Chapter 37

UNA

The terrifying hound as wide as three Pellasian horses combined had black eyes and slobber dripping from its bared fangs. It stalked closer with more caution. He'd lunged too quickly, and Ferryn had stabbed his sword into his eye. The beast had simply jumped back and pawed at his bloody, useless eye for a moment before circling to come again.

There was a sickly tang in the air around the animal. It was a disturbing ripple of negative energy, but not from disease. Or not from a natural one. Something magickal. Something evil.

Ferryn had been trying to reach the horses, to get us away from camp while Goll and the Culled killed the hounds. But the hound caught up to us first.

"Stay behind me," Ferryn ordered.

I didn't need a reminder. My entire body trembled at the sight of the slavering creature intent on killing and eating us. Without warning, the hound leaped again.

I screamed and shot straight up into the air, a tree's length off the ground. With shock, I realized I was flying. My wings had instinctively taken me high and out of danger. Ferryn hadn't noticed as he stabbed the beast before it whipped around and swiped a claw across his shoulder.

"No!" I gasped but my wings held me high.

Ferryn then lunged with his sword, slashing at the creature's throat. It yelped and circled back. Blood dripped from Ferryn's shoulder, the armor torn.

Then Goll, Soryn, Keffa, and also several beast fae ran into the fray. Goll had seen me, as had the others, before they went to help Ferryn. My wings began to tire, slowly lowering me as they finished off the maddened hound.

Goll turned and ran for me right as my feet touched the ground. He pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck.

"I flew, Goll."

"I know, my sweet."

That endearment warmed my heart, even more than feeling my body take flight, true flight, for the first time since my natural-born wings had taken me across Lumeria into Northgall years ago.

"The magick has given me back my gift." Joyful tears pricked my eyes.

"I'm so happy for you," he murmured, continuing to hold me for another minute before pulling away. "Are you all right?" He cupped my cheek gently.

"Yes."

With a tight nod, he said, "Come."

He kept me close as we joined the others around the carcass.

"Oh, no." I ran to Ferryn, who was holding his arm. Meck was now beside him, checking the injury on his shoulder. "You must get to Dalya," I told him.

Ferryn's expression widened with surprise as I approached and inspected the injury.

"It's fairly deep. You need healing. Quickly."

His yellow gaze was more intense than usual, his pupils dilated from the stimulus of the attack, darkening his eyes. He smiled warmly. "Do not worry about me, Mizrah. I will heal quickly from this. I've had worse."

"Don't argue with me. Meck"—I turned to his brother who was staring at Ferryn with severe concern—"take him to Dalya. She needs to work on the wound right away."

"Yes, my mizrah."

Then I turned to join Goll and the others around the felled beast. Goll pulled me by the waist into his side.

"You thought we'd sent an attack on you," Redvyr was saying.

"It had crossed my mind," admitted Goll, "which made no sense since you'd already helped us find Grindolvek."

Redvyr's face and chest was spattered with the blue blood of a wolf, his claws dripping with it. I would've recoiled if not for the fact that our fae didn't look much better. Goll had somehow remained unscathed.

Bezaliel stared at the dead Meer-wolf. "They were diseased—crazed. Meer-wolves don't attack encampments."

"Yes," I spoke up. "I could smell something was wrong with them."

"You could smell it?" asked Goll.

"Like bad magick," I tried to explain more fully. "Dark magick. It's still lingering in the air here," I noted, shivering at the feel of it. "You don't sense it too?"

There were a few questioning looks. Goll frowned and shook his head.

Redvyr's expression was grim. "We've seen some strange things of late. This is merely one of them."

"What kinds of things?" asked Keffa.

Redvyr shared a look with his chief. When he didn't answer, I asked, "Signs of madness?"

The beast lord rumbled a growl then answered, "Yes. It's usually something or someone coming down from the mountains."

"The Solgavia Mountains," clarified Soryn.

Redvyr nodded. "These creatures must've been there, come down since the weather is changing."

"Goll," I whispered. "The prophecy."

"What prophecy?" snapped Redvyr, his tail twitching. So was Bezaliel's.

Goll relayed quickly how the gods had sent a warning about madness spreading in a vision I'd found back in Issos.

Redvyr shared another look with Bezaliel, who said, "We won't be wintering that far north this year then."

"No," agreed the beast lord. "Perhaps we'll go a little farther east this year. I suggest you return to N?kt Mir, King Goll. Get your pretty mizrah back to safety and out of these wild lands."

With that, he and the other beast fae turned and stalked away.

Goll ushered me back to camp, my mind stewing. Unfortunately, there were two dead wolves in the middle of our encampment, but we couldn't leave while the injured were tended to. Not to mention Pullo reporting that two had died during the attack. There would need to be a funeral pyre for them before we moved on.

"We can't go back to N?kt Mir yet," I told Goll as soon as we were alone in our tent. "We have to go to Solzkin's Heart and find the last text."

When I thought he'd argue with me and bundle me off without listening, he surprised me yet again. "I know."

