by Cayla Keenan
Maia went pale and Jayin’s heart stopped. Images of Maddix, bloody and broken, filled her mind on a loop. Maddix, struck through the heart by an arrow she wasn’t fast enough to stop. Jayin’s chest constricted, her breath hissing through clenched teeth.
“Jayin, I—”
“What happened?” Jayin said, her voice splintering. Without thinking, she grabbed Maia’s hand. Energy flooded through her half-built shields and Jayin hissed, recoiling. The pain in her head surged anew, but Jayin had her answer. “He’s gone.”
Maddix was gone. She should be grateful to know that he was alive, but it felt like there was a boulder compressing her chest.
“He left,” Maia said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, looking miserable. Jayin shifted, trying to sit up straighter. “Hey! No, no, no,” Maia cried out, and the other healer reappeared to push her back down.
“Get off me,” Jayin snarled, but her head was swimming, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Before she could so much as reach for her magic, something was slipped around her hand and her powers went dark. A leather band clasped around her wrist and settled next to the silver cuff. She hadn’t taken it off.
“What are you doing?”
“Jayin, if you use too much magic, it could kill you.”
“I have to find him,” Jayin said.
“He’s gone,” Maia said more harshly than Jayin had ever heard her. “He’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it. If you overexert yourself, you’re going to die.”
She didn’t care. In that moment, Jayin didn’t care that her life hung in the balance. She had to find him.
“Take it off,” Jayin ordered. Maia’s jaw set.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Maia said. Jayin didn’t disagree, but she knew that saying so would do nothing to help her case.
“I swear to every star in the sky if you don’t take this thing off of me I’ll—”
“You will do nothing,” Rahael said, walking into the chamber. Her tone brooked no argument. “You’re hurt and you will do as Maia says until you are well again.” Jayin wanted to argue, but she didn’t think she would be able to sit up again without passing out.
“Is he okay?” Jayin asked, her eyes finding Rahael’s. “Please.”
“He was when he left,” Rahael said finally. The admission did nothing to soothe Jayin’s fears, but Rahael wouldn’t say anything else about it, leaving Jayin in Maia’s care.
Healing was slow, even with her magic locked away and accelerating the process. It was days before the healers allowed her to walk on her own and even then she was still heavily supervised. Rahael was worried she would try to leave the second someone wasn’t looking.
It was a fair assumption. Jayin had every intention of leaving the moment her watchdogs so much as blinked.
“Look who’s on her feet again,” Evin said one day when Jayin was taking her daily walk around the compound. There was another witch tailing her, trying to be discrete and failing.
“If you ask me if I need help I will gut you,” Jayin sniped. Bed rest had done nothing for her temperament, but at least she had her knives back.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Evin said without blinking. “You look like hell.”
“And you are charming as always,” Jayin replied, but she wasn’t altogether unhappy to see him. Too many sahir had been killed in the attack, and Evin was a powerful witch. He was needed.
“You know, Maia won’t shut up about you.”
“Probably complaining about the worst patient she’s ever had,” Jayin said. It didn’t surprise her that the healer had confided in him—she’d heard the story of how Evin rescued Maia from Kaddahn mercenaries a few years ago. Near death experiences had a tendency to bring people together.
Jayin would know.
“She thinks you should stay,” Evin said without preamble.
“I’m not staying.”
The tunnels had been refortified since the soldiers found them, and thoroughly spelled to prevent another breach. There were as safe as they could be, and with Maddix in the wind, there was no reason to stay any longer than she had to.
“What is out there for you?” Evin pressed. “You’re wanted in your kingdom as a deserter, and the sahirla want your head on a spike.”
“Now you’re just flattering me,” Jayin said, wishing she could move quickly and leave him behind. Even when she was whole he’d be able to run her down.
“This is serious.”
“Do you hear me laughing?” she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.
“He’s not worth it.” There it was, the reason why he was here. “That dayri is not worth dying for.”
“His name is Maddix,” Jayin snapped.
“Right, Maddix Kell, convict and murderer,” Evin said bitingly. “What a worthy person to waste your life on.”
“Does it make you feel superior?” Jayin asked, just barely reigning in her temper. “Thinking that you’re better than him?”
“Better than a dayri criminal? Yes.”
“You know,” she said, curling her hands into fists. “I spent some time with the witchhunters back in Aestos. If you could convince them you didn’t have magic, you might just get along.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, hobbling away as fast and with as much dignity as she could.
“You’d choose him over your own people?” Evin shouted after her. Jayin didn’t answer, just turned the corner and left him behind.
Maia tried to convince her next. Jayin was expecting it but the healer was harder to dismiss outright.
“You’ll be safe here,” Maia said softly. “You can help us, and we can help you.”
“Maybe I’ll be back someday,” Jayin said, but it was a pathetic excuse for an answer. She’d said the same words to Ravi all those weeks ago and hadn’t intended to make good on that promise either.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Jayin wished she could say the same, but she was tired of being underground and hiding from the world. Traveling in either kingdom was terrifying; it was life and death, but at least it was living. It was breathing fresh air and seeing the stars at night instead of stone ceilings. It was fighting for her life and the dizzying, intoxicating relief that came with each new sunrise.
