by JA Andrews
The room fell silent. Alaric sank into a chair next to Evangeline and dropped his head into his hands. With quiet rustling, he heard the others leave.
The room was silent for a long time. There was a noise by the door, and Alaric looked up to see Douglon still standing in the back of the room. He had lowered his axe to the ground before him and bowed his head in the dwarfs’ posture of mourning.
At Alaric’s movement, Douglon looked up. Then he nodded to Alaric, picked up his axe, and left the Keeper in peace.
Alaric was a little surprised to realize that he was glad they were all here. They brought a warmth and life to the castle that had been missing for too long. Alaric sighed and leaned his forehead on the crystal.
His eyes caught on her blue fingers again and his heart lurched. He pulled a small pouch out of one of his pockets. Acadanthus leaves. He’d had them in his workroom all along. Acadanthus vines grew on holly trees, wound so tightly into the tree that it was all but impossible to pick holly leaves or berries without also getting acadanthus leaves. So he had sorted them into their own bag and tossed them on a shelf. He’d never heard of them having any sort of medicinal use. He took out some leaves and dropped them into a kettle hung over the fire.
It doesn’t matter, his brain told him. Providing the antidote to the poison does nothing but heal this husk of a body. You still won’t be able to get her back.
He pulled the boiling kettle off the fire to let the leaves sit until he could smell the acadanthus tea. He stood before his wife, running his hand over the thin layer of clear crystal that encased her.
It won’t work, his mind whispered. But he had to know. Somehow, he had to know if it could have worked. All of the other poisons were taken care of. It was just the venom left.
Was it wrong to keep trying things when nothing would truly heal her?
The smell of the acadanthus leaves filled the room.
He had to know.
Alaric took a deep, shuddering breath. He closed his eyes and laid his hands on the crystal right above her heart. He reached out to feel the energy there, the ponderous essence of the crystal that he had placed around her, through her.
Alaric focused on the structure of the crystal where it touched her body. “Amoveo.”
The crystal vanished.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Evangeline lay still, but her chest began to rise with shallow breaths and a weak, slow pulse was visible in her neck.
Alaric poured the acadanthus tea into a cup. Using a small medicine dropper, he dripped the tea into her mouth, watching her neck for signs that she was swallowing. After he’d fed her half the cup, he dredged the leaves from the kettle and mashed them into a paste. He lifted her dress up to just above her knee where the swollen, black wound gaped. Purplish red streaks wound up her leg. He began to gently clean and drain the wound, focusing his mind completely on the task, working at it until it was as clean as he could get it. He packed the wound with the paste of acadanthus leaves and wrapped her leg with clean bandages. Then he resumed his seat next to her and filled the dropper again with tea.
The next morning, Alaric awoke stiff. He had fallen asleep in a cot near Evangeline. It was his bed whenever he was at the castle. The morning sunlight was behind the mountains, and Evangeline’s room was still dim. He lit a candle and brought it close to her.
She still slept. He set his hand on her forehead and drew in a sharp breath. It was cooler. Not completely back to normal, but her fever was definitely lower. He set the candle down and unwrapped her leg. Underneath, the lines reaching up her leg had faded to a dull red and the swelling was almost gone.
It was working.
He put some more acadanthus leaves in the kettle, his stomach in knots. It was working.
He pulled the ruby out of the pouch at his neck and laid it on the pillow near her head. The Reservoir Stone did not hold enough life to wake her up. Seeing her here, seeing how little of her was left, he knew Gustav had been right.
He dropped his forehead down on the edge of Evangeline’s pillow. Healing her would take the sacrifice of something healthy, something strong. But maybe that price could be paid, somehow. Maybe…
He lay there for hours until Milly came to let him know there was lunch in Brandson’s room. He stood and stretched, dragging his mind back to the present.
