by Frost Kay
Tehl looked closely at his younger brother, noting the same ragged signs of exhaustion that surely marked his own face. When was the last time Sam had had a full night of sleep?
“Sam, you know that’s not true,” he said gently. “You know how much I appreciate everything Jasmine did for Sage. I owe her a debt for her sacrifice. Have I ever ignored such a debt?”
The fire popped and crackled in the silence as Sam stared at him. His brother’s shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. “No, you haven’t.”
“And I’m not starting now. I have a duty to Jasmine as much as to Sage.”
“You’re right.” Sam rolled his neck and straightened. “So, when do we leave?”
“Now,” Rafe rumbled. “Or the storm will catch us.”
Chills ran down Tehl’s spine as the wind blew his hood from his face and rain dripped down the back of his shirt. He pressed his heels into Wraith’s sides and urged his mount to move faster. The temperature had dropped steadily as they drew closer to Sanee. He cast a worried glance down at Sage. Her skin seemed almost translucent now. “Please don’t die,” he whispered, his voice lost to the howling winds and rain. She couldn’t die now.
He leaned forward in his saddle and kept his gaze ahead as familiar landmarks began to appear, his heart beating in tandem with every stride Wraith took. They were so close. Just a little further and they’d be home. When the spires of the castle rose in the distance like ragged teeth from the cliff, some of the worry in his chest loosened. Just a little further.
His surroundings blurred around him as he thundered forward, closing the distance between him and his goal. The only thing to rouse him was the guard’s cry that pierced the air when he neared the gates.
Tehl pulled hard on the reins, steamed breath pouring from Wraith’s nostrils. His men surrounded him and Zachael held his hands out. Tehl let the weapons master take Sage from his arms. He swung his leg over his mount and slid to the ground. The impact reverberated through his stiff legs, nearly bringing him to his knees. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain and questions others barked around him, and took his wife back from Zachael. He brushed past his men and rushed toward the castle, the rain pelting him the entire time as if to mock him. To tell him he was too late.
He burst through the castle doors near the sparring ring and startled a few maids. Brusquely, he charged forward, tuning out their squeals and gasps. His wet boots squelched against the lush deep-blue carpets, water dripping from his cloak in a constant pattern as he forced his tired legs forward with each step. Heat suffused his side, and he spared a quick glance toward the beast following close by him. Ah, so it was not his own presence that had startled the servants after all. Absently, he smiled. By noon, there’d be all sorts of monster stories floating around the castle.
Gavriel materialized next to him, followed by Sam, Rafe, Lilja, and Hayjen.
“I’ve sent a messenger ahead to alert Jacob and Mira of our arrival and to make ready.”
“Thank you.”
His cousin nodded and then stared at the beast. “Are you sure it was the best idea to bring the cat with us?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.
“There was no ‘letting her come,’ she just did. Be my guest to stop her.”
Gav shook his head. “Let’s hope she doesn’t eat anyone before morning.” A curse. “I’ll need to warn Isa. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep her from the man-eater once she spots her.”
“Maybe she’ll eat some of the bastards around here,” Sam said, adjusting Jasmine in his arms. “It would save us from ever having to deal with their idiocy again.”
A small smile curled Tehl’s lips upward. It was hardly the time to joke, but at least his brother was behaving a bit more like himself.
They cut through a room or two and used the servants’ darkened corridors to reach the infirmary. Tehl led the way, the others trailing close behind him. Mira hustled around the cots, tying her blond hair onto the top of her head. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she rushed toward him.
“How is she?” She pulled up short when the beast growled. Her eyes widened, seeming to take up her entire face. “Is that what I think it is?” she squeaked.
“Yes.”
Jacob took a careful step forward. The Healer showed more bravery than most men.
“She won’t hurt Sage,” Lilja murmured to the animal, daring to place a hand on the man-eater’s head. “Jacob and Mira are friends. The Healer will help her.”
Mira tore her gaze away from the feline and moved closer to pull back the cloak. She gasped. Tehl knew what she’d see. A woman pale and death-like, but more than that, a woman changed in a way not thought possible.
Mira grimaced, her eyes flitting once between his face and Sage’s unfamiliar one. In that one look, he saw many questions, but she kept them to herself. She placed her hand on his wife’s forehead and then immediately went to work. “Leave them on the cots and get out.” She pulled away and gestured toward the cots near the fire.
All three men moved into action, depositing their charges onto the designated cots. Jacob bustled around his herbs, placing pastes, tinctures, and tonics on a table with wheels. He eyed them over the rims of his round glasses, his copper eyes pausing briefly on Rafe and Blaise before settling on Tehl.
“You brought her back.”
Tehl brushed a wet strand of hair from Sage’s face. “Have I really?” It was too early to tell.
Jacob pulled back the cloak and scanned Sage, his expression giving nothing away. “She’s a strong girl. She’ll make it.”
“Can I assist in any way?” Lilja asked, stepping closer.
Jacob nodded. “I’d be pleased if you did, my lady.” He turned his attention back to Tehl. “You need to leave.”
Everything inside Tehl rebelled at the command. “I’m not leaving her.”
