CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 10

SLADE

It’s been four days.

Four days, and Auren still hasn’t stirred. She lies on my bed silently, only moving when Hojat changes her dressing and adjusts her sleeping position so she doesn’t get sore. And despite the fact that the sun has risen and set multiple times, not a single thread has been gilded by her touch. Not the fabric of the pillow beneath her cheek, not the new gloves or leggings on her body. Not an inch of power has come out of her, and I don’t know what to think.

The storm has raged and raged, as if trying to seek revenge for the fact that we avoided its wrath and beat it here. To get back at us, the tempest has now decided not to leave.

My attention jerks to the door when Ryatt strides inside without warning, a pissed-off look on his face, green eyes flashing as they level me with a glare.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I say, though there’s no energy behind my words.

He stops in front of my chair, toeing past the half dozen books discarded on the floor beside me, forgotten and shoved aside since my mind won’t allow me to actually read anything. I can’t—not when Auren still lies here unmoving.

“You need to get out of this room.”

I snort. “You’re giving me commands now, brother?”

“No, brother. I wouldn’t dare to order the great King Rot around,” he bites back. “But you aren’t eating, you’re barely sleeping, and you smell like shit.”

I roll my eyes, ready to shove him out of my room. My mood plummets more each day when Auren doesn’t wake up. I haven’t left her side a single second, concern and fear risen up to my ears so it’s all I can feel and hear and think of. “Get out, Ryatt.”

He lets out a disappointed sigh. “You need to get a grip.”

My eyes flash up to his face. “Get a grip?” I snap, on my feet in an instant, my face in his. “You think that I don’t have a white-knuckled grip on myself every second of the day? I don’t have the luxury of never not having a grip on myself.” My entire body is tense, my tone gnarled. “Since the moment I had to use my magic against her, I’ve been this fucking close to snapping. Do you get that? I have to hold the reins around my power constantly, can’t give it a single fucking inch. So no, I don’t need to get a grip. Because I haven’t been able to loosen it since I got here and realized she’s not waking up.”

Ryatt takes in my fuming expression, but we’ve gone head-to-head many times, and while most people would back down in the face of my anger, he’s not one of them. “This is exactly why you need to get out of this room.”

I shake my head, spikes trying to shove through the sleeves of my shirt. Even now, I can feel the smallest ones punching through the curve above my eyebrows.

“Look at you,” he says with a note of disgust. “Let me see how bad it is.”

Scoffing, I turn away, stopping in front of the fireplace. “Who sent you in here? Lu? Tell her she doesn’t need to worry about me.”

“No one sent me, but we’re all sick of your shit,” Ryatt replies. “Now let me see.”

“Fuck off.”

“You think I want to babysit you? I’ve got better shit to do. So roll up your Divine-damned sleeves and let me see. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Fuming, I spin around and shove up both sleeves, just to get him to go away. As soon as my arms are revealed, Ryatt’s lips press into a thin line. “Fuck.”

I shove my sleeves back down. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he retorts. “You need to go expel some power before it eats you alive.”

“What about the scouts?”

“Don’t try to change the subject. I’m handling Midas’s scouts, don’t worry. Now you go handle your shit.”

“I’m not leaving her alone.”

Ryatt strides over to the chair I was sitting in and plops his ass down while I stare at him incredulously. He even goes so far as to brace an ankle on his knee and grab one of my books from the floor to start reading.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I’m staying with the golden girl so she won’t be alone. Now go away and rot some shit before you explode and destroy all of Deadwell.”

My fists ball together, the roots along my fingers writhing and snapping against my skin, trying to pierce through me like thorns. “I can’t.” Watching her, staying by her side, it’s the only thing that’s keeping me from losing my shit entirely. Because she’s still not awake. She’s still not okay.

Ryatt looks up at me, and for the first time since he strode in here, his expression sobers. “The sooner you take care of your magic, the sooner you can get back here by her side,” he tells me, his tone no longer biting. “So go. I’ll stay right here with her. I promise.”

I start to shake my head, but he cuts me off. “Slade. You’re about a second away from snapping. Sitting here watching her isn’t going to help, because even when she does wake up, you’ll have to leave immediately to take care of your magic. So go do it now before you fucking implode.”

I agonize in indecision, but now that Ryatt has very unapologetically pointed out how strained I am, I can no longer ignore it. My power is writhing beneath my skin, prickling over my back and chest, snapping at my arms, and making my fingers throb as it pushes against the underside of my fingernails.

“Fine,” I finally relent, realizing I can’t even let out a full breath. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Take your time. Make sure you expel enough so that I don’t have to shove you right back out into the storm again two hours later.”

“How cold is it?”

“Been dumping snow for four days with no end in sight and a wind chill that can chap your ass cheeks in a second.”