Alaric was pleased to see the smith sitting up and talking with the others. His leg looked better and his fever was gone. Brandson smiled gratefully at Alaric and thanked him. The group chatted with each other while they ate the cold sausage from last night’s dinner. Alaric found himself staring out the window.
Finally, he excused himself and went back to Evangeline’s room.
He pulled his chair close to the table and sank into it, taking her hand.
It was time. With the crystal gone, he imagined that the blue had moved infinitesimally farther up her fingers. He cast out to feel the vitalle in her body. It was so weak and thin that he could barely sense it. Next to her head, the vitalle in the ruby was similarly thin. There was no way that energy would be enough to fill her whole body.
There was no point to this waiting, this lingering. There were only two choices. One was to let her die, the other to sacrifice someone else to save her…
She’d hate him for it, but it might give her a chance.
“Forget what you are planning, Keeper,” Ayda said softly.
Alaric whipped his head toward her. She stood just inside the door, watching him with large, troubled eyes.
Alaric looked at the elf with narrow eyes. “I told you to stay out of my head,” he said flatly.
Ayda gave a short laugh. “I don’t need to read your mind to know what you are thinking.” Then she walked over to the other side of Evangeline. “Your sacrifice would be more than useless. It would be cruel.”
Alaric glared at Ayda, saying nothing.
Ayda held his gaze. “There is too much death in her, Alaric,” she said gently. “All of the life inside of you will not wipe it out. Your death would bring her back barely, but only to be trapped in a broken body. She would revive to find herself in pain and you dead beside her. Then she would still die herself.”
Alaric dropped his head into his hands, his fingers digging into his skull.
“There are worse things than death,” Ayda whispered.
Alaric looked up at her. Ayda’s face was strangely taut. She looked at him sadly.
“Alaric, there is only one thing left for you to do.”
“I can’t even say goodbye.” His voice sounded like someone else’s, as though the words tore themselves out of him. “If I wake her, she’ll be in so much pain.”
The room was silent for a long time.
Ayda moved first. She went to one of the pots of flowers and snapped off a few blossoms, then she stepped out onto the balcony, walked to the potted trees and set the flowers near the base of each trunk. With a whisper, the blooms began sending out tendrils, winding their way up the trunks with thin green vines, sprouting out tiny buds every few inches until the trees looked like they were about to burst into bloom.
She touched a few buds on each tree, and the breeze brought in a soft smell of spring. Ayda stood looking out, with her back to the room. Finally, she nodded and turned to Alaric.
“I can help,” Ayda said. “We can help,” she gestured to herself. “I can make it so she doesn’t feel much pain.” Then she looked at him intently, clarifying. “I can’t take all the pain away, but whatever she feels should be mild, compared to…”
Alaric looked at her, a faint flicker of hope igniting.
“You could remove the healing spells and wake her,” Ayda continued. “All these spells have served their purpose. They gave you the time you needed to look for the antidote. But they serve no purpose now.”
No purpose. The words rang dully in Alaric’s head. But there was a way. Gustav had done it, Kordan had. The flicker of hope turned to fury. Why did he not have enough life? Where could he find more?
<
br /> You cannot find more. What would you do? Sacrifice us all? Ayda asked, her voice speaking quietly in his mind.
Alaric’s head whipped up and he glared at her. He shoved at her presence in his mind, pushing her away, but she stood firm. Standing just on the edge of his mind. Not invading him, but not leaving, either.
This is not what you want.
The words rang in his mind, echoing the Shield’s words. This is not what you want.
But he did. He wanted it more than anything.
“No,” Ayda spoke firmly out loud. “You do not…. and neither does she.”
Alaric’s eyes tightened. “How would you know what she wants?” he growled.
Ayda looked down at Evangeline, warring emotions crossing her face. Then she looked back up at Alaric her expression wretched. Reluctantly, she spoke.
“Because she’s not really asleep.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Alaric’s blood froze. Evangeline wasn’t asleep?
