by S A McClure
“Run,” he whispered. “Hide. This shouldn’t last more than a few moments.”
“What shouldn’t last more than—” She clamped her lips shut as his nose elongated into a snout. His hazel eyes turned golden and his canines lengthened into sharp points.
She stepped backwards, too shocked to react. He howled at her, his eyes darkening with desire.
She turned and ran.
Rhys lunged for her, a vicious cry on his lips. Iris cowered behind a table. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see how close he was to her body. How close she was to his death.
He released a strangled cry as the manacle around his throat cut off his airflow. He reached his arms out to her, attempting to snag her with one of his claws.
She leapt out of the way just as his nails raked across the spot she had just been sitting. He reached for again, but this time, he was too far away to reach her. Iris sighed in relief as she pressed herself against one of the windows and prayed the bonds would hold him.
His shoulders quaked and his snout began to shrink and morph back into human features. He slumped to the ground, trembling.
Although she was still afraid of him, Iris rushed forward and cradled his head in her hands.
“Are you alright?” she whispered. “You had me worried there for a moment.”
He smiled up at her and placed a warm, firm hand on her cheek. “I would never want to cause a lass as beautiful as you a stitch of harm,” he whispered. “You are like sunshine on a winter day.”
“Thank you for that, I guess,” she said as she checked him for wounds. The skin around his neck was rough and swollen, but she didn’t see any reason to be concerned. It was obvious this had happened to him before.
“You should wrap in the chains in cloth if you want to avoid injuries like this in the future,” she said, grazing her fingers over the swollen flesh at his wrists.
“You didn’t come here to be a nursemaid to a tired, weak, old man,” he said. “Who is Myrella Dimati to you?” he asked, his voice taking on a bitter edge.
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Six months ago, she would have said that she had been like a mother to her, despite the name they called her. She would have described loving the woman for everything she’d done for them. Although she took them in out of selfish desire, she had still chosen to raise them. To provide for them. To teach them things that allowed them to survive.
She had given them a gift. This drive to keep pushing. To keep surviving.
To do it together.
The thought sent a pang of regret through Iris. They had done it all together. Until now.
Until she’d chosen to abandon her sister in order save Liam.
The muscles in her neck twitched as she met Rhys’s gaze. “She raised me from a small child.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Myrella I know.”
“How long ago did you interact with her?” she asked.
He paused, his features slackening. “Honestly, time is such a subjective concept that I can’t pinpoint when I last met with her.”
“How is that even possible?” Iris asked.
“Time is a construct we use to organize events in our lives. Mine has stretched for millennia All that is happening now has surely happened before and will happen again.” He smiled at her with such sadness in his eyes that her heart felt like it was filling with water. The pressure in her chest was so tight she didn’t know what to say to him. “If I know Myrella, then I know she’s done something to force you to come here. What is it?”
Iris blinked at him. “How did you know?”
“As I said, all that has happened before is happening again. My sisters and brothers will not rest until they find me.” He came to stand by her.
They stared out the large window facing the ocean. Waves lapped against the shore in rhythm with the world. It was calming.
“I came here to escape them. They nearly killed me once.” His voice grew solemn. “They used someone too naïve to recognize just how much of his choice they’d already claimed for themselves. I couldn’t get through to him.” He sighed. “There are times when I hope I can face him again. Tell him that I forgive his role in trapping me. Perhaps the Darkness would not have consumed the world if I had done a better job at convincing him to follow a different path.”
Iris watched him from the corner of her eye. What he was saying was nonsense. He spoke in obscurities.
“Who are you, really?” she asked.
“Rhys.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. She turned to face him from the front. “There’s something neither you nor Myrella have told me. Why don’t you tell me now?”
He shook his head. “Let’s strike a bargain, you and I. Tell me what she has on you and I promise I’ll give you a clue as to who I am.”
“A clue?” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Should I just give you a clue as to what she has on me then?”
He laughed. “No. I want the full story on that one.”
She thought about it for a moment. If she was going to get Liam back, she needed to be able to tell Myrella that Rhys had, at the very least, considered her offer.
“Fine,” she said, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He took it without a moment’s hesitation. “A little over six months ago, I discovered I had the ability to dreamwalk.” Her voice shook as she spoke, and she paused to get a grip on her emotions. “I met someone while I was there. A boy, Liam.” She whispered his name.
“You love him,” Rhys said. “Of course.” He nodded as if this was nothing new and motioned for her to continue.
“He was cursed. His orders were to help monsters kill my sister and me. He chose to help us instead. I discovered a way to break the curse and set him free, so I did. Only then, he left with Myrella. He chose her over me.”
“I see,” Rhys said, meeting her gaze. His eyes undulated between gold, brown, and hazel as he stared at her. He smirked. “She probably gave him a love potion to make him leave with her. Classic Myrella.” He frowned. “I never should have told her about that trick.”
