Aviva
“I have her.”
Ryan and I turn to look at Sarah. We’ve been avoiding looking at her because, quite frankly, she looks terrifying right now. Her eyes are glowing and totally, completely violet. Her hair floats around her head as she stands with her hands on either side of what Ryan called a “bird bath.”
It’s not a bird bath. It’s some weird bowl that an even stranger, tiny man brought here all the way from Veiled Valley. Apparently, Arthur, the royal historian, has a collection of useful objects in his treasure trove in Veiled Valley’s library, and a scrying bowl hadn’t been hard at all to acquire.
Still, Sarah has been bent over this bowl for almost a week, whether it’s snowing, blowing, or sunny and absolutely frigid.
The tip of her nose is bright red as her glowing eyes widen and her mouth pulls into a smile. “I have her. Guys, I found her!”
Several people rush toward her, but Ryan and I hang back. All around us, a city of tents clogs the Silverhide valley with hundreds of warriors milling about, huddled around fires. I watch Ryatt move toward Sarah, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes set on her face as her powers whirl around her, casting her in a pale violet glow that reflects off the snow.
Neither of us speak. We wait, breathless, and watch Sarah’s powers dim.
She gasps as her powers hit their limit, cut off like someone blowing out a candle.
“Where?” Ryatt asks, tapping his fingers on his upper arm.
“She’s on the move,” Sarah pants, bending with her hands braced on her knees to catch her breath. “I need to drop back in–I didn’t get a look look–”
“You need a break,” Ryatt cuts in, shaking his head as he chews his lower lip. He’s grown so impatient over the last week–dropping in on Silverhide every other day to check on Sarah, to try to gauge if Sarah has picked up on anything yet–anything at all.
A week after the attack, we’ve done nothing more than fill our territory with troops. Thankfully, they brought their own supplies because we just spent the entire summer ensuring we had enough food stowed away for our own pack, not for close to a thousand warriors.
Tent cities like this one are stationed all over the Deadlands at this point. We’re closest to Tarsian here. It’s roughly six-hundred miles south from here to Oasia, compared to what Ryatt said was over a thousand in the Roguelands. Don’t ask me how the math works because I’m just a girl from Endova who got swept into this madness when Ryan gave my father a golden elk pelt.
We’re just waiting on Sarah. Once we know where Misty is, we can reach her, get her to safety, and then Ella and Isaac can do their worst.
My stomach turns at the thought of war, but here we are.
“You need to rest,” Ryan whispers into my hair.
I lean into him, trying to steal his warmth. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been on your feet for hours,” he argues, his hand sliding against my lower back under my coat.
I almost say I’ll be on my feet for a lot longer than that soon if Sarah’s truly found Misty. My eyes dart to Evander, who stands stoically and emotionlessly nearby, his gaze locked on Sarah and Ryatt.
Evander and I are the chosen ones. The fools who will be traveling into Tarsian to rescue the princess.
I close my eyes against a wave of nausea and turn to bury my face in Ryan’s chest. His scent is the only thing that doesn’t make me want to throw up right now.
Ryan exhales deeply, wrapping his arms around me to shield me from the bitter cold wind whipping around us.
“I don’t feel well,” I admit. It’s the first time I’ve voiced it out loud. Ryan knows I’ve been struggling the past few days. I keep telling myself it’s stress and not the baby. The baby our family doesn’t know about yet.
“Let’s go home. Just for a little bit.” His heavy, heartbroken tone speaks volumes.
If they’ve found Misty, I have a few days… maybe even just a few hours until I need to leave for the border.
And I’m sick.
I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this… and I don’t know if Ryan’s going to even let me try at this point.
We don’t have a choice, though.
* * *
*Misty*
I jolt to awareness when I feel a hand tapping lightly on my shoulder. It’s pitch black in Cole’s room–dark, and warm. Stars fill the night sky beyond the window. I straighten, turning to face Georgia, who looks down at me with concern shining behind her eyes. “You okay? You’ve been in here for hours,” she whispers, motioning toward Cole. “Is he dead?”
I blink several times before smoothing my hand over my face. I could have sworn I’d just been standing in Silverhide, listening to Aviva’s… inner thoughts. Is she pregnant? That’s what it sounded like. And what the hell is Sarah up to? She looked scary as hell.
It was a dream. I shake it away, trying to clear my head as I stretch my aching back. I fell asleep sitting in Cole’s chair, slumped over the mattress. My legs tingle as I stand and reach for Georgia. “I don’t think he’s dead.”
“Well, that’s good,” she whispers, reaching to poke him in the ribs just to be sure. I grab her hand.
“Don’t. His back, see?” I point to the scars covering every inch of his skin.
“What is that?” she hisses, her voice just above a whisper.
How do I even begin? “Uhm, he’s cursed, I think. Actually, I know he’s cursed. I healed him as best I could but….” But the scars are already reopening–puffy and an angry red that makes my stomach hurt just to look at them. I gently lay my hand on his back, my powers igniting on impulse. He jerks ever so slightly but stays asleep as my powers knit him back together… again.
But this time… something feels different. An electric current rips up my arm. I yank my arm back in pain.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, examining my tingling fingers. I lay my hand on his back again, igniting my powers, and feel… it. The curse.
