Senna’s face changed, her expression becoming one of sudden understanding and growing despair. “I do.”
Aggravain stared. “You? How…?”
Senna was trembling. “It was the baby.” She slowly got to her feet, holding on to the counter for balance. “There were … pains. It was too soon, and there were pains. Anna was frantic, and she came to me. She wanted that child so badly, ‘Vain. She thought—” Senna blinked back tears. “She thought it would bring the two of you closer together. I told her…” Senna wrapped her arms around her stomach, sick with what she had to admit. “I sent her after you, to talk.”
“To the cabin? How did you—”
“You’re a trapper, ‘Vain, where else would you go on business?” Senna thought she might throw up. “Oh Goddess, it was me. I sent her to you.”
Aggravain moved closer to Senna, wanting to offer some comfort. She stepped to the side, putting more distance between them. “You didn’t kill your sister,” he assured her.
“No,” Senna said. “You did.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes dark and fearful, then over to the redhead on her bed. “So why not her?”
He answered with a question. “Do you know why I disappeared, Senna? After Anna?”
She shrugged. “Guilt?”
He was not offended. “I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t face anyone. They all believed it was some beast that killed her, but I knew. I hated myself, Senna. I meant to kill myself.”
Her face was unreadable, but her voice was harsh. “Then why didn’t you?”
“When the change came again, I held on. I remembered.” He sighed. “Not everything, of course, but enough. Enough to hope that I could perhaps control it. Not the change itself. But I can remember, and I can think like a man before I act like a beast … sometimes.”
Senna nodded as if she understood, but her face … she was still shocked, he could tell. She could only stare at the girl he had brought her. “So what of her?”
Aggravain looked over at the girl as well. “Her name is Nia Stone. I met her in Ravenglass, five days back. She smells of magic, but I do not know the nature of it. There was a man there – he called himself Brody Douglas. I didn’t trust him, and when he followed Nia out of town, I followed him.”
The redhead groaned aloud, and both Senna and Aggravain felt a rush of fever that wasn’t theirs, like a fire in their blood. Senna gasped.
“I’ve never encountered magic like hers,” ‘Vain repeated. “I’ve never known anything like it. I had to follow - the moon took me, but I stayed. I saw him try to kill her, Senna, and I just … I attacked him.” His eyes were pained. “I missed.”
“You bit her instead?” Senna could feel practicality reasserting itself, her thoughts arranging themselves in comforting lines. Facts were facts.
‘Vain was what he was, however impossible. Fine.
He’d killed Anna. That didn’t make her sister any less dead.
Senna couldn’t change any of that. She could, however, try to save the fevered girl on her bed. “Will she become … like you?”
‘Vain shrugged. “Next full moon,” he said. “If she survives the fever.”
Senna worked it out. The bite caused the fever. The fever resulted in the change. The fever was the key. “What if the fever breaks before the change?”
Aggravain shook her head. “Senna, there’s no cure for this. The fever won’t break.”
“It never has,” she countered. “What if it did? What if we broke the fever before the change? Would she still turn into … something?”
“I don’t know,” ‘Vain admitted. “I should have killed her, Senna. Would it be so terrible if the fever finished what I couldn’t?”
Senna’s hand went to her hip, and her anger flared. “I did not save her life to watch you throw it away, Aggravain Pike. She is fighting as hard as she can, and I mean to help. If this doesn’t work, we’ll talk, but I’m going to do everything I can to save her. You’re going to help.”
He surrendered. “What do you want me to do?”
Senna put on her cloak. “We need to bring her to the river.”
‘Vain frowned. “The water might be cold enough to kill her this time of year, Senna. She is not strong.”
“Then you get what you want, don’t you? Give her a chance, ‘Vain. This could be her last one.”
He hated to admit it, but she was right. “I’ll carry her.”