I groan. “Fucking perfect.” Heading into my closet, I grab the first coat and gloves I see, yanking them on before I pull on my boots. “Watch her,” I tell Ryatt. “And have someone signal me if she so much as twitches.”

He gives me a mock-bow without actually getting up from the chair. “Yes, Sire.”

“Shut up.”

With his chuckle sounding at my back, I stomp out of the bedroom for the first time in three days, just to find both Lu and Judd leaning against the walls in the corridor. I stop short for a second when I see them, but then roll my eyes and keep walking. “What was the order going to be?”

Lu follows behind me with light steps. “It was going to be Judd next if Ryatt couldn’t convince you with his brotherly love,” she tells me with a smartass smirk. “Judd can usually cheer you up enough to get you to stop being a prick and listen. But if that didn’t work either, I was going to go in last and just issue some good old-fashioned threats.”

Despite my bleak mood, I feel my lips twitching. “What kind of threats?”

“As if I’d spoil the surprise. I might need them down the road.”

I stop at the front door, turning back to look at the two of them where they’re still perched in the corridor. “Fancy a fly?”

“What, in that storm?” She lifts her foot, shaking her fluffy slipper. “These would get ruined.”

“Of course. Judd?”

He grimaces before hitching a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got some firewood I need to re-stack.”

“Such loyalty,” I say dryly.

Lu gives a wave before turning to walk into the living room. “Have a nice rot trip,” she calls.

A snort escapes me before I yank open the door and walk out, letting it shut behind me. My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of the cave, the air so frigid that even the blue fluorescence seems to shudder.

The closer I walk to the mouth, the louder the storm becomes. I stop just inside, watching as it rages in front of me in a swirl of white and wind. At my feet, snow has blown in and piled up past my knees like frozen rubble warning me of the battle outside. It’s late afternoon, but you wouldn’t know it with how thickly the clouds are covering the sunlight.

“Of course I’d have to do it in this weather,” I grumble to myself before I snap up the hood on my coat and bury my hands in my pockets as I step outside.

Immediately, the wind shoves into me, and I tuck my head down, barreling through it, turning right to head up the curve of the mountain rather than left to go back toward the village center.

The flakes come down in constant streams, but luckily, someone has been keeping up on the pathway, scraping away the snow before it can build up too high. I keep my head down against the gale, my hood threatening to rip off every step of the way, all while I curse my magic’s temper tantrum.

The way to the Perch is all uphill, which isn’t ideal when it snows, which it does quite often. It takes me longer than usual to get there, but I finally reach the entrance of a smaller, jagged-mouthed cave. It looks like an open maw with fangs ready to clamp down as you enter, but the real biting beasts are the ones inside.

As soon as I breach the entrance, the weight of the wind is gone, but the weight of my power pushing against my skin seems to have doubled. I kick my boots against the stone before stepping onto the tufts of straw laid down on the ground. My shoes crunch over it, and I look around the domed cave, so high up that it’s a struggle to see the beasts who perch at the very top.

Rivulets of blue fluorescence glow deep and steady, while a dozen timberwings sleep in wooden roosts built like enclosed balconies along the walls of the cave, their heads tucked beneath bark-colored wings.

I walk across the cave, a few of the beasts chuffing at me with irritation as I pass them by. Argo likes to roost at a perch thirty feet up, and I stop just below, arms crossed in front of my chest, waiting for him to stir, but he doesn’t. “I know that you know I’m in here,” I call up to him. “We have to go for a ride.”

He doesn’t move.

Rot starts to seep from my feet, making a patch darken the straw. “Argo.”

If anything, he buries his head further beneath his wing.

“Look, you’ve been sleeping for days now. You’ve had more than enough treats and rest.”

He finally deigns to pop out his muzzle, iridescent eyes glancing down at me before he lets out a little clicking chirp through his razor-sharp teeth. “Yes, yes, you’ll get more treats after this flight. Now come on before I rot the whole damn Perch.”

Argo gets up with all the lazed enthusiasm of a cat who was interrupted during sunbathing. Finally, he leaps down, landing nimbly before he shakes out his wings with a giant stretch.

“Enjoy your nap?” I drawl.

He licks his chops in response.

With a snort, I walk over to where the saddles and reins are kept at the right hand side of the cave and get to work buckling him. When I’m done, I swing my leg over and strap myself in. I barely have the thing tightened in place before Argo takes off through the opening at a breakneck run. The minute we have the sky above us, he lets out his wings and launches into the air.

I grapple with the strap, holding on before my ass slips right off the back, while Argo streamlines straight up through the storm. My hood flies off and the snow pummels my face, the temperature so cold that it feels like all the warmth has leached from my skin and frozen through my clothes. All I can do is hold on, my eyes closed, teeth gritted as I’m soaked through and left freezing while the wind howls its complaints against me.

When we finally break through the clouds and Argo straightens out, I’m able to catch my breath enough to give him a glare at the back of his feathered head. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

He harrumphs in response, but I know there’s a damn gleam in his eye.

