by Everly Frost
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie.”
Esther clears her throat behind us. “Nathaniel needs to keep moving, but I’ll help you carry the food to the hall,” she says to Maggie.
“Thank you, dear.” Maggie hands Esther one of the baskets, but she pauses another moment, her soft gaze passing across the mark on my face. “Ah, Nathaniel. That is the perfect variation of your name for your wife.” Her eyes suddenly glisten. “Your father would be proud of you.”
He squeezes her shoulder. “Thank you, Maggie.”
She clears her throat, blinking rapidly as she becomes business-like. “I’d better get going before a rebellion breaks out over a shortage of bread.”
She strides past us along the path but stumbles suddenly, reaching out to steady herself and knocking into the nearest fence post.
“Mom!” Jacob shouts, running to her side, nearly spilling bread rolls onto the path for a second time.
She quickly waves him off. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s nothing. Too much time in the warm kitchen. Not enough fresh air.”
Nathaniel catches my eye before he darts to her side. He takes her arm in his firm grip, urging her to look up at him. “Maggie?”
She bites her lip again, blinking rapidly and swallowing visibly before she says to Esther, “Esther, take my baby to the food hall, please?”
Esther gives her a rapid nod before she picks up the other basket and ushers Jacob away along the path.
Maggie swallows again as she waits for Jacob to disappear.
Nathaniel holds on to her arm and now it looks like she’s leaning on him.
“It’s the Rot,” she whispers, her brown eyes turned up to Nathaniel’s. “It’s come for me early. A whole five years early. My baby boy isn’t even six years old.” Her hand shakes as she raises it to her eyes. “Oh, dear mother moon.”
Nathaniel gathers her up into his arms as she starts to cry. His need to keep moving has been swamped by his shock and concern for Maggie. She turns her face into his chest and his chin slowly drops to the top of her head, dark shadows descending across his expression. “This shouldn’t be happening so soon. How bad is it?”
“My legs are twisting,” she says, drawing shaky breaths, still cushioned in his arms. “My arms are still functioning, but my speech sometimes comes and goes, which means it’s already in my brain.”
I meet Nathaniel’s eyes over Maggie’s head. I sense his thoughts like a storm growing around us.
I can heal her.
But I can’t reveal my power.
All I can think about are the hatched bars of the cuts on his shoulders. Every person he’s lost sits as a constant reminder across his skin. This woman—in fact, every single person in Null—is someone he cares about.
We need to go find the scouts and his sister, but my time here is limited. By the time we get back, we may need to move very quickly to attack the castle. I’ll never forgive myself if I walk away from Maggie now.
“Maggie?” I carefully touch her arm, noting the clammy sweat on her forehead and the pasty color of her cheeks. “I can help you if you’ll let me.”
Nathaniel is suddenly tense. He gives me a firm, worried shake of his head and I easily read his thoughts. It’s too dangerous.
I return his concern with what I hope is a determined expression that conveys my thoughts: I can’t stand by while someone you care about dies a slow and horrible death.
Maggie catches my hand. “Dearest, I wish you could help, but there’s no cure for the Rot. All I can do is prepare myself and make sure Jacob will be okay.”
“I can heal you,” I say, my declaration more certain than I feel. I don’t have the powers of a fae healer—I can’t mend broken bones or heal cuts or burns—but I’ve healed fae children who were sick with an illness that appeared to be the Rot. I’ve never tried to heal a human infected by it, let alone an adult, and for all I know the children I healed in Bright might have been infected with an entirely different illness.
Maggie’s eyes slowly widen as she stares at me. “How?”
Nathaniel begins to speak—to deny what I said—but I plow on, a story slipping from my lips as easily as truth.
“Luciana was looking for a cure. She found a very old form of dark magic that might work.” I hold up my hands so Maggie can see my palms. “She passed it on to me, placing the power in my hands. If you’re willing, I’ll need… uh… a well-lit room, a warm fire, and no distractions. Nathaniel can be there, but nobody else.”