Aggravain balanced Nia, who shivered despite being wrapped snug in her cloak, in front of him on the back of the smoke-colored mare. Senna led the nervous animal from the back of her own mount, which was also more anxious than usual. The air was crisp, and got more so as they rode closer to Deep River.
Senna was beginning to have second thoughts as she drew them to a halt. “Here, I think. In the inlet.”
Aggravain did not question. Heat was radiating off of the trembling redhead, and he knew as well as Senna that something had to be done, and soon. He swung his leg over and slipped from the mare’s saddle in a single motion, landing so lightly on the balls of his feet that Nia did not so much as twitch in his arms.
“Here,” Senna said, finding a clear section on the mossy shore. “Don’t get her clothes wet. Just her feet, at first.” She helped him position Nia on the river’s soft bank with the girl’s bare feet dangling into the shockingly cold water.
Nia gasped, trying to pull her legs up as soon as her toes touched the river, but Aggravain held her steady while Senna ran light fingers over the girl’s body in an attempt to monitor any changes. After a few moments, Nia was no longer simply restless, she was writhing in ‘Vain’s grip. As she tried to escape the sharp, biting cold, she let out occasional frustrated whimpers that physically slammed her feelings into them.
“Senna…?” Aggravain had the girl’s wrists in one hand and was half-lying across her legs to keep her feet in the water. She was stronger than she looked.
The Healer kept her eyes closed, listening to Nia’s feverish body with her brow furrowed. Her hands kept returning to the girl’s belly.
“Be patient,” she said. “It may take a while.” In her current condition, Nia didn’t have as much time as it would take, Senna suspected. Still, she had to try.
Aggravain suddenly lifted his head high, his nostrils flaring. He pulled Nia free of the water, nearly knocking Senna backwards with the motion, but he didn’t see. He was already staring into the trees, half-crouched as if he was preparing to fight.
“’Vain, what’s the—?“
He motioned for her to be quiet. “I smell blood,” he whispered. “Someone’s coming.”
32
“‘Vain, she’s getting worse.” There was real fear in Senna’s voice, and Aggravain reluctantly turned away from scanning the trees to see what she meant. Nia was shaking violently, and Senna was hard-pressed to keep the girl still.
“Lich be damned!” He knelt beside the girl, pinning her arms while Senna tried to avoid getting kicked. Her skin was alarmingly hot.
“Is this the fever?” Senna pulled off her own cloak and managed to cover Nia’s legs and feet, but she doubted even warmth would help the girl at this point.
“Mine wasn’t like this,” ‘Vain said, working his wrist between Nia’s teeth to keep her from accidentally biting her tongue.
Without warning, a massive dog charged out of the woods, barking and growling so fiercely that even brave Senna let out a small shriek.
Aggravain turned and bared his teeth, not letting go of the girl, and glared at the beast with all the wolfish menace he could summon. He growled in the back of his throat, and the dog skidded to a stop beside him. It came no closer, but continued barking madly.
“Attilus, come!”
Men came pouring out of the woods after the dog, twenty of them at least, but the animal paid them no heed. Attilus’ attention was focused solely, completely, on Nia.
“Who are you?” Jovan was not far behind the dog, his connection with Melody flooding him wi
th alarming heat and pain as he got closer. It was difficult to think around her distress, and he gritted his teeth as he took in the scene— strangers, holding Melody down. Melody, struggling. “Get your hands off of her.”
“Aggravain Pike, Senna West, and we’re trying to keep her alive,” retorted a woman trying to tuck a cloak around Melody’s kicking legs. “Who’s asking?”
Edwin spoke for him, as he had done since their conversation near Foley so long ago. “He’s Steel Rygus,” the boy said. “We’ve been looking for her.”
“You’re late,” the man called Aggravain snapped, holding Melody’s wrists against her heaving chest with his one free arm.
“What ails her?” Rhodoban tried to move closer, to see.
Jovan held him back. He was quiet, his face thoughtful as he tried to think with Melody’s confusion ringing in his head. Aggravain Pike, he thought. Pike.
