30. Kayan

THIRTY

Iam curled beside Rosalie. She cannot feel me or hear me, but I tell myself that perhaps I am giving her some comfort.

She cried for hours after her husband left. The fact he is her husband makes me sick to my stomach, and I know that shouldn’t be possible.

I hate him.

That shouldn’t be possible either.

And I know now that as soon as I see Alana, I need to ask for her help. She is powerful. She has magic that the Shadowkind believe can destroy Lord Eldrion, so she sure as hell can help me free Rosalie from this hell she’s living in.

I have never blamed Alana for what happened to me. I didn’t blame her for my death, or for my powers being taken. But if I have to use those things as leverage to make her help me, by the stars, I will.

Watching Rosalie cry, I wondered whether the spirit realm had made a mistake. Alana seems to be doing a perfectly fine job of guiding herself, so perhaps they were wrong. Perhaps I was meant to come back for Rosalie. Not Alana.

I know that’s not true. I feel it, like a lead weight, in the pit of my stomach. Even though she told me to go, I am Alana’s guide. But there is nothing in the rules that says I can’t help Rosalie, too.

If there was, I wouldn’t be here. They wouldn’t let me.

I am watching Rosalie fall into a fitful sleep when something snags in my mind. A tugging sensation that pulls me upright and makes me shiver from head to toe. Alana?

It can’t be. If she was calling me, I’d hear her voice.

But something isn’t right.

I stand and walk over to the window. I don’t want to leave. Rosalie is clutching the torn pieces of the sketch that her husband destroyed. I never knew she could draw. All the years we’ve known each other, and loved each other, and I never saw that piece of her.

We did not have enough time.

I look out at the expansive grounds of the house Rosalie now lives in. The old Sunborne fae bought her at auction for a reason, and although I’m not letting myself think about it – I know exactly what it was.

He needs a mother for his children.

She is to be lady of the manor house, but nothing more than a paid breeding mare for his pleasure. Paid in the trappings of an extravagant life.

This is what I thought Eldrion wanted with Alana when we were first taken – when he gave her chambers instead of locking her in the cellar with the rest of us. I was wrong. He wanted her for what she is, and because he was seeking answers to questions that sit heavy in his heart.

When he killed me, I saw a flicker – just a small flicker – of doubt in his eyes.

I remember it clearly because I thought he might change his mind. He hated me in that moment, but that wasn’t the reason he was killing me. He hated me because he had to kill me.

He is not the same as the man who owns Rosalie.

Yes, Alana fucked him – although she thinks I don’t know about it. But she wanted to. In all their secret meetings, he never once forced himself on her or made her do anything she didn’t want to do.

All they did was talk.

I turn away from Rosalie and close my eyes. When I open them, I am down in the garden by a resplendent fountain. I stare at it, watch the water pooling in the basin.

I want to send her a message. I could... I could send a stream of water to batter her window. I could write in dew drops on her mirror.

I could tell her I’m still here.

But what if I’m not?

If Alana’s journey comes to an end, and mine does too, Rosalie would lose me twice. Better for her not to know that I am watching her.

Better for her to think I am gone, and learn to live without me, than believe there’s a fraction of hope that we could be together again one day.

I dip my hand into the fountain. I cannot feel the water. I miss it so much my heart hurts.

“Is there an instruction manual somewhere?” I ask, shaking my head as I sit down on the lip of the basin. “Something that explains what I’m allowed to feel and what I’m not allowed to feel? What these messages mean?”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

I told Alana not to trust them and yet I have no idea who they are.

I am not in charge of the messages I am passing to her, and I cannot explain why or how that is the case.

No wonder she is furious with me; I am furious, too.

Except, I’m not. Because – like everything else – the fury is hidden beneath a blanket of cloud. Muted. Not quite there.

I am staring into the water, trying to persuade myself to move further away from Rosalie instead of sitting outside her window all night, when the same urgent sensation tugs in my gut.

This time, I know it has to do with Alana.

I look up at Rosalie’s bedroom one last time, then whisper a promise that I will return, and feel myself disintegrate into the air.

When I reappear, I’m in the middle of the forest encampment, and everything is in complete chaos. Briony and Finn are shouting at one another. The fire in the middle of the camp is dwindling; no one is taking care of it.

Yarrow, the Shadowkind with the large beard, is pacing up and down, shaking his head. By a tall, twisted tree, Pen and Raine are watching, muttering something.

I move towards them and listen carefully.

“What was she thinking?” Pen shakes his head. “She’s going to get us all killed. Eldrion will capture her again, force her to tell him where we are, and...”

“Don’t say that.” Raine folds her hands over her rounded stomach and sniffs. She looks like she’s going to cry. Pen puts his arm around her and hugs her tightly.

“Don’t cry, my love.” He kisses her forehead.

