage over. He scooped handfuls of ice crystals, holding them against Dorian’s arm as he wrapped the second bandage over it all.
“What does that do?” Tonya watched in confusion.
“Helps with the swelling and some of the pain.” Dorian tucked the tail of the bandage in place and managed to get his arm back through the sleeve of his coat.
“You can’t just heal yourself?” Diane tucked her hands under her arms, shivering a little in a cool breeze.
He pulled the sheaths back over his head, settling them across his chest. “We can’t instantaneously hea
l ourselves or humans.” He gestured to her leg. “We can speed up the process, though. We should both be fine in a few days.”
August stood, brushing snow from his knees. Diane accepted his help to stand, wobbling a little on her bandaged leg. Dorian reached for his double-bladed staff. He rested his hand in the center of the staff, spoke a word, and it separated again. He sheathed one blade over his right shoulder, then tried to pick up the left blade, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate enough to wrap around the staff.
August stepped forward, picking it up and carefully placing it in the sheath. He paused a moment more, then held out a hand to Dorian.
The other faery regarded him, then clasped his hand and let August haul him to his feet. Tonya pushed upright and handed Diane her staff.
“Ready?” Dorian asked, as if he’d never been injured himself. Tonya nodded and Diane experimented with putting some more weight on her right leg.
“I can manage,” she said.
Dorian shouldered his pack and started walking. They skirted the pile of what had once been the remmiken, already blowing away in the light breeze. Tonya kept close to Diane as they walked. The princess limped gamely after Dorian, using her staff to compensate for her injured leg, but their progress slowed considerably.
She finally halted in the early afternoon. Tonya rested a hand under her arm as the princess took a few short breaths, her head bowed. Dorian and August gathered around.
“Not to be dramatic, but I don’t know that I can keep going right now.” Diane’s voice sounded miserable.
“Sit down a minute and let me check your leg,” Dorian said gently.
Tonya kept a steadying hand under Diane’s arm, helping her lower herself to the ground. Blood streaked the bandage and Tonya caught a glimpse of worry in Dorian’s face.
August crossed his arms. “Make camp here?”
“I just need to rest for a bit,” Diane said, but she rubbed the skin just above the bandage, not quite hiding the slump in her shoulders.
Dorian removed his pack again and dug another vial out of his healer’s kit.
“Small sip for the pain.” He held it out to Diane. Hesitation showed in the twitch of her hands. Dorian didn’t flinch, keeping it outstretched towards her. She slowly took the vial and drank. Her face contorted in a grimace as she swallowed.
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