Chapter 33

Dravyn

"I'm not sure which is more annoying," Valas muttered, gaze sliding between me and Mairu, "your pacing or her magic tricks."

The Serpent Goddess stopped midway through the spell she'd been absently performing, causing the book she was controlling to tumble toward the ground. She caught it with another flex of her magic just before it hit.

With a flourish of her wrist, she lifted it back into the air, directing it to the top of the castle she'd already built from dozens of other books. As this latest tome settled into place on top of one of the ‘towers,' her gaze narrowed on the Winter God, daring him to make another comment.

"It's very distracting," he told her with a shrug.

"You can leave if you're annoyed," she replied. "No one here is desperate for your company."

He smirked.

She flicked the book back into her control and aimed it at his head.

He remained perfectly still, unconcerned about the threat.

Their standoff eventually gave way to harsh whispers, a hushed argument—not their first of the night, and unlikely their last.

But neither of them left.

Because just like me, they were waiting; Karys still had not woken since she'd collapsed upon her return to the middle-heavens.

I'd felt her coming back long before she appeared in this realm. I'd sensed her power fluctuating and fading, too, and I'd tried—unsuccessfully—to reach her before she fell. It seemed she'd fled too quickly, too recklessly…but from what I didn't know.

What had she endured these past days?

What had she been so desperate to escape?

Too much time had already passed since we'd last spoken, making every additional second of her unconsciousness feel that much longer. We were all on edge as a result, our combined feelings of helplessness and uncertainty bristling like a living, snarling beast between us.

I continued to pace in front of the window despite Valas's objections. I was watching for changes in the darkness outside, for any sign of movement—my senses were on high alert, because I'd witnessed something earlier that I hadn't in some time: A tellesk . A shadow servant of one of the Moraki, sent down from Valla, the upper-heavens, to silently spy and collect information.

They never interacted with me or anything else, but they absorbed everything they encountered—even the very thoughts and emotions of the ones they were observing. It was always unsettling, being watched by one. Its presence felt like an omen. A sign that the powers above us were growing impatient, and perhaps tired of our mistakes and missteps in the mortal realm. I was hardly surprised by this.

Everything was such a fucking mess.

Another hour passed.

Valas and Mairu eventually struck up a new conversation, their tones still hushed but slightly more cordial now. Moth joined us, as well, leaving Karys for the first time since I'd carried her to bed.

The griffin was restless, but eventually settled near me, mirroring my attentive stare into the garden on the other side of the window.

After a few minutes, his tufted ears perked up and his tail twitched, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He slipped away, reappearing outside a few minutes later.

Chasing something, it looked like.

The flaming tip of his tail made him easy to track. I watched as he drove a small creature from the bushes: A shadowy, spider-like beast that scurried haphazardly about before leaping into the air and sprouting veiny, iridescent wings. It disappeared an instant later, thwarting Moth's attempts to grab it between his paws.

As I stared at the streaks of dark, shining residue it had left behind, a prickling sensation of higher, otherworldly power overcame me. The others had fallen silent behind me, likely noticing the twinge of power as well.

Valas rose from his place by the dying fire, coming to stand by my side and staring at what remained of the tellesk's residue. "The God of the Shade is monitoring this palace."

I sighed. "With great interest. That was not the first spy he's sent today. I suspect he's been sending them for weeks now; Karys has noticed their presence as well, I think."

He folded his arms across his chest, bending toward the window and trying to get a closer look. "Do you think what Cillian suggested to you is true? That Karys is a pawn in some grand scheme they haven't told us about?"

I didn't reply.

I didn't want to think about it. Doing so would only trigger an avalanche of yet more questions I didn't have answers to.

"What could they possibly want from her?" Mairu wondered. "And why not just be forthcoming about whatever it is?"

Valas snorted at this. "Have you ever known the Creators to be forthcoming about anything?"

She mumbled something in response. The Winter God turned and fired back an equally disgruntled response, and the two of them resumed their arguing.

I moved toward the door, finished with both of them. With the talking, the waiting—all of it.

I left without a word, wandering throughout the palace and its grounds, trying to pretend everything was normal.

I tended to Moth, who—in the short time between chasing the tellesk and now—had somehow managed to trap himself in one of the supply closets in the kitchen. Likely while he was looking for something sweet to steal.