“Fever,” Senna said, focused on keeping the girl still. “Too high. I can’t break it.”
Rhodoban clenched his fist, remembering how he had drawn the heat from the creatures that had attacked them in the swamp. Melody’s fever was just heat, perhaps he could— no. His intent then had been to kill the swarming vermin, for this he would need control. His magic was too blunt, too imprecise - the risk was too great.
Calder, trying unsuccessfully to quiet the frantic Attilus, spoke up. “She is prone to fevers, she has had them since she was a child.”
‘Vain grimaced as Nia bit down on his wrist, hard. Blood swelled to the surface. Better him than Senna, he thought. He was already cursed. “Not like this, she hasn’t.”
Pike. The name finally registered. “You,” Jovan said. He grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and hauled him off of Melody. Her teeth snapped together on her tongue once Aggravain’s wrist was gone, and her now-free hands clutched at Senna, struggling to pull her away. Calder rushed to help.
“I’m trying to help,” ‘Vain said, as he hit the ground and bounced up with teeth bared, ready to fight.
“It was you,” Jovan repeated, remembering Melody’s dream, the word she had uttered before she woke.
“Says who?” Aggravain waited, sizing up the newcomer.
“Says her.” Jovan tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword, still struggling with the flood of emotions and heat coming from Melody. He couldn’t distance himself from it.
“She’s said nothing.”
“She’s been with me for days,” Senna called. “Stop it, the both of you.”
Jovan ignored her. “What did you do?” he asked, furious.
“He … bit her.” Edwin was looking over Calder’s shoulder, and pointed to where the bandage had pulled free of Melody’s upper arm. “Somethin’ did, anyways.”
Jovan did not take his eyes from Aggravain, who made no sound of denial. His drew his sword half free of its scabbard.
“I swear I will drop you where you stand—“ Jovan’s threat was interrupted by the woman’s shout.
“For Goddess’ sake, will you stop?!” Senna cried. “She is dying!”
Jovan went to his knees beside Melody, ignoring Aggravain. She needed him. He could almost see the air shimmer with the heat coming from her. The intense shaking had calmed to a constant tremble, and Jovan could sense her getting weaker. He lifted her gently into his arms—
HELPwhatishappeningJovanpleasehelpmepleasestopthisicantidontunderstand
Jovan reeled as Melody’s presence in his thoughts grew impossibly louder and more desperate. The others watched as her trembling ceased entirely, and she lay limp in Jovan’s arms.
“Tell … me … what ails ... her,” he forced through clenched teeth, her disorientation and fever seeming as real to him as they were to her. It was practically impossible to form the words. “She needs … to know.”
Aggravain crossed his arms over his chest. “There is nothing she can do,” he said. “No one can.”
Jovan fixed him with a withering gaze. Her heat in his body was making him shudder. “Don’t … underestimate … this girl,” he warned. “Just … tell me.”
“She was bitten by a werewolf,” Senna blurted, pointedly not looking at Aggravain. “It’s in her blood, from the bite.”
Edwin stared. “His bite, you mean? He’s a—”
Rhodoban was stunned. “She is this world’s greatest weapon against the Lich King, and you tried to kill her?”
Aggravain growled. “I saved her life,” he snapped.
“Fine job,” said one of the other men.
Jovan ignored them all. He was back in his mind with Melody, trying to calm her, trying to help her. She tore through his thoughts, impatient, and latched on to what she needed. In my blood.
Can you do it? It took more effort than he thought he was capable of to form the thought, but he was rewarded with a smile from Melody that he could feel rather than see.
I think so. If you help. Melody had never been able to heal herself, not once. She couldn’t concentrate, she couldn’t distance herself from the pain and still remain present enough to use her talents. This wasn’t pain so much as it was heat, though, and she thought maybe if she could escape it—
Yes. Jovan closed his eyes, ready to try anything.
Hold this, Melody sent, the words in his mind accompanied by the full heat of her fever.