Maggie looks up at Nathaniel. “Is this really possible?”
His worry is carefully hidden. He gives Maggie a resigned smile. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but my wife is constantly surprising me.”
Maggie takes glances between us, suddenly flustered. “I’m supposed to take more food to the hall—”
“We should act now,” I say firmly. “Before the Rot gets worse.”
I meet Nathaniel’s eyes again. Another silent conversation occurs between us. The worried crease across his forehead hasn’t eased, but I press my lips into a determined line: I have to do this. Before we run out of time. There might not be a tomorrow.
The darkness in his eyes lifts.
“No distractions means the horde can wait for their bread.” He whisks Maggie up into his arms. “My hut is the best place. Luciana Elect won’t be interrupted there.”
Relief floods Maggie’s face as soon as Nathaniel takes the weight off her legs. She isn’t old—many fae I know are much older—but at thirty-five years old in a society where nobody lives beyond forty years of age, her demeanor is that of a mother hen—even if she isn’t my mother. She’s done well to hide the Rot’s effects for so long.
Nathaniel strides ahead of me up the stairs and across the porch to enter his home again.
“Fireplace please,” I say to him as he sets Maggie down on one of the dining chairs. “And as many candles or lamps that you have to warm the space and counter the dark magic.”
I don’t need the warmth. What I need is for my bright starlight to be less distinct. Dark magic produces clearly dark light—like the light Mathilda used to try to see into my heart and the inky substance Nathaniel used to fight the Border Guards yesterday. The more light there is around us, the less likely Maggie will be able to see the brightness of the light my power produces.
I catch her hands in mine, kneeling in front of her. Nathaniel told his people a story about his mother training a new generation of warriors so that myth could become reality. Now I need to create a new story that will explain to Maggie how my hands can heal her—as well as explaining the color of my power if she sees it. Something that is just believable enough if she repeats it.
“This process of healing requires a careful balance between light and dark,” I say. “The dark magic you see in my hands draws its power from the moon, so it will appear as white light, but make no mistake, it is powered by the dark. After all, the moon’s light is brightest at night.”
She gives me a nod, but her hands are shaking and this time, it feels like nerves. “I’ve never… Dark magic…?” She glances at Nathaniel for reassurance.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “You’re safe here. Luciana Elect will never hurt you.”
I run my hand over her forehead. The children I healed all had fevers. Maggie isn’t burning up like they were, but her skin is damp. None of the humans have rosy cheeks, but Maggie is particularly ashen. A close look at her lips reveals a delicate rim of purple around their edges, the same as the girl I healed yesterday. I press the heel of my palm to her heart. It’s definitely beating faster than it should be.
“I need to see your legs,” I say. “May I?”
She raises her skirt carefully to her knees, but she glances away, as if she can’t stand to look. Her feet have started twisting in the wrong directions, her calves thinning out and bony. Dark bruises, the color of purple grapes, stretch from above her knees to halfway down her shins. The bruises also surround her ankles
when she removes her boots for me.
Nathaniel quickly finishes lighting the fire, setting up candles along the table beside us. As soon as he sees her legs, he drops to her side. “Maggie, why didn’t you tell me?”
She presses her lips together. “I didn’t want anyone to know. When my time came, before I couldn’t walk anymore, I was going to leave a note and take my final walk through the Misty Gallows.”
His hand tightens on her shoulder. With a final squeeze, he leaves her side and gives us space.
Taking a deep breath, I refocus on Maggie, knowing I need to act quickly now. Ever since daybreak, my power has become finite. I have a reservoir and I’ve used up a lot of it already. Recklessly, in hindsight. My anger at Nathaniel—the conflict between us—caused me to strike out. Not to mention, the impact of sharing my body with him… I fight the blush spreading across my cheeks. Maggie is sitting with her back to his bedroom, but the sheets are still tangled, a tousled reminder of how I spent the last few hours.