Now that the worst of the storm is below us, I pull the reins, directing him where to go, but my rot stabs against my fingers and hands, making me seethe at the pain and nearly lose my grip.

Argo shoots across the sky while I pant in shitty, ineffective inhales. It feels like the roots are wrapping around my chest like a boa constrictor, not letting me take in a full breath. The lines are cutting through my neck, clamping down on my jaw and snapping down my collarbone.

With sweat beading at my brow, I tap Argo with my heel and direct him to land. I don’t want to go too far, but I also can’t be too close when I let my magic out. I need to be far enough away from the village and to also get this over with as quickly as possible so I can get back to Auren.

Argo lands in the middle of nowhere, the snowstorm just as harrowing. I jump off his back and give his hindquarters a tap. Knowing exactly what to do, he launches back into the sky, circling beneath the clouds.

I look around the sparse white landscape, but visibility is down to maybe thirty or so feet. Rolling my shoulders back, I quickly take off my gloves, shoving them in my pocket, and then I shake out my arms and close my eyes, focusing on my power. It’s pent-up and overwrought, pushing against me with irritation.

Forcing myself to breathe in and out, I make sure I’m centered enough to grapple control over the monumental force pumping through my veins.

Then, I let it out.

Rot ruptures out of me like a spewing volcano.

My knees hit the ground as violent torrents shoot through the snow like demonic roots come to poison the earth. And that’s exactly what it does.

Power flows from me in waves, and I feel every inch of it as it pours from where I’d kept it dammed up.

Now unleashed, it rumbles from my feet and spreads from my hands, delving into every inch of ground it can get to, rotting, decaying.

Destroying.

In a matter of seconds, there is no untouched snowy ground. Streams of toxins have spanned out in all directions, while I stand in the center of the wicked timepiece, counting down the seconds until the power stops pushing, stops punishing.

My body shakes from the amount of magic expelling from my body, and when it finally ceases its endless torment and I feel like I can breathe again, I close it down. Like a fist around a straw, I strangle the flow until the rot drips out its last drop.

Exhaustion drapes over my limbs and scours down my back, leaving me raw and heavy. I blink blearily around me as the roots in the ground settle and stiffen, their movements finally going still.

With shaky hands, I try to curl my fingers, noting the roots of power on my skin have receded and I no longer feel them crawling up my neck or down my back. A hefty price, considering the fetid and impure land I’m standing on that’s now dead and desecrated with an awful stench.

After taking in several labored breaths, I have enough strength to lift my head and let out a sharp whistle. Argo comes down within seconds, feathers frozen, maw covered in patches of snow. He kneels down more than usual so I can heave my body on top of his back. Once I’m buckled, he takes off, not once chattering at me for my slumped over position. He’s carried me in far worse postures.

It’s dusk now, and I look down at the land as he lifts us into the air, seeing the stretch of rotted lines polluting the ground like venom spread through the earth. He carries us up above the clouds, cutting off my view, and even though I’m tired, the relief of expelling all that pent-up power is immense. I can finally take in a full breath now, and all my rot has retracted back to the thin, painless lines that I can feel around my chest.

I barely feel the wind or the snow as Argo flies us back to the village, but by the time he lands and steps back into the Perch, I’m frozen through. When I slip off the saddle and land at his side, I give him a scratch on his muzzle, and he nudges my arm for another. “Good beast,” I murmur.

Although I no longer feel like a dam about to burst, shoving out that much power at one time is debilitating. I do my best not to look as drained as I feel while I start to unsaddle Argo. Just as I’m doing the first buckle, the caretaker, Selby, hurries over, though I hadn’t even noticed him in here. “I’ve got it, Sire. Just brought in a fresh feast for them as well. He’ll be eating good tonight.”

With a grateful nod, I start to walk out, but his voice stops me. “Did Captain Lu or Captain Judd find you, then?”

Slowly, I turn back around. “Find me?”

A confused look crosses his face. “Oh, beg your pardon, Sire. They saddled a couple of timberwings just a minute or so ago. I thought they’d gone to meet up with you.”

Dread fills my stomach, and I don’t even answer him before I turn and sprint from the cave. They wouldn’t have gone out in this storm to look for me unless something was wrong. My steps slip and slide as I rush downhill, but I don’t stop until I make it to the Grotto, with fear and worry biting at my heels.

Hojat nearly barrels into me as soon as I step inside, his brown eyes wide, scarred face gone pale. “Thank Divine you’re back.”

A shot of adrenaline surges through me, spikes ready to burst through my back. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Lady Auren.”

Panic drives through the center of my heart.

I knew I shouldn’t have fucking left.

“Is she awake?” I demand, already stalking down the hallway.

“Not her,” he calls after me, making me stop in my tracks to pin him with a fierce gaze. “It’s her gold.”