After freeing him, I lingered in the closet for several minutes, taking note of the contents and wondering if it was stocked well enough. Karys had a habit of locking herself in the kitchen and testing every recipe she could whenever she was stressed or upset; whatever she needed to make when she woke up, I wanted to be certain she had the supplies for it.

While taking inventory, my hands fell upon a batch of treats meant for a selakir. It was a recipe Karys had created herself, featuring the dried savos fruit Zell loved so much. They would only last a short time on the shelf, I remembered her saying—and these looked close to expiring.

Glad to have a simple task that needed doing, I took the jar and went to summon Zell.

I found him quickly; he'd witnessed me taking Karys back to the palace earlier, and he hadn't strayed far from the grounds ever since.

He bumped the jar of treats aggressively with his nose—clearly recognizing what was inside it—but he didn't take the one I offered him. Not at first. He only stamped his feet and tossed his head anxiously before trotting behind me, sniffing the air and twitching his ears. Searching. Looking for the one who usually spoiled him with these treats, I suspected.

When Karys didn't follow me into the yard, Zell begrudgingly moved back to me, his long tongue peeling one of the treats from my hand. As he ate, his jewel-black eyes fixed toward the room where Karys slept, as if he'd managed to pinpoint her energy, faint as it was.

I soon returned to that room myself. Rieta exited just as I reached for the door's handle, her careworn expression brightening the tiniest bit as she caught sight of me—I hoped it was because she had good news.

"She's awake?"

"Gettin' there. She didn't recognize me when she opened her eyes, though. Called me Savna. "

My jaw clenched. "Her sister."

"That's what I thought." Rieta clicked her tongue, hands on her hips as she studied the partially-ajar door. She nodded me toward it. "Maybe you'll have better luck. Doubt she'll confuse you with anyone else."

I thanked her and quietly slipped inside.

Karys was far more restless than she'd been the last time I checked on her. Her blankets were twisted up as though she'd spent the last hour tossing and turning. Her ears twitched at the sound of my footsteps. Her nostrils flared. She inhaled deeply, and her forehead wrinkled in frustration, as if she was trying to get her senses to cooperate and zero in on the newest presence in the room.

Her lips moved, but she didn't speak—not out loud—though I heard her voice in my head, a single whispered word: Dravyn.

I answered in the same way—a simple thought, directed toward her: I'm right here .

Her head tilted toward me, eyes fluttering open and trying to focus.

I kneeled at her bedside, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair from her face. "Hello, Wildfire."

Her eyes closed, but her lips curved slightly upwards, recognizing the nickname.

"I made it back to you through the chaos, after all," she said after a moment of concentration. "I told you I would." Her smile faltered as she inhaled what sounded like a shallow, painful breath. "Sorry I'm late."

Something in her voice nearly unraveled me.

I'd come too close to losing her.

Far too close.

"It's all right," I said, taking her hand and lacing my fingers through hers.

She breathed in deeply. Exhaled slowly. Nodded.

The silence stretched between us, full of questions. "But I need to know," I began after a minute, "what exactly made you so late? What happened these past days?"

Her hand gave mine a weak squeeze.

I was hungry for details. For answers. I wanted to know what they'd done to her. Who had done it to her. Who I needed to hunt down next.

But it was asking too much of her, too soon, maybe.

Reluctantly, I said, "…A conversation for later, perhaps."

She breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand went limp, sliding from mine. Within moments, she was already dozing off again.

I stayed by her side for most of the next hour before deciding to leave her to her sleep. She was conscious again—that was enough for now. She needed to rest.

She stirred once more, however, as soon I stood and started to turn toward the door.

"I felt you," she whispered. "Your magic, reaching for me from the other side of the walls they'd put up. You were looking for me."

"Of course I was."

"For how long? I think I lost track by the end."

"You were missing for nearly five days."

She clenched the blankets and went very still, as if steadying herself under the weight of this knowledge.

"And I would have kept looking for you for an eternity, if that was what it took."

A pause. Then her voice, so quiet I wasn't sure if she was truly whispering or just pressing her thoughts into my head once more: "Even among the chaos."

"Even among the chaos," I agreed.

She settled back into the pillows with an exhausted sigh.

"Rest," I urged. "I'll be here when you wake up. Then we can talk."