Chapter 54

By the time I made it downstairs the next morning, I was worn down by nightmares that ate away at my sleep. By the exhaustion that dragged my thoughts to dark places.

I'd be lucky to stay seated on Tristan's back until we reached the Wynter Palace.

"There's a good argument for going back to the palace. I left the page with the symbols there," Raz was saying, though I only heard bits and pieces. "Maybe we missed something that could help."

"My experiments are still there," Bexley pointed out. "Yes, she smashed my potions and shredded my books, but there could be something to salvage. And you need time to learn how to master your witch magic, Anaria."

"We're out of time." I rubbed my burning eyes. "We have days at best, Bex, not months. I don't have time to master anything."

"Still, I could teach you some basic skills," he offered casually. "A few tricks to help until we have time for proper lessons."

I didn't have the heart to tell him we'd never have time for a proper anything.

Chances were the Oracle was on her way to claim the magic, and the second she arrived, this was all over anyway.

"Here. You need to drink something." Tavion pushed a glass of something that looked suspiciously like liquor over to me before he ran his fingers down my cheek, worry sparking in his eyes. "It's the weakest wine I could find since the cistern's contaminated now. We'll have to make do until we reach the mountains and find an unpolluted stream. When is Tristan due back?"

That brought me out of my fog. "He left?"

"Before dawn, he carried Finnian and Kael beyond the blight, though there's no telling how far he had to go to reach safety. They have money enough to buy passage on a boat and start a new life across the sea."

"Fuck, that sounds good," Raziel muttered, taking the chair beside me and draping his arm over my shoulders. The second our skin made contact, magic began flowing into me, gentle and warm, relaxing every strained muscle, easing the never-ending vise squeezing my heart.

"White beaches and clear water," I murmured.

"Sleeping all day." Raziel's smile turned blindingly bright.

"Hold that thought," Tavion said as wingbeats boomed against the front of the castle. "Because we're about to find out just how fucked we are."

"Always such a ray of sunshine, wolf," Raziel muttered.

This wing of the castle was the only safe zone left, and we'd cordoned ourselves last night.

Bexley had guided me through setting up a protective ward around the undamaged wing of the castle, including a landing pad outside big enough for a wyvern. The task had taken too long, the magic was sloppy and haphazard and drained me to the core, but so far…the rot hadn't gotten through.

And I hadn't set foot into the ruined eastern wing where –according to Bexley—blight had overtaken every last surface. I hadn't been outside, but all around us was nothing but silence.

No birds or frogs singing in the forest, no dogs barking, no rush of the wind.

Only that endless, deep quiet, as if Corvus had wiped away everything that had a voice.

"Where is Zorander?" Raz murmured in my ear. "Don't tell me he's still sleeping."

"Out like a light and I didn't have the heart to wake him. He was completely burned out, Raz. Pushed himself too hard while he was injured and didn't give himself time to heal. Then he weathered the fall of the ward. After the fall into the forest."

"He's had a lot of falls." Tavion picked at his teeth, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I should go check on him and give him some shite. I'll bet he missed us."

I pulled him back down. "Let Zor sleep as long as he wants. Him being awake isn't going to change whatever news Tristan's brought and won't change where we go next. He'll need all his strength to reach the Wynter Palace."

"True enough. I'm more worried about his back. He took a lot of damage yesterday." Raz fed more magic into me, and I slid out from under his arm.

"Stop," I told him quietly. "You still have to carry Tavion to the palace and you're as tired as the rest of us. All I have to do is manage not to fall off Tristan. If you want to treat someone, save your strength for Zor again when he wakes up."

Tristan blew into the room, eyes slightly wild, hair tangled around his head. "The blight's contained to the estates closest to the wall, but it's only a matter of time until it spreads west. East of here…" He shook his head, red hair spilling over his shoulders. "Caladrius is overtaken. I dropped Finnian and Kael off safely, but on my return flight I got a better look, and that entire realm is done for. Only a few isolated spots remain clear."

Fear jolted through me, and Bexley's eyes met mine. "Your wards haven't been breached. They're holding."

"Then witch magic is still keeping the blight at bay. That's something, I suppose," I mused. "Can we assume the palace is still safe?" Because if we flew all the way there and that place was corrupted and none of us could go any further…

"The only way to know for sure is to see for ourselves. The flight would take me half the day." Tristan pulled on a shirt. "Otherwise, we are taking a chance."

"If we knew for sure," Tavion said slowly, "I'd feel better about our next move. Nightcairn's out of the question, and Stormfall's too far."

