Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A gnes let out a short laugh. "Your fever must be worse than I thought."

I shook my head, then stopped quickly when it made my stomach lurch. "I'm not delirious. It's the spell."

"Oh," Agnes said. Then she collapsed down onto the floor beside me all at once, limbs gone heavy. "Oh, shit."

"Yes," I agreed. "I'm sorry to report that the inconvenience level has been updated to moderate."

"But Grimm's not even here!" Agnes said, at a loss.

I winced. "That's the problem, actually. The magic, it acts up if Grimm isn't around. I barely noticed when we were at the Fount because he wasn't far away and because, well, I could easily sneak a glimpse of him if it started bothering me too much. But he went home for the harvest, and since then it's been getting worse."

Beside me Agnes was very still. "You knew," she said quietly. "You knew something was changing and you didn't say anything to any of us. Not even me."

"I thought I could manage it on my own. At least until the trials were over and Cassius could write another counterspell."

Agnes shook her head. "You're such an idiot, Leo," she said sadly, and the disappointment in her voice was worse than any amount of anger would have been. "Tell me what's changed. And I mean everything."

I described the gradual, creeping need. The stolen glimpses I'd employed to keep the symptoms at bay. The way that my heart's very function seemed tied to the spell now, beating out a frantic rhythm in my chest. How, without Grimm there, each breath felt like it was leaving a bruise.

By the time I was finished, Agnes's frown was deep enough to give Grimm competition. The last time she'd looked at me with such concern we were twelve and I'd just gotten the wind knocked out of me falling from a horse. The discomfort that had racked me then wasn't so different from now—as though a knife slipped under my skin with each breath.

"Leo," Agnes said. "We're right next to a whole room of people who could help us solve this. Your father is a powerful scriver, even if we told just him—"

"No!" I grabbed Agnes's arm. "He has a seat in the Citadel. He'd feel obliged to handle this fairly, and Grimm and I would be kicked out of the Fount."

"Better than you winding up dead," Agnes said bluntly.

"I'm not sure that's true." Agnes looked horrified, but I continued on. "I have no idea how far punishment for something like this would go, Agnes. Maybe they'd be satisfied by kicking us out, maybe not. All I know is that I don't want to be locked up in the Citadel because I accidentally cursed myself . Just help me get to Grimm. Then I'll be able to think clearly enough to decide what comes next."

"I don't even know where he lives."

"He's from Dwull," I said, remembering what Cassius had told me earlier. Was it really just that morning we had spoken? It felt longer. The day had aged me. I was a different person from the man who had looked upon the prospect of living with the spell and felt only mild annoyance.

"Dwull is a big province," Agnes said doubtfully. "How are we supposed to find him?"

"I have his address in the pocket of my coat, packed away with the rest of my things."

Agnes chewed on her lip, indecision plain on her face. I waited, hoping. I was getting to Dwull no matter what, but I wanted her help badly. The only thing worse than showing up on Grimm's doorstep to explain what was happening would be if I had to crawl there.

"All right," Agnes said. She drew in a deep breath, and by the time she let it out, her expression had morphed into one of steely-eyed determination. "Let's get you to Dwull."

Within fifteen minutes we were making our way down one of the hallways that led to a side door. My arm was slung across Agnes's back, and she was very kindly not commenting on how much I needed to lean on her in order to walk.

"My things—" I said weakly.

"I already got them from your room," Agnes informed me as we shuffled forward. "They're in the carriage I bribed one of your father's stable hands into letting us borrow. You owe me three gold coins, by the way."

"Pretty sure I'm going to owe you more than that by the time this is through." I laughed a little under my breath. "Imagine my father's face when he realizes I've run away, rather than sticking around to hear the rant he's got brewing for me."

"I'd rather not," Agnes said. "I'm already imagining my mother's face when she realizes I've left without so much as a goodbye. I was supposed to ride back with her to Luxe tonight."

I patted her left cheek with the hand slung across her shoulder. "You're a good friend."

"I'm the best friend."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed, then lurched away from her abruptly to lean against the wall. "Excuse me," I said, before expelling what little remained in my stomach onto the floor.

