by Nicole Adamz
I was nauseated at the thought of eating but sat at the end of the table. A thin, runny gruel with murky looking vegetables was ladled into the bowls. My nose wrinkled in distaste, but no one complained. Is this what they eat?
“Forgive my cooking,” Gilly said to me, “It’s not what you’re used to, but it’s all we have until new rations are dispersed.”
Blushing, I nodded, realizing my disgust was obvious. The pot was placed back over the fire and Gilly and Janson joined the rest of the men. There was a smattering of chatter until Niles walked out of his room. Everyone quieted, staring at him expectantly.
“Do you need anything, sir?” Janson said.
“Small pieces of wood, and another bowl with hot water. A second filled with snow. Several dry cloths and more bandages. She’s burning with fever,” Niles stated grimly.
His voice was a staccato rhythm, the words slowly absorbing into my mind. When the full impact hit me, I jumped up. No, it can’t be. I’m perfectly fine.
“Ari is sick?” I demanded.
Niles paused, giving me a heavy look. “Yes.”
“That’s not possible! I’m perfectly fine! How can she be sick?” I said, helplessness coloring my voice.
“I’m not a Healer, Caelum Maewyn. My guess is that you were better insulated, and don’t have a single mark. I know it’s related to whatever brought the two of you out here, so why don’t you tell me? How can Ari be sick?” Niles ground out.
Each word was measured, waiting for my response, but I refused to go back to those moments. If I didn’t say the words aloud, then maybe it hadn’t happened. For just a little longer I can pretend. I can pretend I didn’t fail, and nothing happened tonight.
“I don’t know,” I said stiffly.
“Why were you both so far away from Ascension?”
“We got lost. Trying to find a group of friends for Annul,” I hedged.
Niles stared at me; disappointment slipped across his face before it carefully went blank. Janson returned with a basket full of items, and Niles quietly slipped inside the room with them. I looked at the other Warders, all steadfastly avoiding my gaze. Do they all know I lied?
My lips thinned, and I walked to the door, knocking. Niles opened it, frowning, but said nothing when he stepped aside. Ari’s raspy breathing filled the air, and I could see beads of sweat sliding down her forehead. A fur blanket had been pulled over her slim body, but the edge was askew as though she had kicked it aside. One foot peaked out, bound in bandages.
My heart squeezed painfully, guilt washing over me in waves. She was pallid and still. My eyes fastened on her hands, and I struggled to breathe. My heart thudded dully against my chest. One hand was bandaged, but the other lay on a dry cloth. A scoop of snow was in its blackened, raw, and curled frame. Nausea roiled in my stomach; Ari’s hand was a twisted claw.
“Oh, Ari,” I said softly, my voice breaking, “I’m so sorry.”
Chapter 29
Ari
IMAGES FADED IN AND OUT, a fuzzy, mocking carousel. A floating face, slit-pupiled eyes, a winking emerald, sheets of white, and a sea of red. It was the sea I struggled against the most. It threatened to drown me. I thrashed, screaming in rage. It was wrong! They were all wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Something is wrong! Someone softly chuckled in the darkness.
A raspy intake of air scratched my ears, yellow flooding my vision before blessed darkness claimed me again. I floated in a vast nothingness, haunted by the stench of dirt. It didn’t look at me, didn’t laugh at me, and didn’t hurt me. It was a blanket I wrapped around myself; blessedly cool against an inescapable burning. The darkness was comforting, and I shifted within it.
A flickering flame wavered in the darkness, battling to survive the gloom. Deep, mottled breaths filled the air, and I writhed painfully until coolness arrived with red blinking eyes and the syrupy smell of oblivion. I stared at the flaming red eyes until the cloying darkness sucked me back.
The sun’s sharp rays pierced my senses and I grimaced, attempting to move away from the harsh light. My tongue, thickly coated with grime, licked parched lips while my gaze wandered around the room.
Tall, marble walls arched overhead, merging into a pointed glass ceiling refracting the sun’s light. One wall was entirely glass, almost invisible against the skyline, and plain, iron beds dressed in stark, white linens marched along the walls in equal formation. There were only a few occupants in the room.
