24. Aramis

Chapter 24

Aramis

I rush up from the floor, nearly slipping on the boots me and Nero have left by the door. My legs are unsteady, as if I've spent the night before drinking myself dumb. Even my head feels clouded. This is not normal. Her voice reverberates in my head and a sour taste fills my mouth. I slam the door open and break one of the rusty hinges.

"Can't ye hold yer piss until the morn?" Nero grumbles as he pulls the blanket over his head.

"Something isn't right," I hiss back as the hairs on my arm stand on end. My gut is filled with a sense of wrongness as I run to Sybil's room. A faint, unfamiliar scent like sweet honey lingers in the air.

"Sybil?" I call out at her door but am only met with silence. "Sybil, are you well?" I repeatedly slam my fist on the wooden door, nearly cracking the panel.

When no answer ensues, I push open the door to the girls' room, and my eyes are immediately drawn from the empty sleeping roll to the open window—no sign of Sybil.

I turn to the fireplace, where only coals and embers remain, and see Marcelene lying on her side, curled up in herself.

"Marcelene!" I call out but she does not move.

"Please don't—" I can't even finish the words and rush to her side, palms sweating and heart racing as I pull her on her back.

Marcelene's sharp feline eyes snap open, locking on mine and there's only terror in them. I exhale in relief as I see her chest barely moving up and down, but she lays on the floor like a puppet doll, her eyes begging for help.

"Nero!" I scream. The draken comes rushing in bouncing from wall to wall to help with his balance. When he reaches the door, he freezes as his eyes fall on Marcelene's figure. His hands hold the door frame with such strength, I hear the wood crack.

"I think she's paralyzed," I explain before he jumps to tragic conclusions. Nero is already at the witch's side, gently picking her up from the hard floor. Marcelene's body slumps in Nero's arms, but he's careful to support her head and make sure she can see what's going on around her. Her eyes fill with tears at the sight of Nero; the draken gently picks her up without saying a word, his nostrils flaring.

"What in Alpheaia's good name is going–" Aries rubs his eyes as he makes his way out of his room. His legs seem to be as uncooperative as mine, but his eyes are sharp. He inspects the girls' room and immediately understands what is going on.

"Where are Phoebe and Sybil?" He asks.

I rake both hands through my hair and look at the ceiling.

"Gone," I say, unable to add anything else when all I want to do is scream. Chaos ensues in my mind, wanting to do so many rushed things. I ultimately feel paralyzed in my indecision. I pace around the room, heart palpitating until Aries firmly rests a hand on my shoulder, and I stop. The shifter's eyes are set on mine. The resolution in them is a slap to my face, and I know I have to calm the fuck down. After I take a deep breath and nod to Aris in thanks, he straightens his back and crouches to the floor. He wrinkles his nose to sniff the air before letting out a feral growl.

"Corylorisis mushroom," he says, struggling to push himself back to his feet, as if his body was fighting his every command.

"Corylorisis mushroom?" I repeat, lifting a brow. "What does that–"

"It's a rare fungus whose powdery spores, if harvested correctly, can be used in small doses to induce sleep," he says, meeting my gaze, the air hanging heavy between us.

"And in larger doses?" I ask, body tensing as I already guess the answer.

"Temporary paralysis."He looks at Marcelene, his hands flex, claws peeking out as if shaking off the last of the effect of the poison. "An overdose would be lethal."

"How the fuck did Tricella find us so quickly and in the middle of Goddess damn nowhere," Nero shouts, still cradling Marcelene. Before I can answer, footsteps approach down the hall.

"What's going on?" Phoebe asks sleepily from the doorway. Her eyes widen when she notices the witch still unable to move. "Where is Sybil?"

"Where were you? I thought you were standing guard!" I whirl to face her, hands clenching at my sides.

"I-I was! I must have dozed off!" She stands up quickly, body trembling, and I notice she can barely stand—no better off than the rest of us.

A peal of thunder booms in the distance, shaking the small house.We all look out of the window, and the thought of her out there fills me with murderous fury.

"We've all been drugged. I don't think any of us would have been able to hear someone break in. Except for Marcelene, she might know something." The witch's petite body looks even smaller in Nero's arms, her colossal spirit having been blown out like a candle. Her eyes are barely open, lids fluttering from the exhaustion. Nero fixes her unbound blond hair out of her face with tenderness.