“I can’t stay, Maia.”
She had been ready to go for days, just waiting for an opportunity to slip away. She suspected they were purposefully keeping her longer than she needed. It had been almost a week and Jayin shuddered to think of Maddix’s head start. He could have already crossed the border for all she knew.
“You’re leaving then,” Rahael said, meeting her in her own quarters. Jayin didn’t answer, pulling her coat tight and slinging the pack over her shoulders. When it was clear Jayin wouldn’t be swayed, Maia had made sure she had fresh supplies before the girl had pulled her own disappearing act.
“You know this isn’t what he wants.”
Jayin’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “What do you mean?” she said, schooling her features into a nonchalant mask.
“He left. Without you.”
“We’re safer together,” Jayin said obstinately. It wasn’t much by way of an argument, but it was all she had.
“He doesn’t want you following him,” Rahael insisted. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “Jayin, be realistic. Your dayri left while you were unconscious, without a note or an explanation. If he cared, he would’ve stayed.”
Jayin inhaled sharply, trying not to look as if she’d been struck.
“I don’t believe you,” Jayin said.
“Here,” Rahael said, extending her hand, palm up. “My magic won’t affect you while you have the stone, but you will be able to see the truth.”
Slowly, Jayin pressed two fingers against her skin.
“Where are you going?” Jayin heard Rahael’s voice say. It came from far away, distorted through the memory. Jayin could s
ee Maddix through Rahael’s eyes. He was walking away, his sword on his hip and his pack settled firmly between his shoulder blades. He didn’t answer her.
“Jayin is healing,” Rahael went on. “She could wake up any time.”
“I can’t wait anymore,” Maddix said finally. “And she’ll only slow me down.”
“You need her for what comes next.”
“There are other witches. Besides, I’m not going back to Pavaal. There’s nothing for me there,” Maddix said. His face was hard and unfeeling; he looked like he had back at the sahirla’s compound.
“She’ll never forgive this,” Rahael called as he turned his back to her.
“You people do know how to hold a grudge,” he replied, cold. “I won’t take it personally.”
Jayin watched him leave from Rahael’s point of view. The memory ended, fizzling out. Something broke inside her, something she’d held close and quiet for so many weeks. It shattered into pieces, the jagged edges tearing into her. She could taste blood on the back of her tongue, but all her wounds had healed.
“I don’t believe it,” she said again. How could she argue? Jayin had seen it with her own eyes.
“He left you behind,” Rahael repeated, a touch of sympathy in her eyes.
He left me behind, Jayin thought, trying to steel herself. She knew this might happen; she knew they would have to go their separate ways, but never like this. She never thought he would leave while she was unconscious, sneaking out like a thief in the night. Stars, she’d been foolish, thinking that he had changed—thinking that he might have cared for her. She had been carrying on like a stupid, lovesick little girl.
She had let him in, she’d trusted him, and he played her like the most naïve of marks. Worst of all, she’d let it happen. Jayin believed him when he promised to keep her safe, and now he was gone. The jagged thing in her chest twisted and Jayin didn’t push it away. She needed to feel this; she needed to remember this hurt.
It wasn’t a mistake she would make again.
“Fine,” Jayin said, looking Rahael in the eye for the first time. She was freezing over, ice crawling through her veins. The cold lodged behind her heart, weighing it down like a stone.
“Are you—?”
“Perfect.”
She still wasn’t going to stay. They’d made it closer to Pavaal than she ever thought they would, and some small, stubborn part of Jayin wanted to see this thing through. She’d gotten out of the capitol once, she could do it again. Besides, she had a promise to keep. Somewhere in the Gull, Ravi was waiting for her to come back. She could abide another broken promise, not now. And with the wall blocking her way to the ocean and half the kingdom out searching for her, she needed a place to lay low and plan her next move. No one in their right mind would go back to the place where they’d been caught, so no one should be looking for in her Pavaal.
“You should remain here,” Rahael tried. “Wait a few more days and make sure you’re healed.” Jayin shook her head.
“No,” Jayin said shortly. “I’ve stayed too long already.”
“Jayin—”
“I’m not going to look for him. I left people back in Pavaal.” She’d been responsible for Ravi, and she’d left him without a thought to the consequences. “I need to make sure they’re okay.”
Finally, Rahael inclined her head. “Be safe. Keep the bracelet on until you’re out of Kaddah and they won’t be able to find you.”
“Thank you.”
There wasn’t anything to say after that, and Jayin didn’t bother with any more goodbyes, finding her way to the surface without incident.
Jayin wouldn’t be sorry to be free of Kaddah. If she never had to step foot in this skyforsaken queendom again it would be too soon.
THE ROAD WAS long and dark, and without magic to guide the way, Jayin had to rely on the coarsely drawn map Rahael provided. The lack of auras was disquieting, like only being able to see in two dimensions. More than anything, Jayin yearned for the distraction of filtering out energy. She had to keep herself from expecting to see Maddix beside her. The more she pushed him away, the further the ice froze inside her. Soon she would be nothing more than a statue.