The Sanatorium, I thought weakly. My bed was beside the gleaming glass wall, and the cheery sunshine waved, grinning persistently at me. My lip curled irritably, and I surveyed the open room. Most of the beds were empty. Not an unusual occurrence since Elysian didn’t often get sick. Admittance wasn’t looked on favorably.
A figure wearing a Healer’s dark golden colors glided over. Efficiency surrounded her, enhanced by the thin, gold circlet gracing her brow and holding her intricately braided ebony hair away from her face. Dismayed, I looked at Willow. When her navy eyes met mine a small, distant smile touched her lips.
Willow had strived for the Healers Circlet above everything—even being a sister. She probably sleeps with it on, I thought snidely. Willow was the first female Healer, and I should have been proud. Instead, I resented her. She left me and Zora with father and his drunken rages.
“It’s nice to see you conscious,” Willow said, her voice whisking gently across the air, calm and soothing. And cold.
She leaned forward, filling a cup from the pitcher next to my bed. When Willow lifted it to my mouth, I feebly attempted to grab it. Noticing the bandages, I pushed the cup away and limply dropped my hands. My left hand was lightly wrapped, fingers free to graze the blankets, but my right hand was heavily bound.
Panicked, I glanced at Willow. “You’re lucky you still have it,” she said frankly.
My stomach tightened uneasily. “Niles treated it the best he could. It was sheer luck the snowstorm passed early so the Warders could transport you here.”
Slumping, I stared at the ceiling. Images of how I’d injured my hand—and why—threatened to overwhelm me. Looking at Willow, I raised my brows in the question I couldn’t ask. The question I was scared to ask. How long will it take to heal?
“I can’t answer that. We cut the dead skin and worked a liniment into the wounds, helping the skin grow back supple instead of stiff,” Willow paused and said quietly, “There was a lot of skin burned off.”
I raised horrified eyes to Willow, and her hand hovered over mine, not quite touching. Her gaze briefly filled with sympathy before it faded. “I’ll alert Hazel, the Aide, that you’re conscious and can ingest soft solids,” Willow said briskly.
She checked on the other occupants and disappeared under the archway as an Aide wheeled a metal cart through. Willow paused and spoke briefly with the woman before leaving. The cart squeaked excitedly in my direction, and my stomach clenched hungrily.
Aide Hazel flitted around, adjusting everything before feeding me. I stared at her graying ginger hair, idly listening to her chatter. Aide Hazel had worked at the Sanatorium for eighty-three years. Which means she’ll have a lot of stories I don’t care about hearing, I thought irritably.
She jerked my attention away from the bland food by mentioning Willow. “Healer Willow stayed up all night with that poor girl—like she did with you—after she lost her fledgling.” Aide Hazel said, clucking her tongue.
Willow stayed with me all night?
“You’ve been here for a fortnight. Thought we would lose you, but Healer Willow fought for you.”
I inhaled unsteadily. I’ve been here a fortnight? Aide Hazel swiftly placed my tray on the cart when I slumped against my pillow.
“There’s water here if you need it. You invoked your Abeyance numerous times in your delirium, so your throat is probably sore,” Aide Hazel said kindly.
I nodded, waiting for her to leave. The quiet of the room settled into my bones when she left, and I drifted into sleep. Whispers of ‘Envoy’ trickle
d through my mind. The word haunted me.
Chapter 30
Maewyn
IWATCHED ARI’S PRONE FORM draw thin, raspy breaths. Her amber runes glowed faintly, a silent testimony to her urge to speak. Speak or scream? I thought uneasily.
The thick, purple marks around her neck weren’t swollen anymore. Grabbing a clean cloth, I gently wiped the sweat from her brow. I don’t know what Heir Talon did, but her body tells a perilous story… I quickly pushed the thought away.
When Ari’s nose bled, a frequent occurrence, I cleaned it too. She had managed a prolonged period of consciousness yesterday, so walking in had been hard for me. What will I see in her eyes? Will she hate me?
That thought had been circling in my mind for a fortnight. I sighed, making myself look at Ari’s hands. Her damaged hand had finally stopped oozing blood and puss. Relief swept through me. Thank Aeolus. It was hard not to gag at the sight. I should probably thank Healer Willow too…but I don’t want to.
