31. Sybil

Chapter 31

Sybil

W ithout a beating heart, one cannot survive.

As healers, we are always told to guard the heart, ensure the blood keeps flowing. It becomes almost instinctual for all creatures to guard their hearts when danger ensues. Cut off a limb, and with good enough medication, you might still live. But tamper in any way with the most important organ in your body, and you will likely not live to see another morning.

The situation becomes dire, however, when your heart suddenly no longer lives hidden behind layers of skin and muscles, in the tight embrace of your rib cage, but outside of yourself. When it is suddenly no longer an organ but something someone else has power over—with the influence of life and death over you, over your heart.

Aramis is speaking but I cannot hear him. The fear of losing him makes my throat constrict, and air no longer reaches my lungs. I reach for him, fisting the once black tunic convincing myself that if I don't let go, he won't go through with this absurdity. Someone is trying to pull me away from him, but I keep him locked in my arms, his body shaking from the blood loss and the strain from using his magic against the dragon. He won't—he can't—hold for much longer.

"I cannot live without you," I finally say, the words barely audible as I force my body to continue to withstand the agony it's enduring. Aries lies not far from us, his broken legs still waiting to heal; his whimpers pierce the air as Phoebe, having given up on me, tries to move him out of the chamber.

"Run!" I shout to her, and the fox shifter looks at me. There is blood running from her nostrils. I can see the protest in her eyes.

"You have to come with us! We cannot lose both of you!"

"Find the others. Find the Council. Save us." Tears fill her green eyes, and she knows she has a duty to fulfill too. Her arms are wrapped around the wolf's middle, her face strained against the immense weight. My hands get progressively slicker with Aramis's blood, his body contorting as the dragon relentlessly slams against his shield, claws slicing through the invisible wind barrier, which seems to waver more and more with every attack.

"I am your mate, as you are mine. Until the end of time itself, you promised," I say as determination washes over me. Aramis's resolve wavers, and I take it as my time to strike.

I reach into my well of magic, and for the second time in my life, I let the power curse through me without restraint.

I channel some of my magic within him, willing his bloodstream to slow and his breathing to calm, pushing him to a point where his body will inevitably lose consciousness. Before his eyes fall shut, I kiss him as his eyelashes flutter, confused as to what is happening. The taste of blood and the salty tang of my tears mix in what is going to be our last kiss.

With a little nod, I urge Lemon to climb on Aramis' shoulder, and hope his ramidreju powers will be able to continue to heal him. Shifting into my demi-form, my horn appears, and it helps me prepare as the magic grows within me, an ethereal shine already peaking through my skin.

"Take care of him," I whisper to Lemon, who sneaks under Aramis's tunic before he closes those piercing blue eyes I fell for.

"I love you," I say as Aramis slumps into my arms, and the wall of air comes crashing down with him.

But the dragon does not seem to have realized yet. It flies to the top of the ceiling, gaining height for its last attack. Quickly, I channel more raw light magic into my hands, reveling in the familiar burn, and hope my gamble will prove fortuitous. I will it to lift Aramis out of my embrace. His body levitates, and I direct it to the mouth of the chamber—to Aries and Phoebe—before pushing myself to my feet.

"Hey!" I yell, drawing the dragon's attention. The light seeping through every cell in my body is so bright it almost blinds me, but before I let it consume me, I abandon myself to the familiar feeling of my body morphing into my full equine form.

The world around me is brighter, the smells sharper, and my magic seems to be… contained. The iron-rich scent of blood hits my nostrils, and I toss my head and whine. I paw at the ground, placing myself between the creature and the mouth of the chamber. The dragon comes flying down, claws outstretched in my direction. Before I direct my full power at it as I did to the basilisk, an ancient voice resounds in my head.

Unicorn. It says, low and rumbling, but I catch something akin to surprise in his tone. Flapping its leathery wings to arrest its descent, it hovers over me, and from this distance, I can see its razor-sharp fangs, yellowed with age.

Dragon ? I pause, unsure what's happening. My magic reaches out to the ends of the cavern as I prance nervously over the coin-studded floor. It cocks its massive head to the side, studying me.