“That’s terrible!” Iris cried. “How could you ever—”
“It’s quite effective in being able to manipulate others into doing your bidding.” He laughed softly to himself. “Let me guess, he appeared to you in the dreamworld and made you think he’d been tortured by her?”
“How—”
He slapped his hands on the window, a wide smile blossoming over his face. “I knew it!” He let out a gleeful laugh. “I’m not sure why. I don’t have nearly the power I used to without my hammer, but I suppose, especially if we can find my sister, that we will be able to do something to help Light triumph after all.”
Iris tuned him out as he continued to ramble. She didn’t understand half the things he was saying and, if she was being honest, she didn’t care. She just wanted him to agree to come to Myrella’s mountain cave in the real world. That was it.
“Look,” she said, “I don’t know what you’ve been through in the past, but it sounds like a lot. All I know is that Myrella is offering you shelter. And, if you are willing to, at the very minimum, consider her offer, then she’ll release Liam to me. So, what are you going to do?”
He stared at her for several moments without talking and then sighed heavily. “Tell Myrella that I will find her in the days to come.”
He placed both his hands on her shoulders and kissed her brow. Warmth spread from her head to her toes and she felt her body dissolving as she was forced out of the dream.
“I hope we meet again,” he whispered as he pulled back. “Until then, trust no one but yourself.”
Iris coughed as she woke from the dream. She could still feel his lips on her brow. His last warning to her whirred in her mind as she opened her eyes and met Myrella’s gaze.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emma
Emma shuddered as she gained consciousness. Sweat coated her entire body, and her cotton un
derclothes clung to her beneath her leather armor. She groaned as she rolled over. She couldn’t breathe, her chest was so tight.
“Micah?” she wheezed, sitting up. He lay an arm’s length away, unconscious. She reached for his hand. “Micah!”
Blood covered soaked his clothes. There was a blue tinge to his skin and, when she grasped his hand, it was cold.
She flung herself atop his body.
“Please be alive,” she whispered. “Please.” She didn’t want to beg, but she would if it meant that she could save him. She held her finger under his nose and waited.
She swore she felt the slightest movement of air on her finger, but she was terrified it was all her imagination. She couldn’t hear his heartbeat. Or feel his chest rising and falling as he took in breath.
“You are not allowed to die on me!” she screamed as she slammed her fist into his chest. “Do you hear me? Do you!”
She hit him again.
His body jolted. She thought she heard a rib snap, but didn’t give herself time to consider it. She just kept pumping his chest. It worked before. She’d been able to save Iris. She could save Micah.
She would.
More bones cracked under the force of her strikes. Still, he did not start breathing. She clutched his hand to her cheek. It was cold and limp.
“Micah,” she whispered.
He did not respond.
She curled up next to him, not caring that his blood stained her clothes. Their horses were gone, and with them, their packs. They had nothing. She had nothing.
She didn’t know how long she stayed beside him. How long she waited for any sign that he was breathing again. But, when she finally stood up, her back ached and her joints were still. The sister moons swelled within the sky, casting soft white light around the entire forest.
She kissed Micah’s brow. His skin was still so cold. She lingered there, praying that she could bring life back to him. That she could heal him. She knew it was her imagination, but she could have sworn his skin warmed beneath her touch, as if she were transferring her heat to him.
With the moons shining down, the dead spiders looked even more creepy than Emma remembered. She kept her distance from their bodies. Although they weren’t moving and she knew the onyx blade and ripped away their souls, they still made her skin crawl. Besides, Micah was dead because of them.
She stilled as the words reverberated through her.
Micah was dead.
She stared down at his body. She couldn’t just leave him there. He deserved more than to be left for the scavengers to eat him. She searched the surrounding area until she found two tree limbs of relatively the same length. Using the silk she’d cut from his body, she stretched it between the two poles to create a stretcher. After laying his body on the silk, she began to pull him behind her.
As she walked, tears streamed down her cheeks. In her heart, she knew the stories were true. He’d saved her life countless times. He’d been there for her in moments when she most needed it. Even after Iris had broken his curse and he’d become human again, he’d stayed with her. Loyal to the end.
The moons sank and, in the east, a sliver of golden sun began to peek through the tree line. Her muscles hadn’t fully recovered from the spiders’ venom and her legs felt a little like jelly. She forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, though.
Her thoughts wandered to Iris. She hoped her sister had been able to make it to Grandmother Rel. She hoped she had been successful in freeing Liam. Her heart ached at the thought that they might not ever see one another again.
She glanced behind her. Micah was gone. That could have been her. She could’ve been the one on the stretcher.
She didn’t know when she started, but she began running. Splinters dug into her palms as the twin poles jostled in her hands. She ignored the stabs of pain and continued going. Micah was heavy and her arms quivered, but she didn’t stop.