"You do?" I stepped closer and pressed my hands to his chest, needing to feel his warmth after such a harrowing ordeal.

"I won't ignore the gods, Una. They've set you on this task. It's obvious we're almost there. But we'll be cautious heading farther north to Solzkin's Heart."

"Of course. We're so close."

"I know." He trailed his clawed fingers through my hair then cupped the back of my head. "We'll find it. Then we'll head home where I can keep you safe."

He pulled me close, holding me tight. Despite the danger that seemed to be surrounding us, I felt safe in his arms.

As I walked with Hava to check on Ferryn, my thoughts were a whirlwind.

We'd burned the funeral pyres for the two fallen of the Culled at sunset. One was Pullo's quiet friend, Tierzel. It had hurt to see the usually jovial wraith fae so grim, tears shining in his eyes as we said goodbye to his dear friend.

I'd hugged him after we'd sent him to the afterlife with prayers to Vix. I remembered too well the pain and grief of losing Min so violently. Pullo welcomed my comfort and thanked me for it.

The other wraith fae I didn't know as well. But both had been loyal to Goll and kind to me over the past weeks. Their loss had cut us deeply.

Keffa sang a song about souls finding contentment in the afterworld, meeting other lost loved ones there. It had been somber, but there was another emotion wafting into the air with the lingering darkness from the wolves. Fear.

Goll had told me he'd not seen animals behave in that manner. Meer-wolves were predatory pack animals, but their primary prey was deer and wild hog. They'd only attack a fae when starving and desperate, and he'd never heard of any, not even a pack, attacking an entire encampment. There was indeed something wrong with the beasts.

Sickness, rebellion, and madness will prevail.

The plague—sickness—was already ravaging across Lumeria. This was the first touch of madness we'd seen. But if the oracles were right, and they almost always were, then we'd see more of this madness before it was all through. Not to mention a rebellion awaited. We'd just finished a long, grueling war. Who would want to stir up more trouble while Goll's warriors occupied every city and was also helping to rebuild Lumeria?

Perhaps the rebellion would be one of the shadow fae. Goll and his warriors had said enough times that the shadow fae didn't like the wraith fae. Perhaps one of their kind would go against the wraith king.

"Against Goll."

"What?" asked Hava. "What's against Goll?"

"Oh. Nothing." I pulled my cloak tighter as we wound around the tents, nodding to a group of the Culled around a campfire.

They all respectfully stood and bowed as we passed, and my heart sank a little further. We'd come out here at my insistence. Tierzel and the other Culled had died because of me. A sickening sense of guilt weighed on my heart.

Hava looped her arm with mine and kept close for warmth as we drew nearer to the last tent on the south side of the encampment. That was where we were told Meck and Ferryn were.

"I'm so happy you have your wings back," Hava said softly. "Well, you've had them back for a while, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, Hava. Me, too. Though I will say, I need to exercise them. I could barely hold myself up while Ferryn fought that wolf."

"Well, they did the trick and lifted you to safety. It's wonderful, Una."

"It is," I agreed, hugging her arm and leaning into her, wishing this strange, dreadful feeling would go away. It hadn't left since the attack. Perhaps, it was simply an aftereffect of the trauma.

"All we need is the final god-touched text, and I'm sure I'll get back the other magick I lost," I added.

"Healing magick," said Hava. "A very special kind if it will allow you to cure the plague."

That was my hope. It had me turning my thoughts to my father who, I was certain, was not long for this world. And Baelynn. My heart clenched at the thought of losing my dear brother. I simply couldn't lose him.

I had to find this last text. By the gods, I was certain I'd be able to help my people then. All people who were afflicted. Goll had said there were rumors of the sickness now touching some of the dark fae as well. I was desperate to stop it.

Goll had promised to escort me immediately to Issos and to Valla Lokkyr once we'd found the last of them. He wasn't the tyrant I'd once thought him to be. He could've refused to allow me to go back to Issos. He truly wanted peace between our people, as I did.

As we approached Meck and Ferryn's tent, we heard low voices arguing. I pulled Hava to a stop, noticing Meck and Dalya standing outside the tent. Dalya seemed distressed while Meck whispered loudly.

"That's enough. You should go ."

I'd never heard Meck sound so angry. He always had an amiable mannerism.

"I'm trying to help," Dalya said with desperation, her eyes swimming with tears under the afternoon sun.

"You've done enough," snapped Meck with fury. "You should leave ."

A sense of certainty swept through me; he didn't mean the tent. It seemed he wanted her to leave the encampment altogether. How strange.

"Is Ferryn not healing?" I asked, stepping forward.

They both turned sharply in surprise. I didn't want to continue to eavesdrop on what seemed a heated, private conversation, but if Ferryn's condition was worse than we thought, I needed to intervene. My innate need to heal, despite no longer having that magick, still beat strong and true deep in the heart of me.

Meck's expression shifted back to the docile wraith fae I was accustomed to. "Mizrah. It's nothing you need worry about."

I stepped forward with Hava close at my side, though I no longer held her arm. Dalya stared at the ground reverently and held her clasped hands demurely in front of her like always, though I could see they were trembling.