When the uproar of Ari’s initial arrival had died down, Healer Willow became determined to know the cause of her injuries. She’d drilled me about location, circumstances, and reasons for Ari’s injuries and sickness. I can’t tell anyone what happened. Talon is the Heir. Would they even believe me…or care? It’s unlikely anyone will take Ari’s side. The letters I wrote Davin are damning evidence that we were willing participants. Well, I was.
I’d evaded most of Healer Willow’s questions with firm excuses about my duties as Caelum. Other times I lied, trying to make each lie fit together. Worried, I glanced at Ari’s stony face. Can I convince Ari to go along with them?
I placed my hand gently on Ari’s bandages, feeling her fingers twitch. Startled, I met her fixed stare. How long was she awake? My nervous smile died beneath her steady gaze. Biting my lip, I studied the expression in her bi-colored eyes.
Hate and disappointment were absent, but what I saw disturbed me more: hollowness. Ari’s face was blankly shuttered. I wanted her to know whatever had happened to her hadn’t been my intention, and the entire evening had gone wrong. However, I knew my reasons weren’t acceptable. She tried to warn me and keep us from going.
“I’m sorry,” I said weakly.
Ari’s sharp face tightened. Her eyes remained blank. Almost uncomprehending. Has anyone told her?
“You’ve been here for a fortnight, but don’t worry! I informed Ascension of your situation, and I have an Anomaly helping me with Revues until you’re well,” I said with forced cheer.
Ari nodded, her eyes shifting away. Healer Willow’s voice carried the length of the room, and I shifted uncomfortably. When she reached the bed, I forced a smile when she checked Ari’s bandages.
Guiltily, I looked away until she finished. Ari was lifeless during the entire procedure until Healer Willow tried lifting the blanket tucked around her chest. She resisted, squeezing her arms tightly against her sides. I grinned. Her modesty was a relief. She’s still in there—somewhere. Healer Willow lifted a midnight brow.
“I need to check your wounds,” Healer Willow said perfunctorily.
I frowned at Healer Willow’s high-handedness. “Is there truly a need to expose her in front of other patients?” I challenged.
Healer Willow’s hard, gleaming eyes swung in my direction, a storm brewing in them. Arguing with her usually left me feeling like a fledgling for days afterward. She was coolly logical, and it was hard to debate her intellect. I could gladly spit in her eye every time she spoke. It didn’t matter how I felt about her treatment of Ari—she calmly rattled off a fact and continued working. It was no doubt how she’d broken through the ranks of male Healers.
I’d had more contact with her in a fortnight than I cared to have all year. Avoiding her didn’t make chance meetings any more tolerable. I don’t know what the High Lord sees in her, I thought spitefully. She’s cold and hard. I hate that she’s Ari’s Healer.
“Her actions don’t facilitate her recovery, so don’t pretend you’re doing her a favor. I’m the Healer. Unless you have training that I don’t know about?” Healer Willow said acidly.
Her inflexible gaze bored into me, waiting for me to admit my ignorance. I glared balefully, and she dismissed me imperiously, turning toward Ari. Healer Willow heaved the blanket away from Ari’s chest, exposing her sheer Sanatorium issued gown. Ari blushed while Healer Willow deftly applied an ointment to the four scabbed gashes running across Ari’s collarbone and chest. I hadn’t seen these wounds.
They’re malicious. Like the marks around her neck. I trembled, swallowing hard. Healer Willow checked Ari completely, covered her, and peered intently into her eyes.
“I’ll make my questions simple,” Healer Willow said without preamble, “Did Ward Station Three discover you and Maewyn wandering through a field during Annul?”
Ari tensed, and I grabbed her forearm. I hadn’t been able to prep her on the lies I’d told. I didn’t think Healer Willow would question her so soon. Ari’s fingers curled into loose fists, and my heart contracted.
Let me answer the questions, Ari. Everything will be okay. It must be. Healer Willow speared Ari with her gaze, silently demanding the truth.
“Yes, they did,” I interjected.