Without a horse, she would never be able to catch up with Chiara and the elves. She longed to journey with them to the capital. To offer her services to the royal family. To make a meaningful contribution to the world. But now that Micah was dead—
The thought sent tremors coursing through her body. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beat herself for not protecting him.
For failing him.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to his corpse.
Rain began to drizzle through the trees, soaking her clothes and making her shiver. She wanted to rest, but doing so could be a death sentence. Although she still had the bow, dagger, and dust from the elves, she didn’t have any food, shelter, or way to make fire.
She trudged through the mud, wishing that she had gone with Iris. Then, at the very least, Micah would still be alive. It was her fault. If she hadn’t convinced him to ride with her—
She dropped the stretcher’s handles and knelt beside him. Even with the light rain, sunlight shined brightly through the trees. She wiped away a lock of his curly, dark hair and trailed her fingers over his face.
His skin seemed less blue and warmer than it had before. The humidity in the forest increased as the rain petered into mist.
Blisters covered her hands. She loathed picking up the handles again, knowing that multiple blisters would pop if she did so. She didn’t want to see how deep the puss went. She’d once seen a man with a blister on his ankle so large that when he cut it open to release the pus, she could see the bone.
She cringed as the memory of the smell hit her. She refused to ever let her body deteriorate into such a state.
She stared at Micah for several moments, wishing she’d spent more time getting to know him post-humanization. He’d been kind to her, and she had treated him like filth. She leaned down and pressed her forehead against his.
“I wish things had been different, Micah. Mr. Wolf. Whatever your name was. I am sorry I kept you away.”
A puff of air hit her lips. She jerked back in surprise. Her hands went out behind her to block her fall and her butt sank into the mud.
“What the—” she shouted.
Micah coughed.
Black mucus dripped from his lips and ran down his chin in a steady stream. Emma unsheathed the onyx dagger, ready to attack if he turned into an undead creature. Then his eyes fluttered open and he met her gaze, and she lowered her weapon.
“Micah!” She lurched towards him. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and clung to him as he wheezed.
“Take it easy,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and strained.
When Emma pulled back, she was coated in his blood, which was now freely flowing from the puncture wounds at his neck and torso.
She didn’t miss a beat. She took her leather jerkin off and slid out of her cotton undershirt. She ignored the fact that she was bare-chested in front of Micah. He needed something to stop the bleeding and this was the only option she had. The medical kit she’d assembled before the elves left had been on her horse.
She made quick work of tying the cloth around his wounds. He flinched when she pulled the ends taunt.
“Easy there,” he said, placing a hand on the bandage. “I think you cracked my ribs when you tried to revive me.”
“You knew I tried to start your heart again?” she asked.
She wondered what else he remembered. The memory of kissing him made her cheeks flush and she turned to peer into the trees. She pretended to scout for danger, but continued watching him from the corner of her eye.
“How?” she asked. “How is this possible?”
He chuckled softly, but then flinched as pain coursed through his body. He held his hands over his chest and side. “Spider venom slows the heart, remember?”
“Yes, but it only lasts for a short duration of time. I woke up hours ago.”
“You also weren’t almost completely devoured by a set of adolescent spiders void-bent on eating you alive,” he retorted. “They bit me so many times, I’m half-surprised my heart started beating again, even
if they didn’t completely drain me.”
She gripped his hands in her own.
“I’m glad it did,” she whispered.
His eyes trailed over her face, lingering on her lips before they slipped downward. Emma blushed when she saw the hunger build in his eyes. She wrapped her arms over her chest and turned to her back to him, then slipped on her leather jerkin. It was rough against her skin, but she didn’t care.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She cranked her neck around to look at him over her shoulder.
“For what?” she asked.
“For not leaving me behind. For thinking of me. For caring.” He smiled at her.
She turned to face him fully and shrugged. “I couldn’t leave you there, surrounded by dead spiders. If you’d died, it would’ve been my fault. I should never have—”
“I’m the one who chose to come with you, Emma. Besides, you couldn’t have known that we’d be attacked by the spiders.” He rubbed his chin and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Unless you did. In which case, it most definitely would’ve been your fault I almost died.”
She flashed a half-smile at him. “You never know. I could be dangerous,” she teased.
He laughed, then groaned and wrapped his hands around his middle again.
“We need to get you to a healer,” she said, rising to her feet. She flexed her hands, preparing herself to pick up the poles again to drag Micah to the nearest village.
He caught her hand and turned it palm up. He frowned. Making a tsking sound, he turned his head upwards to look at her.
“I can walk,” he said, voice low.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Emma.” He said her name like it was a delicate flower in full bloom. “I am a grown man who has been alive for over three hundred years. I think I can tell when I’m too weak to walk on my own two feet.”
She looked everywhere but his eyes. She didn’t want to risk his safety just so that the blisters on her hands wouldn’t worsen.
He grimaced as he stood and then placed his hands on either side of her cheeks. “I know you feel guilty for not stopping the spiders before they injected me with their venom, but you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”