He is not the father of her child, but clearly they have become close since our capture and her husband’s death at the forest moon celebrations.

The night the Gloomweavers came for us.

“What’s happening? Where’s Alana?” I speak, but of course, no one answers, and I can’t show myself to them. It would cause even more chaos, more questions.

I move towards Finn and Briony.

“I have to go after her.” Finn looks completely panicked, and the expression on his face makes me doubt whether I was right not to trust him. I thought he was using her. I didn’t like the way he spoke about her to Yarrow and the others. But there is no pretence now; he is distraught.

“This is my fault,” he mutters. “I should never have let her think she could fight him alone.”

Briony clasps Finn’s hand between hers and squeezes tight. “This isn’t your fault, Finn. It really isn’t.”

Finn shakes his head and pulls away. “Yes,” he says. “It is. And I need to put it right.”

Storming over, face like thunder clouds, Yarrow booms, “What now, Finn? You’ve lost her. Our one hope.”

“She might do it,” Briony says meekly. “You know how strong she is. You wanted her to do this.”

“Not without backup,” Finn says. “Not without a plan.”

“She is a foolish woman.” Yarrow folds his arms in front of his chest, and Finn instantly squares up to him.

“Say that again,” he barks.

Yarrow stares down at him, then softens a little. “Finn,” he says calmly. “You know I don’t like Alana. Now is not the time to fight about it. Are you going to fetch her back or not?”

I hover between them, studying Finn’s face. He doesn’t hesitate for even a full second, just ducks into his tent, grabs his cloak, and says, “Fuck, yes. I’m going to get her back.”

He is on the edge of the encampment when Briony catches him up. “If you’re going, I’m coming with you.” She puts her hands on her hips. She is short, and a little round, and her wings are small. She is no fighter. But she loves Alana.

Finn looks like he’s about to object, but instead he inclines his head, and steps through the shield, extending a hand to pull Briony with him. “Come,” he says. “Let’s go.”

I am about to go with them when a flicker of movement behind me in the bushes makes me turn around. Maura is staring straight at me.

She walks slowly forward, bare feet not making a single sound as they meet the damp forest floor. She stops in front of me, her eyes looking at me but through me at the same time.

“You can show yourself now,” she says. “I think it’s time we talked.”

My body starts to tremble. The magic inside me flickers with the desire to follow her command, the desire to be seen.

“Kayan.” This time, she says my name. “I know you’re there, boy. And I’d like to see you now so we can talk about how to save Alana.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My blue light shimmers and glows. I watch my body materialise.

Maura takes a step back and blinks slowly at me. “Well,” she says. “It’s been a while since I saw a spirit. You look good.”

I frown at her.

“Don’t look so worried,” she says. “You won’t be in trouble.”

“How do you know –”

“I’ve been alive a long time. When my husband died, he returned to me for a while. Vague messages, there to guide me...” She sighs and bends down to pick a blade of long grass. She starts to chew it. “It wasn’t easy for him or me, and in the end, it proved no use.”

“What was he supposed to guide you in?” I ask, watching as her thin jaw crunches down on the grass.

“That’s another story for another time,” she says. “My point is, the spirits don’t always get it right. Sometimes their meddling is...” She shrugs. “Exactly that... meddling.”

“But Alana . . .”

“Alana does need your help, yes.” Maura turns and beckons for me to follow her. She sighs heavily as she walks. “I should have taken it all more seriously.” She shakes her head. “Foolish fae.”

“Taken what more seriously?”

When she stops, she’s a few paces away from the fire. She stays in the shadows, speaking in a low voice so the others don’t hear her talking to herself. “The message Eldrion’s mother left when she came to tell us what Alana really was.”

Something is building in my stomach. A sense of unease. The spirits aren’t happy. This is not information I was supposed to have.

“What message?”

Maura drops the blade of grass and turns back to me. “She told me Alana was going to save us from the coming terrors of the world. That she created her. Imbued her with empathic magic when she was in Magdalena’s belly and left her with us to be protected until the day the earth needed her.” Maura bites her lower lip. “I think that day is now.”

“But you hated her.” I step in front of her, squaring my shoulders, anger pressing its whispering lips against the inside of my skin.

“I never hated her,” Maura snaps. “I was afraid of her. I didn’t trust the Lady of Luminael, and I didn’t trust the Sunborne. And I don’t trust empaths.” She spread her wings and they flutter with annoyance. “I was waiting for Alana to prove herself. But every time I thought I knew what she was, something else happened.” She meets my eyes. “But that is the past now.”

“You believe she is to be trusted now?”

Maura wrinkles her nose and tucks her silver hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. But I believe we’ve run out of time for guessing games.” She points to the shield, the spot where Finn and Briony crossed through it. “We should follow them.” She meets my eyes. “Are you with me?”

I nod firmly. “I’m with you.”