Healer Willow raised an ominous brow in my direction. “Did you attend the Annul celebration?” Ari let go of my hand, firmly pulling the blankets to her neck. Healer Willow frowned, waiting. I offered the answer I’d carefully crafted.
“We didn’t attend the Annul celebration in the Main Holding. We met a group of friends and celebrated privately, but when Ari and I left the snow storm had started. Visibility was poor, so we flew in the wrong direction before being forced to walk,” I explained.
“That explains your location, but not Ari’s injuries,” Healer Willow said stridently.
I pretended to think, “I wore velvet slippers that were ruined, so Ari gave me her boots. We didn’t know where we were. Ari gave me her cloak because a Revue was coming up. She didn’t want me to get sick, but instead…she did.”
Remorse, cold and heavy, slipped around my heart. Blast Ari to the skies for her rigid attention to duty and her loyalty. If she’d kept her cloak, she wouldn’t have gotten sick! Frustrated, I refrained from grimacing. She had other injuries though, and I can’t explain those. I smiled benignly at Healer Willow, hoping she didn’t question Ari further.
Healer Willow’s attention focused on Ari, carefully watching her unfocused gaze. Ari had stopped listening, and her breathing was reedy. Pity and anger flashed through Healer Willow’s eyes before she turned to me.
“I suppose the risk of becoming ash was worth one Revue,” Healer Willow said acerbically.
“No, it wasn’t,” I said shamefacedly.
Ari gasped and the runes on her skin flickered. Healer Willow quickly diluted a vial of medicine in water before forcing Ari to drink. I stared at Ari’s useless, damaged hand. What happened? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Healer Willow doubts Ari can play an instrument and told Aide Hazel she’d be lucky to use it again. What if it was me? Horror and a small, selfish relief that it wasn’t me rushed through my heart. Healer Willow signaled to Aide Hazel when Ari continued to rasp quick, panicked breaths. The Aide strode over, ready to assist, but the medicine finally took effect. Ari’s breathing gradually adjusted to the rhythm of sleep. Healer Willow turned toward me.
“Caelum Maewyn, why don’t you bring Ari her own uniform? That will provide her with a sense of normalcy until she’s discharged,” Healer Willow said briskly.
I glanced uncertainly at Ari and nodded, “I’ll bring one tomorrow.”
Healer Willow’s eyes narrowed, “Everything in the Sanatorium is documented and sent to the Temple for the Prelates to chronicle. You have until Ari’s discharge to make sure there aren’t gaps in the report I send.”
When I remained silent her midnight blue eyes scanned my face. Glancing down, I ran my fingers over the edge of Ari’s bed. I didn’t want her to see the t
ruth.
Healer Willow leaned forward, lowering her voice, “Months ago there were comments about the potential of a Tyro with an undeclared Talent, but they’ve finally abated. However, this incident will bring them up again, and she could be presented to the Aerial Council.”
Her words skittered down my spine. “Why would anyone care about Ari’s Talent?”
Healer Willow’s gaze was shuttered. “Because Talent, along with everything else, has its uses. You won’t have long to get your story in order. Am I clear?”
A dozen thoughts whizzed through my mind after Healer Willow left, but one was prominent. She wants me to lie.
Chapter 31
Ari
MY RUNES SLOWLY RECEDED in the morning light filtering through the Sanatorium window. The tension gripping me dissipated when the markings beneath my bandages faded. I wiped a trickle of blood from my nose. The dream-like memory had returned.
My gaze drifted bitterly around the room. It froze on the figure next to my bed. Maewyn, delicate and blooming in pink velvet, was asleep. My heart burned with anger, hurt, and confusion. My emotions were a tangled mess.
Strands of silver hair danced around her face, swinging against her nose at each exhaled breath. My nose twitched. Looking at her, I tried to sort out my feelings. I still wasn’t sure how I felt when Willow walked briskly into the room to check on patients. No, that’s not true, I thought harshly. I feel betrayed. I can’t use my hand because of her choices.
Willow’s voice roused Maewyn. Emerald eyes opened sleepily, blinking in the bright light. Her eyes held an apology when they met mine. Erasing my face of emotion, I looked away. I couldn’t accept her apology after what had happened. Silence, weighty with unspoken words, stretched between us. My jaw clenched angrily.