It has been three hundred and seventy-five years since the last time one of your kind crossed my lair. Why have you trespassed on my sanctuary, little one?

It sniffs the air before exhaling, blowing out hot steam that makes my mane billow.

I've come seeking knowledge. I carefully weigh my words, still unsure whether the dragon is a friend or foe.

After a moment, it blinks its massive eyes, tongue licking out, testing the air before it lands with a crush on a heap of golden coins, making them jump in all directions.

I have slumbered for decades. What use would my hoard have to one such as yourself?

Why does everything on this quest have to entail so many questions?

There is a great evil upon our land–

It moves restlessly, pawing at the coins as its massive tail whips back and forth.

There will always be evil in this world. Rulers are born and die. The brave protect and sacrifice. So is the way of the world. But you do not belong to their world. Why do you help them so?

I look up, meeting the creature's gaze.

I am Sybil Vandeleur, the last known unicorn. These are my people. I will protect them until my dying breath. I will lead them out of the dark tyranny and into the light of salvation.

The dragon raises its head, blowing a pillar of flame into the air. I flinch as ash falls around us.

Brave words for such a naive filly. Are you truly the last of your kind?

I stamp my hoof impatiently on the ground. Have the others escaped? Has Aramis recovered from his injuries?

I do not have time for this! I seek Alpheaia's Book of Light. Let us take it and we will leave you in peace.

The colossal dragon tosses its scaly head, causing the cavernous room to reverberate with deep, rumbling laughter.

Sybil Vandeleur, last of the unicorns. You do not just take from a dragon's hoard. We spend our whole lives collecting our treasures. To take from us would be to live a half-life, a cursed life, never able to find true happiness.

I hastily blink away the hot, angry tears welling in my eyes, determined not to let my emotions falter. I will not fault; I will not fail. With unwavering determination, I lock eyes with the beast, feeling the weight of its gaze pierce through me.

Without it, my people are in danger. My mate bleeds out his life force with every moment we wait. Please, I'm begging you.

The dragon shifts its weight onto its right leg, coins falling with every move. As it changes position, I notice the muscle of its left leg starting to spasm. My magic flows to assess the beast and confirms my growing suspicion.

You're injured.

I paw at the ground, and the beast cocks its head at me again, wisps of smoke escaping its nostrils.

It is an old, festering injury.

It sighs, glancing back at its hind legs.

Let me heal you.

I plead, dipping my head and horn to the ground in submission before the mighty dragon.

You would heal me while your mate dies only a few feet away from you?

I shiver as a cold sweat wraps around my coat, and I feel my heart breaking. I glance between the great beast and the male lying on the ground behind me.

Some wounds never heal, child.

Let me try, I insist.

I move slowly toward it. The dragon swings its giant head, its beady eye watching my every movement. Embedded in its hind leg is an iron band studded with spikes. The puncture wounds from the spikes are open and raw after centuries of torture. Their edges are dark, as if the flesh itself was dying. I sniff closer to it, careful not to touch it and immediately back away.Poison.

How?

The dragonrears its head as I gingerly prod the metal band.

Greed has creatures of all kinds do terrible things. Those who put that cuff on me no longer live, if that's of any consolation to you. But with their death, I also lost the key to get rid of this torment. I lower my horn to the leg, willing my magic to heal but the skin refuses to knit together.

It won't heal as long as the band is in place.

It turns to move away from me. Resignation echoes in the way it drags itself across the chamber.

Go. Take your prince and leave.

It collapses with a mighty sigh, lowers its head to the ground, and pulls its injured leg closer to its body.

No.

I stand back up and move to its hind leg, again lowering my horn to the band. Focusing on my magic, I will make it come forth, but don't focus on the act of healing—instead, a desire to free the dragon. The light pulsates in my horn, a beacon bright and pure. As if scrying away from the light magic, the black and oily poison seeps out from the dragon's wounds, dripping from its leg onto the ground littered with riches.

Begone.

The magic wavers under my touch, the band vibrating.

I am Sybil Vandeleur, and you will listen to me.