"Magic preserve us," Agnes muttered.

We made it the rest of the way without stopping, but each step cost me. I'd hoped that the spell would somehow sense my compliance and lessen its effects, but it didn't seem to care that I was doing my best. The tugging against my insides did not cease. I wanted so badly that my skin felt like it was on fire.

"How are you doing?" Agnes asked once we were situated in the carriage.

I whimpered. If anyone asked later, I would have denied it, but at that moment I couldn't help myself. At least Agnes was the only one there to hear.

"Just hold on, Leo," she said, in her most soothing voice.

Why couldn't it have been her? I thought blearily. If I was to be saddled with this curse, why couldn't it have been cast by someone I was already bound to? Someone who cared for me.

Agnes flicked the reins across the horse's back with a sure hand, and the carriage pulled away from the stable and toward the front gate, leaving my father's estate behind us as we struck out into the night.

My memories of that journey are hazy at best. Brief moments of lucidity were interspersed with fever dreams, and when I awoke, I noticed only fragments of our surroundings: The lantern at the front of the carriage cast weak light onto the road, and everything beyond that dim glow was just a suggestion of landscape in the dark. A shadowed mass of trees here, a hill there. I tried to let the rocking motion of the carriage lull me to sleep, but the curse drummed a ceaseless command against every tender part of me, until it was all I could do not to lean my head back and sob.

Hours passed that way.

We were going down what appeared to be a straight road with no variance in sight when I let out a sharp gasp and clutched at my chest, struck all at once by a strong need to move sideways. To turn, now .

"Here," I said. "Something's here."

The road, when Agnes found it, was really more of a path. Easy to miss in the dark. Agnes slowly guided the horse along the path until it ended in front of the looming, dark shape of a building—a barn, I thought.

As soon as we came to a stop, I scrambled out of the carriage on legs that shook.

"Leo, wait," Agnes said.

"We're close. I can tell."

Around the corner of the barn, I found rocky steps winding up a hill. I began to climb.

"Wait!" Agnes called out again, hurrying to secure the horse to the hitching post in front of the barn. I didn't listen to her. I couldn't. The curse propelled me onward, and the thought of not obeying made my chest feel like something was about to crack open within it.

A dark shape at the top of the hill turned out to be a tall fence covered in growing things. In daytime I thought it might have been a pleasant sight, but it was too dark and I was too feverish to appreciate it now. I followed the fence around, until I found a gate. A lantern hung next to it, the flame low. Pushing against the gate's door, I found it unlocked, which was surprising but suited me just fine. As the door swung open under my hand, I caught a shadowy glimpse of the courtyard and house beyond, details indistinct in the night.

Before I could step through the gate, something sharp traced the ridge of my spine, right between my shoulder blades.

"Don't move," a low voice warned.

I stopped, every muscle locking in place. The order quieted something within me at once. I barely had time to feel relieved by this before another came, fast on the heels of the first.

"Tell me what you're doing here."

When I spoke, my voice was wiped clean of its familiar cadence and inflections. "I came to find you." There was nothing else I could say. The first command was still in place, locking my lips tight against further explanation.

The steel against my back disappeared. "Loveage?" Grimm stepped round to look at me, eyes wide with surprise in the dim light thrown by the lantern. "What are you doing here ?" he asked again, in an entirely different manner than he had the first time.

I glared back at him, unable to do anything else.

"You can move," he said, realizing. "You can do as you like."

My muscles relaxed all at once, legs folding underneath me in a sort of controlled descent. I was shaking, not from pain this time, but the absence of it.

Grimm stared down at me. He was frowning, but it seemed to be from confusion rather than exasperation, for once.

I sprawled on the ground and grinned up at him tiredly. "I never thought I would say this, Grimm, but I'm actually quite glad to see you."

My exhaustion broke like a cresting wave, catching me up and carrying me along. I did not swoon (I refused to swoon twice in the span of one evening), but I did slump over sideways. And I did allow my head to be cushioned by the cool grass. And I did close my eyes.