“I need you to close your eyes for me now, Maggie,” I say. “No matter what happens, don’t open them. If you can, try to fall asleep. The more peaceful you are, the more likely this will work.”
I wait for her to close her eyes, and then I do the same, seeking the light inside of me. Nathaniel said my power has facets and each time I use it, I harness it in a different way. When I’m angry, it surges from my heart. When I need calm, it softens in my mind. To use it to heal, I have to seek it from the cold expanse that lingers inside both my mind and my heart. I have to empty myself of all thoughts and emotions and reach beyond it, as if I’m touching the night sky.
Pulling the power down to my chest, I allow it to flow into my hand.
Maggie inhales sharply when I press my palm to her heart, but a quick check tells me she didn’t open her eyes.
“Easy,” I whisper, the same way Nathaniel calmed me when I was confronted by the mold moth.
I force myself not to fight the drawing sensation as her body soaks up my power. She is like thirsty, dry earth and my power is water. I will have to keep giving and giving until her pain eases. Lowering my free hand to her knee, I sense her limb relax, the tension in it releasing.
She sighs, a gentle exhale, as I run my hand all the way to her ankle and then repeat the motion with her other leg, my power flowing into her body. It is strangely cathartic that my power—which stems from a cold expanse—can fill a void inside this woman’s body. There is so much empty in her, so much that has been sucked out, as if her soul is the only thing keeping her alive.
Just as I sense her entire body relax and I prepare to withdraw, a sharp twinge in my chest makes me flinch. I freeze, trying to sense the source of the pain.
My hand moves across her heart, a frown settling onto my forehead. A spot of darkness lingers inside her chest, a tiny pebble like a malignant seed planted inside her heart.
My lips part in surprise. That’s where the Rot started, I’m sure of it. If I don’t destroy it, she’ll get sick again.
If it were the middle of the night, I wouldn’t hesitate, but destroying a seed of dark magic is going to take most of my remaining power.
I tell myself it will be okay. Nathaniel doesn’t need me to fight for him until tonight. Until then, I can’t reveal my power anyway. And by then, my power will be replenished.
Taking a deep breath, I concentrate my light on Maggie’s heart, warmth growing beneath my palm. I need to be careful not to hurt her as I press harder and release my power with a sharp zap—
To my surprise, her only reaction is a deep inhale. It sounds like the first clear breath she’s ever taken, deep and extended.
Her eyes slowly open, a look of amazement in them. “Mother moon,” she whispers.
I press my palm to her heart, my power vanishing. It’s all gone now. I’ve got nothing left.
“Easy,” I say to her. “You need to rest now.” The children I healed had to sleep for hours to recover.
A quick knock sounds at the door and Nathaniel opens it to reveal Esther. “Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Everything’s fine. Maggie just needs rest. Can you make sure she takes it easy for the rest of the day, please, Esther.”
“Of course.” Esther bustles into the room and wraps her arms around Maggie, helping her stand.
“Luciana Elect and I will head out now. Remember what I told you,” Nathaniel says to Esther.
She gives him a determined nod.
Maggie’s gaze remains on me as Esther leads her away.
The door closes behind them.
A combination of worry and anger floods Nathaniel’s face as his big hands close over my shoulders. “That was dangerous, Aura. For so many reasons. I want to rage at you and thank you at the same time.” His gaze softens. “You saved her life.”
“Now we know that I can heal them,” I say. “But I discovered something too. The Rot was a seed planted inside her heart, Nathaniel. I think it was put there. Could Cyrian be responsible?”
Nathaniel’s grip tightens in alarm. “It could be some sort of portal into our lifeblood. A way to access our life’s energy and drain it slowly over time,” he murmurs. “But if that’s the case, then… everyone could already be sick. He’s already draining us. We only see the effects as we age.”