"And the fucking Oracle is in Blackcastle," Tristan growled, coming to stand beside me.

Or on her way here, I didn't add.

"We only have enough food for today," Raziel pointed out. "Unless we go raiding."

"That's the plan, then." Tristan tied his hair back behind his head. "I head to the palace to make sure it's safe. Raz, you go to Whitehall. The main house is still untouched, and I think everyone's gone. Bring back as much food as you can carry. We need fresh, drinkable water; Anaria can't drink wine all day. And where is Zorander? We need him down here to help make these decisions, for fuck's sake."

"Sleeping." I rose, my aching muscles protesting the movement.

"We need him," Tristan apologized, kissing the top of my head. "I'm sorry, Anaria, but we need his input, even if it's only for a couple hours."

"Fine. I'll go up and check, see if he's awake."

I climbedthe never-ending staircase to the bedroom, struggling to pick up my dragging feet, my leg muscles weak from exhaustion. I was so damn tired I could curl up right here on these steps and go to sleep.

But the truth was, I didn't want to spend another minute here.

This castle was a tomb, the eternal resting place to the victims of a celebration that ended in slaughter, victims who thought they held this entire realm in the palm of their hands, only to discover they were only sheep to the stronger, ravenous wolves they never saw coming.

Were we the sheep now? I wondered, dragging my tired body up the last few steps. Were we the ones who imagined a bright and shiny future that was nothing more than an illusion?

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wooden door, hand poised on the knob.

Maybe. But however this ended, I wouldn't stop fighting.

Until none of us were standing…I pushed into the room. Until then, we would fight and cheat and use every single advantage to defeat Corvus and his sister.

Only when the last of us fell would this be over.

I stepped into the darkened room, the heavy drapes pulled tight against the sun, and déjà vu rocked me to my core. How many times had I come in here and flung those very draperies wide open to serve the duke and duchess their breakfast? How many times had I slunk out of here humiliated?

They're dead. They can't hurt you anymore.

Zor didn't stir, lying on his side, his back to the door.

The air was dripping with moisture, too humid to be natural, and unease twisted through me, fear thrumming deep in my chest. Zor's spine looked…unnatural. I squinted against the gloom, wishing I'd brought a candle with me.

I held my breath as I drifted closer, hands gripping the ends of my too long shirt sleeves, focused wholly on that odd shape of his muscular back, that strange bulge I couldn't see clearly. Had Raziel's healing failed?

I didn't smell rot, but that didn't mean Raz hadn't missed something.

Didn't mean Corvus wasn't here.

Because there was such a strange sense of otherness in this room right now, I could hardly even breathe. Something was very wrong. With Zor. With the darkness. With this wet, heavy air that smelled of…thunderstorms and lightning.

Or freshly spent magic.

"Zor?" I reached out, running my hand down his muscled arm, his skin damp to the touch, sweat beaded up all over him. "Zorander, you need to wake up."

He groaned. Not in pain, but that rough, sleepy grumble of someone pulled out of a deep sleep. Good, he's not hurting, so that's something.

"Zorander Vayle," I said, sharper this time. "Wake up. There's something wrong."

Because this close, I could see it wasn't his spine that was twisted but the flesh of his back, forming two large bulging growths above his shoulder blades, like the bone was about to burst through the skin.

"'Naria, is that you?" he mumbled. "Had such strange dreams. I was flying, and you were flying beside me. We were in the mountains, and the moon was so beautiful."

"Zor, does anything hurt?" I reached out, hesitated, then touched one of the bumps. Hard and bony, his tan skin stretched so taut over the protrusion I could see there wasn't one bump, but a cluster of them. "Does this hurt when I touch it?"

His skin was hot, hotter than it should have been, like he was burning up from the inside, which would explain the damp sheets, the sweat pouring off him. All this darkness was leaching from him.

Magic, seeping from his pores.

Raziel was going to absolutely kill me for not calling him straightaway, but gods, I wasn't about to leave Zor alone for a minute, not like this. "No, that itches." He groaned again, rubbing against my hand with a guttural moan. "Scratch hard, will you? Right there. Yes. That feels better. Raz's healing always itches like mad."

"This isn't…" I flattened my hand, something hard shifting against my palm beneath his clammy skin. I sent out a mental plea to Tavion, to Raz, to anyone who might hear me.

Come up to the bedroom. Now. We have a problem.

"I need you to think, Zor. Did something bite you before we found you, after the wall fell? Or when you crashed into the forest? Were you injured in any way?"

The darkness in the room was choking, saturated with his spicy clove scent, the nipping ozone bite of spent magic, and all this fucking humidity.