I rear onto my hind legs, and with a final push of my magic, I slam them into the metal band. It cracks under the force, falling with a dead thud to the ground, leaving eight deep holes in the dragon's leg.

You did it.

The voice inside my head is laced with disbelief as it sniffs at the spiked band on the floor, void of magic.

I waver, dizzy on my hooves but pull my resolve, ready to heal the wounds.

Stop, child. You've freed me.

The dragon turns its mighty head, and I meet it eye to eye.

But you're still hurt.

Its tongue snakes out before licking, where deep punctures have left their mark. I watch as scales begin to cover the holes.

I will heal now that the band no longer poisons the wounds.

I run my muzzle over the new golden scales, overlapping where festering puncture wounds had been only moments before.

What is your name?

I tilt my head to the side.

I have gone by many names, but you may call me Tarmyth.

It nudges me back toward Aramis.

Save your mate, horned one. His light fades, even now. Your little creature has used all its magic to sustain him.

I canter back to Aramis' side, falling to my knees. I rest my muzzle against his back, large silver tears flowing freely. Lemon weakly climbs onto my shoulder and collapses. I watch as the skin begins to knit back together on Aramis' back slowly, but he doesn't stir.

I will on my magic, pulling back to my demi form.

"Aramis," I sob. With aching muscles, I roll him onto his back, the effort causing my breath to hitch in my chest. "Aramis, please hold on."

The silence stretches out;the faint drip of water echoing in the distance and the heavy breathing of the dragon behind us are the only sounds in the cavern. Tears stream down my face, their silver trails mingling with the crimson stains on the fabric of his torn shirt. Aries and Phoebe approach cautiously, paws padding softly on the rocky ground before they settle beside me.

"Sybil, we have to go," Phoebe urges, her voice trembling with fear and concern. Nervously, she tugs at the hem of her shirt, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric. I lift my gaze to meet her eyes, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"I'm not leaving him," I declare, my voice determined, though laced with desperation.

"I'm not sure how you tamed the dragon, but we can't stay here," she says as she grabs my sleeve, her gaze sweeping anxiously around the cavern. Her words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable.

"I'm not leaving him," I repeat, my voice steady, my resolve unyielding.

Pulling away from her grasp, I refuse to let doubt seep into my heart. "I can heal him," I declare, my fingers seeking the golden thread that binds us, pulsing with the magic between us. Gently, I cradle Aramis' head in my lap, my touch tender as I stroke his hair.

"Our story isn't over, my love," I whisper, my voice filled with longing. "Please don't leave me. I need you."

Reaching out with my magic, I search his body for further injury I may have missed but all his wounds are healed.

"Wake up, Aramis." My gut twists as I stare at his lax body in my lap, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. "Your body is healed, Goddess damnit! Why won't you awaken?"

Aries' body morphs beside me, pain etched on his face as he leans against Phoebe, one of his ankles still not fully healed. "I think it's his magic reserve. He used everything he had," he growls.

"How long will that take to replenish?" I stare up at him with tear-filled, blurry eyes.

"I can't say." He shakes his head. "I don't know much about elemental magic."

I stroke the side of his face, his stubble rough against my palms, before reaching for the bond between us. I think of the day we traveled through the silver apple trees and the night under the stars in the luminescent hot springs, the picnic before leaving camp, and the subsequent burst of emotion that only brought us closer. I wrap all those slivers of happy memories and pour them down the bond.

Stay with me. I need you.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall, feeling an ache deep in my soul. Lemon nuzzles at my cheek before curling around my neck.

And when I think I have lost the greatest gift the Goddess has ever granted me, Aramis draws in a shaky breath. Shakily, he lifts his hands to intertwine in my hair and opens his blue eyes. "I will always be by your side, pomme sucre, but don't ever do that again."

"Oh! Aramis," I lean forward, crushing my lips against his as chuckles and tears of happiness mix on my face."Well, don't you ever do something dumb like that again either?" I say against his lips.

A scattering of rocks draws my attention, and I glance up. Footfalls echo in the tunnel as white and powerful magic permeates the space. I try to focus on it, and the magic calls to me as if it were alive. It feels as if someone is running away with a piece of my persona.

The book!