"Of course I'm worried. Ferryn was protecting me when he was injured. Is his wound much worse than we realized?"

I didn't want to accuse Dalya of not having a strong enough gift, but it was a fact that some were more powerful healers than others. Perhaps she didn't have enough magick to heal Ferryn.

"I've done all I can," Dalya said, then dipped a curtsy, glancing at me with something that looked like regret before walking away.

"Meck, let me see him."

A panic swallowed me that Ferryn might've been fatally wounded while trying to protect me. Meck tightened his jaw, looking as if he wanted to protest. But then he opened the flap for me and Hava to step through.

The room was shrouded in blue from the coal burning in a small stove next to the pallet of furs on the floor. As was usual for a fae healing, there were no bandages or dressings put on the wound. It needed open air to the elements while the healing magick worked on the injury.

I frowned as I knelt beside Ferryn, whose eyes were closed. The wound had sealed and seemed almost healed. Completely.

"What's your concern about the wound?" I asked Meck, confused by his exchange with Dalya. I'd expected to find a festering injury.

Meck stood on the opposite side of the bed, his jaw clenched as he stared at his brother. He didn't answer.

"He seems to be healing just fine."

Meck nodded, his gaze still on his twin brother.

Then Ferryn stirred, his yellow eyes blinking open. He smiled when he saw me. "Mizrah," he mumbled sleepily. "You came to see me."

I smiled, my hands clasped in my lap. "I had to be sure you were all right. And I wanted to thank you for protecting me."

"Always," he murmured. "It's my place to keep you safe." He lifted the arm closest to me, the opposite of the wound, and placed his hand on top of mine.

I flinched at the familiarity but realized he must be drowsy from the healing magick, which can have a drugging effect sometimes. Lifting my hand from under his, I patted it then set it beside him on the bed.

"Meck had me worried," I added lightly. "He made me think you weren't healing well, but it seems Dalya's magick is doing the trick."

He chuckled in a way that raised gooseflesh on my arms. "Dalya," he murmured, his eyes glazing a little. They seemed darker than usual, a deeper gold, not the vibrant yellow I was accustomed to.

"Mizrah," said Meck, "he needs more time to sleep and rest."

"Of course." I smiled up at Meck, who wore the amiable expression I knew so well, but there was something in his eyes that concerned me.

"Thank you, my mizrah." Ferryn's speech slurred. "I knew you'd come to me."

"Mizrah," urged Meck.

Hava was at my side, helping me to my feet. Not that I needed it. Hava seemed to want to leave, and I didn't blame her. Meck was acting strangely. Ferryn was, too, but he was under the influence of healing magick. But why was Meck speaking with such anger to Dalya? And now an urgency to make me leave.

"Good afternoon, Mizrah," said Meck, opening the flap and sounding more like himself. "And thank you for coming. We both appreciate your concern."

"Good afternoon." I left with Hava close at my side.

We moved back toward our own tents in silence until we were well away from Meck.

"What was that all about?" hissed Hava. "Why was Meck so angry at Dalya?"

"I don't know. Ferryn is healing just fine. It makes no sense."

"You should tell King Goll."

That was exactly what I did after we'd undressed and crawled under the furs together that night.

"It was just strange. Meck seemed angry with Dalya. But Ferryn's wound appeared to be healing well."

Goll coasted a warm palm up and down my spine. I lay with my head on his chest, my arm draped across his waist.

"Meck is very protective of his brother. They had no father in their lives. Not that mine was any example. But I had Keffa and others like him. Their mother, my mother's sister, moved them to Belladum after they were born here in Silvantis." He paused, seeming lost in thought, but then added, "I believe Meck is simply afraid for his brother. I owe them some extra care as their kinsmen."

I propped my chin on my hands so that I could gaze at him. His dragon eyes glowed silver in the dark of the tent. They were lovely.

"Did you know them growing up?" I asked.

"No. They're younger." He played with a strand of my hair that fell across his chest. "Born when I was away at the Gall Guild. I met them a few times when my mother had them visit her. Before she died. But not after. Not until I'd taken my father's throne and was looking for faithful allies."

"I understand your loyalty, but I didn't like how harsh Meck was with Dalya. I know what it's like to be a healer and unable to heal someone."

He tucked the strand of hair he'd been trailing through his fingers behind my ear. "You're thinking of your father and brother."

I nodded.

"We set off tomorrow for Solzkin's Heart," he said. "I've sent Morgolith ahead with Soryn and Pullo to meet a friend he has in the shadow fae clans. They'll meet us at Solzkin's heart tomorrow at sunset."

"We're that close that we can reach it in one day?"

"We'll take Drakmir. The rest of the Culled will follow." His mouth tipped up in a small smile. "And I'd like to take you somewhere tomorrow before we meet them."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise." He cupped my jaw and stroked the pad of his thumb across the apple of my cheek. "Now, get some sleep."

Sighing, I snuggled closer and tried to fall asleep, though my mind wandered, envisioning Meck's hard expression and Dalya's tear-filled eyes.