I press my hand against his heart, but he covers my fingers with his. “Don’t try to see inside my heart, Aura. You’ve already used up most of your energy. I watched your power drain out of you while you helped her.”
“But I need to know,” I whisper, closing my eyes and dropping myself into the empty space inside my mind before he can stop me. The cold stream flows through my arm and into my hand, warming under my palm.
I gasp and lurch backward. Looking into Nathaniel’s heart is like staring into the sun, a bright flare that shoots warmth up my arm and into my mind. There is no take on his part. Only give. His energy is blazing and brilliant and… could easily destroy me if I bask in it too long.
My eyes fly wide. “You’re not infected. Not even close.”
He drops a kiss to my forehead. His touch is reserved and constrained, as if he’s trying very hard not to kiss me like he did in our bed. “Aura, you haven’t slept and now you’ve used up your power. All of that is my fault—”
“Not entirely yours.” My expression eases into a sultry smile as I push away from the table. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He rises to his full height. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you need help.”
“I will if you will.”
He gives me perplexed smile. “Stubborn wife.”
I arch an eyebrow at him and stride toward his closet. “Weapons,” I say firmly.
It’s time to go back out into the wilderness, but this time, I intend to lead the way.
Chapter 14
The Bitter Patch is quiet around us as we finally exit into the fields beyond. We stay low, traveling another half an hour before we reach a vast stretch of woods. Nathaniel tracks the scouts’ movements through the fields. His scouts must be skilled at what they do, because they barely leave a broken stem in their wake, but Nathaniel knows their usual path.
His sister is also a stealthy traveler. I pick up her path only once intertwining with that of the scouts in the middle of the field, as if they met for some reason. Her footsteps were lighter and her footprints smaller. After that, her path disappears again until all three paths suddenly converge right at the entrance to the woods.
“Here.” Nathaniel points to the faint tread in the damp ground at the edge of the trees.
I cast around carefully, spying the broken stems of wheat a little farther back in the field on our right. “Nathaniel. Look. She broke her careful path there.”
He frowns. “She wouldn’t be so reckless unless something was wrong.” He points from the distant broken wheat all the way to the patch where we stand now, his finger following her trail. “She was running. Toward one of the scouts who was located here.”
I shiver as I step carefully inside the treeline, keeping my footsteps light.
The air inside the woods is as dank as it is in the Misty Gallows.
“There,” I say, pointing at a disturbed patch of mud on the path between the trees. “There was a scuffle.”
The quiet around us increases, the air whispering around me as I scan the creaking trees. It’s nearly impossible for me to expand my senses now that my power is depleted. I vaguely register the crawling creatures beneath my boots but nothing more.
“Aura.” Nathaniel’s voice is a quiet breath behind me as his hand curls slowly around my arm, a warning touch.
I follow his line of sight upward.
My hand flies over my mouth.
Two bodies swing in the shadowy trees high above us.
The ropes creak and groan as they scratch against the branches.
“Hunters.” Nathaniel draws a dagger from his harness.
Before we left his hut, we raided his closet. We both wear harnesses across our chests and backs, each carrying a bow, arrows, and an array of daggers. Swords are harder to run with, so we left those behind. My hair is tied up again, this time into braids. I also carry my liquid daggers as part of my armor, but they’ll be harder to access because of the harness strapped to my body. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing—pulling out my fae weapons would reveal my race.
“Where’s your sister?” I ask, a futile question since there are no answers in front of us.
He shakes his head. “Not in the trees. She’s valuable. They wouldn’t string her up. That’s all I know.”
A sudden, sick feeling swamps me. My senses are dull, but there’s no mistaking the darkness creeping around us. Their presence is like a bottomless pit of darkness and I’m being sucked into it…
Nathaniel draws me slowly backward, step by step, as we back out of the woods onto the clearing at the edge of the field. The Bitter Patch is far behind us—too far to reach in time and Nathaniel would never risk running in that direction in case he gave away the village it conceals.