Ayda continued softly. “I can feel her mind. She’s not really awake, and she can’t move, but she’s not sleeping, either. She knows she’s been alone and she knows that now you are back.”
Alaric shrank back in his chair. He looked at Evangeline’s face, smooth and peaceful. She knew she’d been alone? His hands began to shake. He had left her alone for so very, very long. “Is she in pain?” he whispered.
Ayda was silent for a long moment. “Not in terrible pain.”
The breath rushed out of Alaric as guilt clenched inside of him. He had left her here alone and in pain.
“She’s happy you are here and she wants to see you,” Ayda said. “And then she wants to rest.”
Alaric slipped forward out of the chair and reached for her with trembling hands. “I’m so sorry.” He leaned his head against her forehead and felt the decision click into place. He couldn’t sacrifice himself for her. She would still die. He couldn’t sacrifice others for her. No matter what Kordan or Gustav thought, that wasn’t something you could calculate, the worth of one person versus another.
The Keepers had been right. This power to pull the life out of someone was not used for a reason. Not because of some antiquated rule, just because the shifting about of people’s lives couldn’t be done with a clear conscience. It couldn’t be done well.
Alaric was tired of not doing things well.
He was tired of feeling angry toward the world, toward the Keepers. Tired of distancing himself from a way of life that he had loved and respected. Tired of living in a desperate world of questionable actions. Tired of fighting against the truth that there were some sicknesses that couldn’t be healed.
He wanted the truth back.
And the truth was she was awake and she was dying.
This had gone on far too long.
He nodded at Ayda. “How long can you keep her from feeling the pain?”
Ayda looked at him for a long moment. “For as long as she needs it.”
Alaric felt tears start to fill his eyes and he nodded. “Thank you.” His gaze dropped back down to Evangeline’s fingertips. “It won’t be long.”
Ayda nodded and picked up Evangeline’s hand.
Alaric looked at the ruby. The red light swirled slowly through the stone and it pulsed, slightly warm in his hand. Every breath or two, a swirl of darkness touched one of the irregular surfaces.
He leaned and focused on the thin lines that he could just see on her neck. He began to read them quietly. The runes at her neck glowed a dim blue.
The first words were rough, but as he continued, focusing all of his attention on the thin runes, his voice strengthened and the glow on the tiny lines began to fade.
He narrowed his focus, just concentrating on each line in her skin. He spoke until it faded, releasing the power held there, then he moved on to the next. One by one, moving slowly along the faint path, releasing branches that snaked off, releasing the ones that protected her heart, releasing the ones protecting her mind, releasing the lines that protected her life.
Energy trickled out of his hand, so little needed to end what had cost him so much energy to build.
When the last line faded, he stopped. Nothing had changed. The ruby still swirled slowly. Evangeline lay still, but now he could feel her body living.
Alaric set the ruby on her stomach. Reaching toward the ruby, feeling the energy that spun through it, he began the process of pulling it out and letting it fall back into Evangeline’s body.
It happened more quickly than he expected, the amount of vitalle in the ruby was so much less than it had originally been. In the span of a few breaths, the ruby sat dark and cold. He moved it off to the side, then set his hand on Evangeline’s forehead.
“Excita,” he said gently, feeling the rush of energy flow out of his palm.
Evangeline gasped a weak, shallow breath. Her body twitched and her brow drew down in pain.
Alaric heard a strangled noise and realized it was his own breath. He grabbed for her hand and leaned over her. Her fingers were ice cold. Evangeline’s body began to thrash, her head tossing from side to side, her back arching.
Alaric remembered. He remembered the pain she had endured. He remembered how inadequate his skills had been to give her comfort. He remembered knowing she was going to die. And he remembered the terror of that idea.
Then Evangeline’s body relaxed. She breathed heavily, for a few breaths, but even that began to calm. Alaric looked at Ayda. She was using both hands to hold onto Evangeline’s. The elf’s eyes were shut, her brow drawn slightly.