“We need to keep this room free of all contaminants. That means all of you.” Jacob scanned all the men glaring at him. “You’re a hazard to their health. If the stars are willing, we’ll save all of them, but I’m not taking the chance of you making them worse. Not to mention, only the princess is married. You are not anything to these young women. You’ll ruin their reputations. Unless you plan to marry them all?”
“We’ve already seen them,” Sam argued.
“But it wasn’t here,” the Healer reminded. “Appearances in the palace are different.”
“Wise,” Rafe murmured. He dipped his head and retreated, followed by Gav, and reluctantly Sam.
Tehl was Sage’s husband. He wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t deserve to be alone after everything she’d gone through. Tehl crossed his arms and stared down the Healer. “I’m not leaving her side.”
The old man adjusted his spectacles, eyes gleaming. “You’re wasting our time. I’m not saying you cannot come back, but you cannot be here now.”
Tehl fumed. He was the damn crown prince. He had the authority to do whatever he pleased. How dare Jacob give him a command?
“How dare you—”
“Tehl,” Mira said softly.
He glared at the blond healer. “What?”
She didn’t flinch at his sharp tone. “You will do more harm than good right now. Do you want to help?”
“Yes,” he gritted out.
“Then bring her mother.”
He stilled. Her family. The last time she was sick, she had asked for her mother. Tehl pulled a surprised Mira into a hug. “Thank you.” He released her and sketched a bow. “I’ll fetch her, myself.”
He placed a swift kiss on Sage’s feverish forehead and spun on his heel. If he hurried, he could have her mother at the palace in an hour. He spared one last glance over his shoulder at the unlikely group and then shut the door behind him.
Four pairs of eyes latched onto him. Gav, Sam, Rafe, and Hayjen all stood just outside the infirmary in various states of agitation.
“I need to collect Sage’s family.”
Hayjen held a hand out. “I’ll take
care of that.”
“I should be the one who goes,” Tehl said, moving through the men. “It’s my duty.”
A large hand settled on his shoulder. “Your place is here, with your wife. I’ll retrieve my sister.”
Silence. Then, “You’re Sage’s uncle?” Sam asked. “I’ll be damned.”
Tehl ignored his brother and smiled at Hayjen. “Thank you.” He didn’t want to leave Sage alone when she was so vulnerable. He glanced to Sam as Hayjen disappeared around the corner. “Does Jasmine have any more family?”
Sam snapped his mouth closed and held up a finger. “We’re revisiting this revelation that you kept from us.” His brother gave him a dirty look. “No, just the children.”
Right. Jasmine’s niece and nephew.
“Where are they now?” Tehl asked.
“Here,” Sam said, leaning one shoulder against the wall. “They’re in the care of Isa’s nursemaid.”
“Wait a moment.” Gav held up a hand. “As the only father among us, I advise against making the children aware of Jasmine’s presence until she’s well.”
“You don’t want the children to have to mourn her again?” Tehl asked. That was logical.
“Yes. They’ve only just begun speaking again. They’ve had enough sorrow in their lives.” Gav shook his head. “They deserve peace, not upheaval.”
“But do you really want her niece's last memory to be of the death of her aunt?” Rafe asked. “Speaking from losing someone as a child, the memory warps, but the guilt stays. You should give them a chance to say goodbye, or that little girl will blame herself for the rest of her life.”
Tehl dropped his head, thinking over the situation. Either choice could harm the children, but he would do anything to have one last moment with his own mother. “We’ll leave them be for now. But if things turn bad for Jasmine… They deserve a chance to say goodbye.”
Gav pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to argue, but dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Speaking of children, I’m going to go find Isa and hold her for a while. I’ll return in a few hours. Do you need anything?”
“Nothing but the good health of those women,” Tehl answered.
Gav hugged him and slapped him on the back. “She’ll pull through. Believe in her.”
His cousin released him and slipped away into the darkness. Tehl stared after him, long after Gav disappeared, unspoken fears swirling through his mind. He blinked when his eyes grew dry and the darkness shifted.
“You need to sit down, son.”
His father’s voice disrupted his reverie, the king’s face slowly taking shape in the shadows before him. His father hugged him tightly, but Tehl’s body stayed frozen as emotion battered against him like the sea against the cliff face.
“You retrieved her?” Marq asked.
“We did,” he choked out.
His father pulled back and stared him in the eye. “In what condition?”
“I’m not sure,” he whispered. He snapped his mouth shut when a gurgle escaped the back of his throat, sounding suspiciously like a sob.
Marq clapped him on the shoulder and sank down to the floor; patting the space beside him, he held out a bottle of spirits. “The waiting is the worst. Tell me what’s happened to my daughter.”
Emotion lodged in Tehl’s throat as he collapsed to the floor and took his father’s offering. The liquor burned, but it gave him time to collect himself. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what’s happened to her, only that she’s different.”
His father took the bottle and had a healthy swig before passing it to Rafe with a nod. “The experiences in our life tend to change us.”
That wasn’t what he meant. “She looks different.”
His father stilled and released a shuddering breath. “All women change. It’s part of nature.”