“Georgia–” Declan slides through the door and halts when he sees us standing over a still totally asleep Cole–with my glowing hand on his back. “Are you healing him? Is that what you’ve been doing all night?”
“I’m healing him again,” I hiss. “Now shut up. I’m trying to focus!”
If Declan were a good boy, he would have turned and left the room, preferably taking Georgia with him so I could focus, but now both are flanking either side of my body as I lay a second hand on Cole’s back and push my powers forward with all of my strength.
A few of the symbols fade completely. Several reopen and close again. My pale blue light starts to turn an… eerie green.
“Stop,” Declan rushes out, grabbing my arm. “Stop, now!” He shouts the words loud enough that Cole jerks, then groans in pain. “STOP! MISTY, STOP!”
“What?!” I shout, but then I’m being tossed across the room by Declan, my back meeting the wall with a crunch. The air leaves my lungs in a strangled gasp.
But now Declan is the one being thrown... to the ground. Cole is up and out of bed, pressing Declan to the floor by his neck while Georgia screams for him to stop.
I gasp for breath, trying to find enough air to scream at Cole to get off of Declan, but then Cole lifts his face, and his eyes come into view.
Green. That same swirling, sparkling green of the wolf that Richard made me fight a few days ago.
No. No, no, no.
“Cole!” I scream, extending my hand. “Don’t make me do it, you fucking bastard! Cole, you need to fight it! COLE!”
“WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!” Georgia screams over my voice.
“Get–her–out–of–here–” Declan chokes, his eyes nearly popping out of his head because of the pressure Cole’s putting on his neck.
I scream Cole’s name again. He bares his teeth at me. If he shifts, Declan’s dead.
I don’t want to hurt him, but I have to.
I send my light through the room. It rips through Cole in a blast that sends fractals of light bouncing from wall to wall. Cole slams into the window, falling in a heap on the ground just out of view behind the bed.
“Declan!” Georgia drops to her knees and tugs on Declan’s arm while he gasps for breath, a horrible bruise already forming around his throat.
“Get out,” I tell Georgia, my voice sharp as a knife. “Get out of this room, now.”
“I’m not leaving you in here with him!” she shouts, pointing to Cole, who’s wobbling to his feet, trying to pull himself upright using the bed for support. His eyes flicker with that strange, green magic as he spots our group huddled around Declan.
“Declan, get up,” I hiss, nudging him with my foot. I extend my hands toward Cole again, arching a brow in challenge. Cole bares his teeth at me again. He’s an animal right now. Totally, completely lost within himself. Oh, Goddess, What did I do? What exactly did I do to cause this?
Declan scurries to his feet and scoops a still screaming Georgia into his arms and flees. He doesn’t bother to shut the door. Why would he? He’s running for his life right now while I deal with hisAlpha.
“Are you going to bite me?” I taunt, nothing but the bed separating me from Cole. “Shift, then. Do it like a wolf, you cursed beast!”
The green magic flickers again. How do I fix this? I obviously did something to him with my healing powers. I found the curse, wherever it is, and caused it to ignite. I was able to heal that wolf, wasn’t I? Didn’t Cole see the way the power dimmed in its eyes while my healing powers went to work?
A realization dawns on me the moment Cole lunges, still in his human form but on the cusp of shifting.
I hadn’t used my healing powers on that wolf.
I’d used something else.
Dad can unlock anything–break into anything–whether it be a lock, or a mind.
I have a single second to dig deep and beg for those untrained powers to show themselves before Cole throws his entire body against me, and we slam into the wall together.
I muffle a curse but keep my hands on him as he drags me to the ground. He’s blind with… rage. Animalistic rage that reminds me of the stories that Ryan and Aviva told me about the battle this summer.
This isn’t just a curse. Cole is being turned into a rogue. This curse is eating away at him slowly, picking him apart, and he’s been fighting it for… Goddess knows how long. But I found its source, I think. Somewhere, deep inside, beneath the scars….
“Look at me,” I say in a strained voice, clutching either side of his face. “Look at me, Cole. I’m here. It’s me.”
We’re nose to nose. He’s not fighting me, not really. He’s fighting against whatever’s trying to take over inside–those powers I weakened by healing his back. I can tell he’s still here, trying not to hurt me, trying to regain his body, but the curse is stronger. It’s desperate to hang on, like it's aware, which is really fucking terrifying to think about.
‘Look at me. I’m here,’ I say to Cole, to the voice in my head that shouldn’t be there, unless he’s… unless he’s more than just some random guy I’m stuck in this shitty situation with. I’ll ask him about that later, when I cure him. ‘I’m here.’
My hands glow a pale silver. The green power in his eyes dims until it flickers out completely.
Just like the wolf from the duel, he sighs, trembling as he slumps into a dead kind of sleep.
My heart shatters. Tears spill down my cheeks as I sob uncontrollably.
“M-Misty?” Georgia shrieks, running back toward the room. She and Declan slide to a stop in the doorway. I turn to look at them, stuck beneath Cole, whose entire weight is pressing me to the floorboards.
“Declan, how do we get out of this fucking castle?” I cry out.