Jovan gasped, fighting the urge to resist the agonizing intrusion. It was so much worse than he’d expected. Fire surged in him, boiled in his head and coursed through him with every beat of his heart, and he bit back a groan. This was what she was enduring? His fists clenched and he bowed his head, focusing on the suddenly difficult task of breathing.
Everyone watching the scene had gone silent, reluctant to move or speak. Something was happening, they all felt it. They didn’t understand, but they didn’t want to disturb either of them. Attilus had reluctantly stopped his frantic barking and stood pressed up against Jovan’s back, not moving so much as a paw, and even Aggravain was still, simply watching.
Removed at last from the terrible heat, Melody could see it more clearly in her mind’s eye, like a writhing, clutching vine of fire. It was still connected to her, she knew, but with Jovan taking the majority of the heat, now she could direct her power towards it.
Her father’s journal had spoken at length on the different elements, and how they were best used and controlled. Most of Melody’s practice was with fire and air, but now she reached for water. She imagined herself full of water, overflowing with it, formed from it, a creature of crisp cold water barely contained by the fragile boundaries of her body.
She slowly pulled the flaming vine away from Jovan and back into herself, coiling it tightly in her gut, surrounding it with the water. The fire could not be extinguished, Melody knew, but it could be contained. She kept coiling, kept pulling, bringing the whole of the fever into her abdomen, condensing it and encasing it with the coldest water she could visualize.
She was exhausted. The heat was a hard, tight knot in her stomach and her whole body hurt, but Melody knew she had succeeded.
Thank you, she sent.
As the unthinkable heat drained out of him, Jovan relaxed, finally opening his eyes. He searched her face for signs she would wake. He saw only unfamiliar red curls clinging to tiny beads of sweat on her forehead, and dark circles staining the pale skin under her eyes. Her body was warm against his, but the heat of the fever was fading quickly. All that remained were images he couldn’t explain, fire and water, and a feeling of grateful triumph.
“The fever’s broken,” Senna said, her hands still motionless on Melody’s legs. “She’s beaten it.” She looked at Aggravain, who looked away from her hopeful smile.
Jovan gathered Melody into his arms and stood, cradling her against his chest with a tenderness he didn’t bother to hide. He refused to think of how close he had come to losing her. “Where can she rest?”
Senna stood, brushing moss and leaves from her skirt and hands. “My Inn isn’t far,” she said. “The Sassy We
nch. There is room for you all, and food. Then, I think, there will be much to discuss.”
33
Cabinsport was no longer the welcoming haven to travelers that it once was, but there was no one alive left to notice. The streets were deserted, most of the houses were burnt to the ground, and not a living soul moved among the empty shops.
It was to this forsaken place that Duke Korith’s former Chancellor came, riding unaccompanied in the brightness of day on the last in a long line of horses that had he had ridden to death on his way here. This one might survive. Garen didn’t care. His ritual had worked. Not only had he regained his former appearance, but Kallisti’s blood had sealed the connection between himself and the Lich King. Phelwen Semaj had called for him, and Garen had come.
The horse came to a stop outside what remained of the Inn. Garen slid from the saddle and retrieved his pack. He was ready. The door to the long-since abandoned Inn hung on its hinges, and a chill slipped beneath his cloak as he walked closer. This was the place, this was where he was being called, this is where his new Lord awaited him.
The common room was a disaster. Chairs were overturned and tables were shoved haphazardly around. Broken plates of food that the maggots had long since abandoned were still scattered on the floor where they had fallen in the mad rush … Garen could almost hear the screams of terror echoing in the silent room as he surveyed the scene in the dim, dusty light that floated hesitantly through the broken door.
He brought his attention to the black jagged hole beside the kitchen door. The door to the basement had been torn from its hinges, and the floor in front of it was stained black with blood, or something like it. He walked without hesitation through the shattered doorframe, and down into the waiting darkness.
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