"How long does the paralysis last?" I ask Aries, who rubs his chin in thought.

"Difficult to say without knowing the dosage they used. Could be up to two days."

Marcelene's eyes widen in panic, and more tears fall down her cheeks. Thunder continues echoing outside, but it gets fainter at every outburst.

"We cannot wait. There must be something we can do now," Nero chides and mindlessly takes Marcelene's hand.

"If I remember correctly, red clover helps to eject the toxins from the blood system," Phoebe says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can check Sybil's healing satchel to see if she has some, or anything else we can use to help Marcelene."

"That's a good idea, Phoebe. We also must perlustrate our surroundings; there must be something to give us a sense of direction, footprints in the mud maybe," I say, trying to think strategically instead of letting my emotions get the better of me, something Nero was clearly struggling to do.

"Where the fuck is Axton?" he growls, and we all turn to the hall.

I rush to the other bedroom, careful not to stumble on my own steps. There, half hanging off one of the kids' beds, lies the thief, eyes wide open but struggling to control any of his limbs.

"Arrimis" he slurs his words as his tongue almost hangs out like a dog. The toxins must have had a much stronger effect on him. I stand by the door frame and cross my arms over my chest as Axton tries to get on his feet. "A haaaand maaybee, maaite?"

I return to the girls' room, where Phoebe is crouched by Sybil's satchel, checking vile after vile. I see from the window that Aries is already outside, examining the area thoroughly.

"Axton's got the physical mobility of a worm at the moment, which is very fitting. I am sure he had nothing to do with this," I say, trying to keep my breathing in check before anxiety takes over.

"Got it!" Phoebe exclaims, holding up a glass tube with a reddish powder. "I just need to brew some tea." She runs out of the room, and I scoop Lemon off the floor where he's curled up and sleeping. He lets out a squeak of annoyance as he peeks open a sleepy eye, sniffing at my hands.

"You too, little fella?"

Lemon wiggles out of my hands on unsteady paws, climbs up my sleeve, and looks around the small room from his perch. I reach up to pat his head but pull away as he nips at my fingers.

"They can't have gotten too far." I try focusing on the mating bond, seeing if I can sense her but there's nothing. My magic still feels miles away from me. I clench my fists and stare at the metal wrapping around my wrists.

"Nero, if Tricella has her?—"

"Stop, right now," he says. We stand there looking at each other while Marcelene slowly dozes off in his arms. "Focus, Aramis."

"Here." Phoebe comes storming back into the bedroom, holding a steaming metal cup. I take the few blankets and Sybil's wool cloak and prop them against a wall to help Marcelene lean against them. Nero gently lays her down, and with Phoebe's help, they move Marcelene's jaw and head to get some of the tea down her system. Nero and I look at the witch, then at Phoebe expectantly as she stands next to me.

"What?" the shifter asks, furrowing her ginger brows and then scoffs. "Are you expecting this to work like magic?" She shakes her head and says to herself, "Men really have to learn the art of patience. Leave the woman alone." Phoebe nods to the door. "She'll wake when she's ready. I'll stay with her."

Lemon crawls down my shoulder and settles in the pocket of my leather jacket. Nero and I take our swords from the main room to join Aries outside under the faint rain. The moon sits high in the sky but is barely visible through the thick gray clouds.

"The muddy ground held some of the kidnappers' footsteps," Aries says as he sees us approaching. "I even shifted and caught a scent but," Aries looks at us, confusion etching his wet face from the rain drops falling from his hairline. "They were shifters."

"Impossible," Nero says matter-of-factly and goes to inspect the footsteps himself as we follow. "Why would shifters want to take one of their own? Every shifter in Shadowvale knows about Tricella and the Council of Thorns by now."

"We're at war, Nero. People do desperate things for all sorts of reasons when they're frightened," Aries says and looks at me. It's a kindness that he thinks desperation drove my actions against the shifters. I crouch next to Nero to inspect the markings in the mud before the rain washes them away entirely.

Nero conjures his demi-form, scales glistening under the faint moonlight. He takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Aries is right."

"How many?"

"Four, potentially five."

We stand again, worry clawing at me like a chimera.