Above her, the sky was clear, and the stars glittered brilliantly, but Jayin didn’t so much as look up.
For so long, she and other Aestosi had sworn by the stars, seeking them out for comfort and guidance. Some saw them as ancestors that looked down on their living family and provided counsel. The more religious worshiped the stars as all-seeing deities that shaped the course of human life. Jayin had never believed in gods, whether they were named like in Vandel and Kaddah, or unknowable in the Above. She’d never looked skyward for answers to life’s unanswered questions.
The stars had been her hope. Proof that there was always something to light the way, even when the night was blackest. It seemed stupid now, after what she’d been through—Om’s death, her capture by the sahirla, the Kaddahn raid, Maddix—that she’d held onto the stars for so long. They were just pretty, twinkling lights in the sky, and she didn’t need them.
Not anymore.
Chapter Thirty-Three:
Maddix
The road was quiet. For the first few miles, Maddix looked over his shoulder constantly, expecting to see the dull blue uniforms of the Kaddahn infantry. They had no reason to follow him, but months of paranoia and a well-developed persecution complex were hard to shake. Every sudden sound was a bowstring pulling taut; every rustle in the bushes was an ambush.
Worst than expecting an attack was expecting Jayin. The loss of her dogged his every step, and Maddix had to force himself not to turn back. She was safer without him, he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from missing her.
It doesn’t matter, he told himself, over and over, as if he could somehow make it true. He was going to finish what he started, but he wasn’t going to put her life at risk to do it. Had the witch not plucked Maddix out of his body and used his hands to kill, none of this would’ve happened. He never would’ve been arrested, or found the sahirla. He never would’ve met Jayin. Somehow, foolishly, he couldn’t bring himself to regret that.
Maddix shook his head, trying to force the thoughts of her out of his head. If he didn’t make it to Pavaal, none of this mattered anyway. Some part of him, no matter how small, hoped that maybe one day they would find each other again. His name would be clear and they could go somewhere where no one knew either of them. The Isles, perhaps. Or maybe they’d charter a ship, set sail, and never come back to the Three Kingdoms again. Maddix had always wanted to see the world. Maybe they could see it together.
For now, he had to stay alive. There was no use planning if he died on his way back to Aestos. Maddix kept to the Kaddahn side of the border for as long as he could, walking as fast and as far as he could during the day and finding someplace to sleep when the sun went down. After two years in the Pit and weeks on the road with a surly witch, he wasn’t picky about where he made camp.
Where he could, he slept with the lights on or else left fires burning. It was a poor substitute, but he would learn to make do. On nights when voices hissed in his ears and he couldn’t shake the nightmares, Maddix did sword drills until he could barely stand.
Mole, Hale, Jayin, and the Dark witch all swirled together behind his eyelids whenever he tried to close them. Maddix gritted his teeth, hacking through his shadowy enemies. He could feel eyes on him as he practiced. Get it together. He couldn’t go to pieces without her to light his way. He had to get by on his own now.
It was only when the bushes rustled behind him that Maddix realized the watchful eyes might not be in his head.
Maddix spun, holding his sword out in front of him as he prowled through the scrubby underbrush. He didn’t relish fighting, not like Jayin, but his blood called for action, for movement. Anything to keep him out of his own head.
“Who’s there?” Maddix called. Something shifted in the trees and Maddix advanced, his sword held tight in both hand
s. He drew it over his head before a tiny, petrified squeak stopped him in his tracks.
“Maia?” Maddix said, recognizing the blonde witch crouched in the bushes. “What are you doing here?”
“I was following you,” she said. Her voice shook and her eyes tracked his sword as he sheathed it.
“Bleeding skies—why?”
“I came to bring you back,” Maia said, crossing her arms over her chest. The effect was made less impressive by the twigs stuck in her blonde hair and her quivering bottom lip. Blood crusted on her cheek, a souvenir from trampling through the woods.
“I can’t go back.”
“You have to!” Maia said, raising her voice loud enough that Maddix clapped his hand over her mouth and hauled her inside the ramshackle structure where he’d made camp. Half of the roof was caved in, but it was as good a shelter as any. “Jayin is going to get herself killed trying to come after you, and you don’t even care,” Maia accused when Maddix finally released her.
“She’s not going to come after me,” Maddix said. He didn’t know what Rahael had done to convince Jayin not to follow him, but he knew it would break her heart. Which meant Maia had put herself in danger for nothing. “I’m taking you back.”
“No,” Maia said. Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “Jayin almost died for you and—”
“I know!” Maddix said, so sharply that Maia flinched. Maddix pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. She’s not safe with me and I…” He trailed off, not trusting himself to speak. “I just want her to be okay.”
Slowly, Maia nodded. “I thought—”
“Tomorrow, I’m taking you back.”
“You have to come back with me now.”
Maddix had to steel himself from snapping again. “Maia. You’re tired, and if neither of us gets any rest, we’re not going to make it.”
“But—”
Once, just once, Maddix wanted to meet a levelheaded witch who actually had some regard for their own safety. He was starting to think they didn’t exist.