Chapter 51

"Set him down in here." Bexley diverted to the left as soon as we hauled Zorander inside. My old friend was pale as death, shaking, close to collapse. "The old larder. Everything's stone; we can strip his clothing off then take him to the kitchen where you can heal him."

"Why not heal him by the fire?" Tavion braced Zor against one of the walls. "At least let him get warm. He's fucking frozen."

"Contamination," I muttered, peering at the faint trail of black we'd left behind us. "There's no use in healing anyone until we get this ash off us, and I mean every last speck. Otherwise, we'll be fighting a constant battle we'll eventually lose."

"This room is cold," Bexley explained, wincing when he untied his cloak which fell to the floor in a cloud of dust. After just that short exposure, one side of the mage's face was a mass of burns, and his bare arms had fared no better.

"The temperature should keep down the spread," he explained. "We close the door behind us and leave all the contaminated clothing in here. Might buy us one night to rest and regroup." His eyes fell on Zor. "We could all use some sleep."

"That's what I'm hoping." I blew out a breath.

The eastern side of the castle was compromised, ash blowing in through the broken-out windows, piling up in the corners, drifting across the marble floors. Everywhere the black dust touched, tiny veins of black crawled across stone and wood and fabric.

"What if I used magic?" Anaria asked slowly, uncurling her red, swollen fingers.

"Do you know how to use your magic to kill blight?" Bexley asked softly. "Have you any idea how your power will react to flesh and blood? Whether or not it's safe?" She shook her head, her eyes pinned on Zor.

"We'll have to do this the hard way, Anaria," Bex said, his voice kind. "No magic until we know for sure you won't do more harm than good."

"We all strip down. Leave your clothing—every single scrap of clothing, mind you—in this room. Then we rinse off with that." I jerked my head to the raised cistern of well water in the corner and the moth-eaten towels piled beside it. "Use the pitchers. Do not cross contaminate the water."

Tavion's nose wrinkled. "This smells like shite."

"There's no blight and it's all we have. Tristan's already cleaned up. He's upstairs finding clothing for us." I stripped Anaria's cloak off Zor, holding back my curse when I got a good look at his back.

"This looks bad." I helped peel off his shirt and frowned. "Some of this damage looks older than today."

"It is." I lifted an eyebrow and my friend shook his head. "Long fucking story." Zorander struggled out of his trousers, kicking his boots into the growing pile of discarded clothes. Everything was coated in the ashy blight, and I filled up a pitcher with the murky water then poured every boggy drop over Zor's head.

"That's fucking cold, arsehole," he wheezed. "And it does taste like bog water."

"Then you'd best keep your mouth closed," I warned him, looking over to the strangers. "You two. Start stripping or you can go back outside and take your chances."

I didn't bother asking them who they were or where they were from. We were all in the same boat now. We either got cleaned up fast and I healed everyone, or we'd be in bad shape and would never leave here alive.

And if my healing didn't work, or if my magic ran out…then we were fucked.

"Oh. I almost forgot." Before I could stop him, Zor rooted through the pile, kicking up more dust. He straightened, something gleaming in his hand. "Here. If the healing doesn't work…I found the pendant."

I stared down at that bright red stone for one frozen moment, then dipped the whole thing into the cistern and wiped the surface clean. "Anaria. Once we're all finished, you'll have privacy to get yourself cleaned up. Tristan will help you while I take a closer look at Zor's injuries. Bex, you're second, then the rest of you can get in line."

I wiped every crevice and divot on that pendant, then handed it to Tristan when he arrived with a pile of clothes. "Put this with the…boxes. Somewhere safe until we get everyone cleaned up and healed. And if…she happens to show up, you take this and the knife and fly as far away from here as you can."

I proddedthe worst spots on Zorander's back.

These had been recently healed, and not terribly well.

My friend lay on his stomach in what had once been the formal dining room, one of the few places free of the remnants of Solok's visit.

I hadn't planned on returning to Ravenshade.

Not after hearing what these fucking Descendants had done to Anaria, not after realizing what coming back here did to her. No, I would have left Varitus the second the wall fell. Headed north to the mountains and found a cave to hunker down in while we planned our assault on Corvus.

But here we were, injured and trapped, sitting ducks for the Oracle.

I pulled myself away from those dark thoughts. "These look like dragonfire burns." I'd healed enough of them after the Southwell skirmish to know. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Bexley, Tav, Tristan, and the two strangers—Finnian and Kael—sat in a line along the wall, stripped down to the duke's silk skivvies, waiting their turn, their pale skin marked with angry red burns everywhere the ash had touched them.

My initial exam of Zorander showed that despite angry wounds on his back, most of his recent injuries weren't life threatening. A small mercy, that. He'd taken the brunt of the damage protecting these two males, and I wondered at the story behind that.

He had still-healing broken ribs, his arm was mending from a fracture, and his dislocated shoulder had to be put back into place. Beneath layers of my healing magic, even the older scar tissue smoothed out to fresh, pink skin.

But I couldn't figure out the twin bulges on his shoulders right above his scapulas.

They were hard, bony, almost identical.

I'd never seen anything like them, and my magic skated over them like they weren't even there. If they were an injury or an infection, my magic would have clustered there and mended what was broken.

"Zephryn happened." Zor grunted when I prodded the protrusion above his shoulder blade. "Bastard was in a fucking bad temper when he burned down Trubahn's shop."

"That was months ago, Zor. Months." I fed another burst of magic straight into the bulges, Zor's muscles tensing beneath my hands. "How did you really get burned? You did something stupid, didn't you, and you know if Anaria found out, she'd kick your arse."

"Lower your voice. She is still going to kick my arse, trust me."

Then the whole story came out. Cosimo and the time travel device. Finding the pendant. Nearly being roasted alive. The Oracle's arrival in Blackcastle and his subsequent escape and plummet into the forest when he'd run out of magic.

"Then Tristan's shadow passed over us and I thought I was dreaming."

By the time Zor finished talking, the wounds on his back had knit back together and the two males were looking at the door like they might have a better chance at survival outside.

"You might have mentioned all of this when you crashed down into our little refuge," Finnian grumbled. "You weren't exactly up front with us."

"You were planning on killing me out of hand. I would have told you I was the Fae King himself to save my skin." Zor met the old male's stormy gaze with a steely look that had Finnian glancing away. "I had to reach my princess. There was something I had to give her."

"Aye. The pretty necklace with the red stone." Finnian crossed his arms over his chest. "Had I known it was so valuable, I might have asked for a trade."

"The amulet wasn't his to trade. This belongs to me." Anaria stepped into the room bundled in a too big shirt, leather breeches, and her old boots. The second my eyes fell on them, she protested. "I cleaned them twice, and Tristan went over them a third time. I need at least one thing that fits, and my other set of leathers is back at the Wynter Palace. Please, Raz, I already had to give up my favorite leathers. Let me keep the boots, at least."

Bexley frowned. "You're taking a great risk, Anaria."

"The first sign of black, I toss them away. I promise." She patted the pendant hanging from her neck. "Thank you for finding this, Zorander. Even though you almost killed yourself in the process."

An uneasy silence settled over the room at the soft gasp that escaped Kael's mouth.

"Didn't tell us you were the commander of the Solarys army, either," Kael muttered. "Who are you people, and why did you come here?"

"Concerned citizens trying to build a better world," Anaria said breezily. "Now step up and let Raziel the Magnificent heal you, then we'll sit down and eat like civilized people and discuss what to do next."