"I can't wait longer," I say. "Nero, go back to the house and stay with Phoebe, Marcelene, and Axton. We don't know if they plan to return to finish the job. Aries?—"

"I'll head west. Let's meet back here in three hours." Aries flashes me a grin, his sharp canines flashing. "Goddess speed, Prince." He crouches, his body molding into his wolven form before he extends his claws and launches himself into the woods.

I see Nero hesitating to let me go alone, his hand jostling with the hilt of his sword.

"She needs you," I say, looking through the window at Marcelene asleep in the golden light of the fire. Nero nods before returning inside.

I trudge out of the desolate village and off into the woods, heading east.

Where is she, my mate?

Sybil!

I call out her name over and over, reaching through the bond, hoping to catch even a glimmer of her to lead me in the right direction.

The woods are not kind at this time of night. I keep my senses alert as creatures lurk in the shadows watching me, waiting for me to trip and end up at their mercy. The familiar weight of my sword sheathed at my side gives me some comfort in the absence of my magic. But the wind carries screams and whispers, trying to play with my head. I shake them out before they can bewitch me and focus on the sounds of nature. The sound of water has me turning a sharp left and soon I come to a small stream. I kneel, cupping my hands in the freezing water and bringing it to my lips, but as I do, the mirrored image of the moon waivers in the rippling water.

Alpheaia .

I reach into my tunic and pull out the stone necklace, letting it spin on its cord in the moonlight. No light pulses from within, and there is no sense of direction or purpose. I yank it off my neck, throwing it as hard as I can, but it bounces harmlessly off the trunk of a tree, landing in the dirt. It's useless.

Just how I feel.

"A prince now powerless and without a throne. Where has your little unicorn been stolen off to this time?" A musical male voice says behind me. I turn, unsheathing my sword, and see the silhouette of a shadow fae leaning against a tree trunk.

"What do you know?" I ask, eyes narrowing.

"Not everyone is to be trusted. You failed to listen to your instincts once. What is it telling you now?" My mind flicks back to the rebel village.

"Aries," I growl as my hands clench at my sides. But his attitude toward me had changed. Was it all just a ploy to lead me down the wrong path?

"Perhaps. The wolf does have a temper, but could he turn against his own?" he muses.

I rack my brain, trying to remember if anyone else stood out at the village, but I come up empty. My mind is only full of the kindness the refugees have shown me.

Aries seemed to be the least affected by the toxins. Could he have faked it? Did he agree to split so that he could have an excuse to run away?

"Tell me what you know, where is she?" I glower, grinding my teeth together. My patience is beginning to grow thin, and I am beginning to feel like he's the cat and I'm his mouse.

"Temper, temper, princeling . Anger does not become you without your wind to cool you down. Where are your manners? Did they lock those away along with your powers?" He gestures nonchalantly to my wrists.

I flinch at his words. "Would you please tell me who and where they've taken Sybil?"

"No."

I clench my teeth, feeling the pulse in my temples begin to pound. As I'm about to lunge forward with my sword, the shadow fae comes flying in my direction. Bony black hands grab my face as whisps made of shadow cloud my vision and wrap around my wrists and ankles, slowly lifting me in the moonlight shining through the clouds.

"Heed my words, Aramis Adrostos," the Fae's voice echoes in my head, making my every bone shake. "You are the tipping point. There will come a time when sacrifices must be made, when your soul will be a weight on the sacred steps of the Goddess's temple. She's been watching you. Your choices might look like they're your own, but like millions of water drops create an ocean, so do your choices. You will save or condemn your kingdom. Follow the bond, follow your heart."

I free-fall to the ground, nearly snapping my ankle. Shaking my head, I try to get the Fae out of my head, but when I turn to face him again, he's gone. I open my palm, and the gifted necklace I had thrown away begins to pulse with a faint glow as I turn northward.

"Fucking shadow fae." Lemon pokes his head out of my pocket and begins chittering.

"Yes, yes, hush. I know he was inadvertently trying to help without intervening, but did he have to be so cryptic?" I roll my eyes as I push northward through the foliage.

My chest constricts as I trudge deeper into the dense undergrowth. The eerie silence only adds to my anxiety, but I cling to the tenuous bond that ties us together.

Lightning streaks across the sky, followed by the booming sound that reverberates through the air. In that fleeting moment of light, I catch sight of a torn cloth fluttering in the wind, snagged on a bramble.

And Sybil's family ring.