“Not this change.” The words tasted like ash on Tehl’s tongue. Her change was partly due to his failure. His wife still looked like herself, but part of her was now alien, otherworldly, too perfect. “Everything has changed.”
Marq stared at the back of his hands. “You’re right. You’re at a crossroads. This is where you decide your future.”
“My future?”
His father speared him with his serious blue eyes. “Everyone’s future.”
Four
Mira
It was like being inside a nightmare.
She scrubbed her hands vigorously in the basin until her skin turned red from the abuse.
“Mira, are you ready?” her papa called.
She ducked her head and panted, nausea swirling in her belly. For the most part, blood and disease didn’t bother her. She could look past it, but she couldn’t look past the hideous contraption wrapped around her friend’s neck or the way it dug into her tender flesh.
Mira gagged and grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself. She needed to pull herself together. Her papa’s hands weren’t as steady as hers these days, so she had to remove the collar. There was no one else to take her place; no one she’d trust with her friend.
Swallowing hard, she straightened and wiped her hands on her apron. She had a duty to do. She spun around and strode to Sage’s side. She’d changed so much in Scythia. It was almost like looking at a stranger.
Lilja placed a shallow bowl with warm water on the cot and pressed into her space, making Mira’s teeth snap together. She understood that Sage’s aunt wanted to help, but her hovering was making Mira feel more on edge.
“How do you plan on doing this?” Jacob asked, lying clean tools across a linen-covered table.
“Originally, I planned on placing a small piece of wood underneath the collar to keep it from her neck and then slowly breaking pieces off.” She leaned closer and pointed to where Sage’s skin was attached to the metal. “But the longer I examine her neck, the more I think it will cause more damage. If I pry at the metal at all, it’ll press the wood into her neck. That’s a concern for infection.”
“What about a towel?” Gwen offered, brushing a strand of hair from Sage’s pale face.
She shook her head. “It’s not strong enough. The metal will just rip through it and will offer no protection to her neck.”
“What about someone’s hand?” Lilja said.
“The chance of breaking someone’s hand, due to the pressure, would be high.” And extremely painful.
Lilja rolled her neck. “I’ll do it.”
“Can you handle the pain?”
A dark look crossed the woman’s face. “I was bred for pain.”
Mira blinked and narrowed her eyes. “I can’t abide a martyr here. Can you keep calm if I happen to break one of your fingers?”
Magenta eyes met hers with absolute certainty lurking in them. “This will be a cakewalk.”
It was unorthodox, but they didn’t have much choice. The crown prince had made it abundantly clear that he wanted the monstrosity taken off her as soon as possible. Gwen shifted the bowl out of the way so Lilja could sit on the cot and wedge her fingers between the thorny collar and Sage’s skin. Mira hissed out a breath when blood dripped down Sage’s neck, slowly soaking the white linen beneath her head.
It was painful to watch. Mira plucked a file from her toolkit and began to delicately file at the collar. She winced as each of her movements caused Sage to bleed, but she dared not speed up her work. One wrong move and the file could slip, slashing open her friend’s neck.
“You’re doing great, love,” Gwen breathed softly.
Mira bit her lip as she cut through one section of the collar. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then moved onto the next strand.
It was slow going and her hands began to ache, but she soldiered on, keeping a close eye on Sage’s blood loss. When she reached the last strand, she straightened and handed the file to her papa and shook out her hands. Only one last strand. It was the thickest one of all, and proved the most difficult to cut.
She held out her hand once the tingles had left her
fingers, and Jacob laid the file back onto her palm with an encouraging smile. Mira focused on the last strand and began to saw. It was stubborn, but it, too, eventually gave up to her insistence. She dropped the file into the bowl of warm water and glanced at her papa.
“I need you to start to pull the collar away from her neck where it overlaps. It should break where I’ve been sawing.”
Her papa shuffled to her side and began to delicately pry the shackle away from Sage’s throat. Lilja’s lips pursed, the only sign the metal was pressing uncomfortably into her fingers.
“That’s it,” Mira encouraged as the metal began to groan. “Just a little further, steady now.”
No sooner had the words come from her mouth when the collar snapped, and one side gouged into Sage’s neck.
“Damn it.” Jacob pulled the offending metal from her neck.
Mira snatched a towel from the table and pressed it against the heavily-bleeding wound. “We need a poultice to pack it.” She lifted the edge of the towel and peeked at the cut. “It’s bleeding too much to stitch it now.”
Her papa dropped the thorny chunk into Gwen’s hands and swiftly moved to his herbs. For some reason, she couldn’t pull her gaze from the collar lying on Gwen’s palms. What kind of human being did that to another?
“He’s not human,” Lilja murmured.
Mira blinked, and then realized she had said that out loud. “On that, we can agree,” she growled, glancing down to the crimson soaking through her towel. She frowned. That seemed like too much blood for the wound.
She lifted the edge of the towel and cursed. Not only had the metal cut Sage, but it had sliced Lilja across her fingers. She glanced up at the woman next to her. Lilja looked like she could be having tea, her expression was so calm. She stared at Sage’s aunt, and a random thought passed through her mind: she’d never play cards with the woman.
“Papa,” she called. “Make some for Lilja. She’s been cut, too.”