A small sigh escaped Evangeline’s mouth, and Alaric whipped his attention back to her.
Her eyes were open and looking at him.
He felt his breath catch in his throat and he leaned close to her.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
Alaric reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, bringing his forehead down on hers. She closed her eyes and smiled.
Alaric pulled back, unable to take his eyes off her, but unable to speak. He wanted to apologize, to tell her how much he loved her, but he could barely breathe. He just gripped her hand and stared at her face. She looked so peaceful, so normal. Her cheeks had regained some color and her eyes were bright.
Evangeline looked at Ayda, and Alaric opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Ayda, whose face was pale and drawn, gave a little snort. “I’m Ayda,” she said. “I’ve been traveling with your husband for a bit. Fighting dragons, saving the world, things like that.”
Evangeline gave a weak smile. “That’s the sort of thing he does.” She looked down at her hand encased in the elf’s small hands. “You’re pulling the pain back, aren’t you?”
Ayda gave her a tight, tired smile.
“Thank you,” Evangeline whispered.
Alaric stared at her for a moment. She looked so healthy. He hadn’t seen her look so healthy in… so very long. He barely remembered that her skin was always a little golden. It had been pale and waxy for so long.
“Evangeline,” Alaric said, his voice barely audible, “we don’t have much time.” His hands gripped her so hard that he had begun to drive away some of the coldness. “I’m so very, very sorry. I couldn’t…” He found himself floundering. “I found the antidote. But it’s not enough. I’m so sorry.” He reached for her face. “I’ve missed you every second.”
“And I you,” she said, her voice growing a little stronger. She looked at him with those clear eyes and smiled. “It wasn’t your job to stop death, Alaric. Even great Keepers can’t do that.”
“They should be able to,” he whispered.
“I’m glad I met you, Alaric,” she said softly. “And I’m glad you will soon be free of”—she looked down at herself—”of this burden. You should have more of a life than this.”
“He saved the world just yesterday,” Ayda said. “Fought a great wizard and defeated Mallon.”
Evangeline raised one eyebrow. “Not to take away
from your victory, but wasn’t Mallon already dead?”
“Mostly,” Alaric said, smiling slightly.
“Well,” Evangeline said, “it’s been a long time since you’ve done Keeper things. You should ease back into it. Maybe you can work your way up to fighting someone who is fully alive.”
Evangeline’s eyebrows drew down suddenly, and she looked over at the hand Ayda was holding.
“Whatever you’re doing,” she said to the elf, “it’s working. I feel… wonderful.”
Ayda smiled again, but her face was pale.
A noise near the door caught Alaric’s attention. Brandson and Douglon were standing against the wall, looking as though they would like to sink into it. Milly had tears in her eyes.
Evangeline glanced at Alaric. “I think I could sit up.”
Alaric looked at her in surprise and noticed a strong pulse in her neck. He pulled up her hand and saw fingertips pink and healthy. Evangeline lifted her head, and Alaric quickly reached an arm behind her to help her sit.
Suddenly, there was a strangled yell and Douglon threw himself across the room.
The dwarf reached Ayda just as she toppled to the floor.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Evangeline took a deep breath and stretched her hands. They looked healthy and strong. Alaric reached down quickly to see where the arrow had pierced her. Instead of the scabbed, swollen, black thigh he had seen for the past year, he saw smooth, clean skin with a small scar sitting right above the knee.
“Ayda!” he breathed, turning toward the elf. “How?”
Ayda lay in Douglon’s arms, her face white, barely breathing.
“What have you done?” Alaric demanded.
Ayda smiled weakly.
Douglon’s arms gripped her tighter. “You stupid elf,” he whispered. “You stupid, stupid, stupid elf.”
Evangeline was sitting steadily so Alaric pulled his arm away from her and knelt next to Ayda.
“It turns out,” Ayda said, “that there is someone who had enough life in her to heal your wife.”