"Nothing bit me, and I'm not injured. Raz healed me, remember?" His eyes were hazy, dreamy almost. "Why do you look so worried? I feel good, 'Naria. I'm just tired. So tired I could sleep for a week. Two weeks." His eyes slid closed, a languid smile curling the corners of his lips.

"No, no, Zor, stay with me. Stay awake."

Downstairs, footsteps clattered across the marble floor, thundered up the carpeted steps, then raced down the hall. Tavion burst through the door first, weapon in hand, scanning the room for threats.

"Put the knife away. Not that sort of a problem," I warned him sternly as Raziel and Tristan arrived, scanning the room as thoroughly as Tavion had.

"This is more of a medical sort of emergency." I shifted so they could see Zorander's back, and Tavion's eyes widened. No doubt, with his enhanced sight, he could see in this gloom, but the rest of us couldn't. I went to the windows and opened the drapes, light flooding the room in time for Bexley to step inside.

But even that sunlight was dimmed, filtered through the shifting shadows of Zorander's magic choking the room. Water droplets raced down the window and every exhale was a foggy cloud in front of our mouths.

"Gods, that's bright." Zor held his hand over his eyes, the smile sliding off his face. "Is that really necessary, Anaria? You ruined a perfectly good?—"

"Shut up and let Raz look at your back," Tavion muttered. "Why the fuck didn't you say something last night, you fool?" He scented the air, his nose wrinkling as he detected the same mix of magic and otherworldly power as I had.

Zor's brow furrowed as he finally seemed to grasp we were all staring down at him with a mixture of fear and horror. "Say anything about what, exactly?" he asked slowly.

"Sit up," Raz ordered, his hands already coated with healing magic. "Wrap the sheets around you, for fuck's sake. I have no desire to see you buck naked this morning."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered, earning me a saucy smile from Zor that I returned, feeling slightly ill. But as frightened as I was right now, there was no denying Zorander Vayle was a fucking work of art, carved by the gods themselves out of flesh and muscle, the perfect balance of power and lithe strength.

Perfect, except for those things sticking out of his shoulders.

"Stay still," Raz scolded as he poked at one of the bumps.

"What is your problem? Your healing always itches like a motherfucker," Zor grumbled, reaching around to scratch…then freezing. "What the fuck is that?"

"That's what we need to figure out. I spotted them yesterday, but they were small enough I thought they were a reaction to the blight, or scar tissue from your previous burns. These are the size of an egg."

"An apple," Tavion corrected, leaning closer. "Like you've got two fucking apples attached to your shoulders."

Zor tried to turn his head to see. "What the fuck are they, Raz? They itch like the fucking blazes, all the way to my bones. Like deep. Really deep."

"Hold still. I'm looking," Rax growled, his magic coating Zor's back with a blue glow. "I'm not detecting any foreign substance. I don't think this is related to the blight. Or Corvus." Our gazes met and I should have been relieved, but what I saw in his eyes—besides complete confusion—was worry.

"Who healed you before you came here? Cosimo or one of the healers at the Keep?"

"The Keep's healers. Coz was too burned to help anyone, least of all me. But I felt fine the next day. Still healing when I left Blackcastle, but no worse than usual." He winced when he met my narrowed gaze. "Okay, I wasn't done healing at all and knew better than to try and ghost out of there, but I wasn't about to let the Oracle get her hands on the pendant."

"Could this be from that? Flying when he hadn't healed all the way?"

"Worrywart," Zor grumbled.

"Reckless idiot," I muttered.

"No." Raz tipped his head, studying the bumps. "Using magic to move would have aggravated the original injuries, causing bleeding and possibly internal injuries. Not this."

He poked at one of the bumps and Zor grit his teeth. "Stop it. That makes the itching worse."

"Where were you when the wall fell?" Tristan asked slowly. "How close?" Zor bent forward, and the minute he did, those things poked out like spears, drawing his tan skin so tight I wondered if they'd shred straight through.

"Just beyond the forest. There was nothing between us and the magic except a stone wall. Half of which ended up on me when it collapsed." He touched his forehead where a faint pink line still showed. "Courtesy of one of the rocks. I pinned Finnian and Kael beneath me. They don't have magic," he explained wryly. "I figured I'd weather the storm better than either of them. Besides…"

He straightened, tucking the sheets around his hips, and winked. "Since I'd survived the fall of the first wall, I figured the second one would be a piece of cake."

"What are you thinking, Tristan?" I asked softly as his hand curled around my arm, his eyes never leaving Zor's back. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Nothing that's remotely possible."