03 - Sworn (73 page)

“He might become burned out completely in time,” I suggested, and was surprised at the flat, hollow tone of my voice. I didn’t sound right. “It can happen.”

Ulric turned to me, understanding written across the lines of his face.

“What?” Aren looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I think mine is gone,” I said. I choked back a sob. “Small price to pay, right?”

Aren blinked, as though waking from a trance. He stepped closer. “You said this wouldn’t happen.”

I tried to smile, and failed. “I’ll be fine. Just different, I guess. A bit like I was before we met, but—”

Behind Aren, Severn sidestepped toward his sword.

“Aren, watch out!”

Nox gasped and sat up straight. She pushed herself to her feet and launched herself at Severn as Ulric reached for her and missed.

The next few seconds unfolded slowly, as though reality had drawn itself out to a dream pace.

Nox raced at Severn, stumbling, dripping crimson onto the floor as her wound opened. Aren spun, but instead of raising his sword, he reached for Nox. Severn crossed in front of the window and had almost reached his weapon when Nox hit him hard with her shoulder, sending him stumbling.

I screamed as they teetered and tipped out the window.

Aren grabbed the back of Nox’s dress and hauled her back, and she fought against him as he drew her farther into the room.

Severn grabbed onto the window frame with both hands. Blood dripped from his hands where broken glass punctured his skin, but he held on, leaning back, one foot braced against the lower part of the window, the other hanging behind.

“Let me go!” Nox screamed. Aren held her tight around her waist, hand pressed against her side. She kicked back at him. “We haven’t won yet!”

Ulric came to a halt in front of the window, where Severn remained still as a statue save for the violent tremble in his arms.

“Aren, are you holding him there?”

“I am.”

“Release him.”

Severn laughed. “Still looking for a fair fight, father? Gods, you’re pathetic. This country deserves better, deserves a king who will—”

I didn’t feel the magic moving through the air, but the room shook as it had when the pipes burst. The stone around the window casing cracked and crumbled beneath Ulric’s power. My heart leapt into my throat as I caught a glimpse of Severn’s eyes widening, and then he was gone.

Ulric turned back to us and rested his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. When he looked up, he seemed to have aged again, but his eyes burned with life.

“There,” he said. “Fairly finished.”

“And by magic,” Aren added. “No one can question who the crown belongs to. He challenged you in the woods, and you accepted.”

Nox slumped forward, and he laid her on the floor. “Finished,” she echoed. “Aren, is Kel gone?”

“Completely.”

She took a shuddering breath, and coughed. A fine spray of blood settled on her lips. “At least there’s that.” Her eyes closed.

“I can help,” Sara said. “Please.”

Aren looked at her. She stiffened as he intruded on her mind, but didn’t back away. “Take her,” he said as the scar-faced guard entered the room and looked at the mess.

“About time,” Ulric grunted. He pushed himself to stand straight. “Greely, take Nox to the infirmary, then find Xaven’s daughter Morea to help.” He turned to Sara. “Save her.”

The guard collected Nox gently in his arms and followed Sara out.

Ulric paused at the door. “I’m sorry, Rowan,” he said. “But I thank you.” He left us, intent on keeping an eye on his wounded daughter.

I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face in my arms as sorrow overtook me. We’d all lost so much, and others had paid a greater price for our victory. I willed the tears to stop, but no sense of peace followed. All I felt was empty and numb.

Aren sank to the floor beside me and put his arms around my shoulders. I leaned into him and breathed in the damp, smoky scent of his clothes. There was little comfort there, but resting was good.

“Aren’t you going after Nox?” I asked.

“No. Ulric will keep an eye on Sara, but I don’t think she’ll try anything. She’s probably as much a victim in this as anyone. There’s nothing I can do there, anyway. Besides, I’d rather be with you.”

He didn’t ask whether I was all right, a fact which I appreciated. I was not, and doubted I ever would be.

“Can you take mine?” he asked. He lifted my chin and kissed me. Though it was deep and passionate and almost woke something in me, I felt nothing of his magic. No darkness, no cold, no power that would fill me and lift me and make me whole again.

“We’ll find a way to fix this,” he said, and tried to brush my hair back. His fingers tangled in the bright red strands that mocked me with the reminder of what I no longer was.

He got to his feet and lifted me, then placed me on the soaked bed. I curled up in his arms and listened to the water that continued to drip from the magic-shattered pipes overhead.

49

NOX

W
arm. Floating. Cradled. I drifted in a golden haze, and felt no pain.

I’d have stayed there forever if I could. I sensed there was loss elsewhere, and pain. Unfinished business that could never be completed, because the other half of something was missing and could never be returned.

No,
I decided.
Better to drift.

Pain caught up with me. Not heartbreak, but a deep ache in my side. Irritating at first, but it expanded until I couldn’t help letting out a groan. Someone smoothed my hair back from my forehead. Cool hands. Small. Not the ones I wanted.

I squeezed my eyes closed tighter, and warm tears rolled down my temples.

“Oh, no.” Rowan’s voice, soft and soothing. “Don’t cry, please. Nox, you’re alive.”

As if that were good news.

I opened my eyes. Rowan leaned over me, bright red hair plaited and pulled forward over one shoulder, filling my vision.

She leaned back, and I looked around the room. Sunlight streamed in the windows, and gauzy, white curtains billowed in a soft breeze. All was quiet, but familiar faces filled the room. Aren sat beside the bed, though he slept with his chin resting against his chest. Ulric stood in the corner, looking anxious as a father awaiting the birth of a child. I supposed that wasn’t too far off, though I wondered whether his expression had more to do with concern for a daughter or for the Potioner he might still need to save him.

Morea stood nearby, an array of potions and clean dressings handy. “Welcome back,” she said.

I shifted my weight and winced. “Thank you. You stitched me up?”

She nodded. “Sara helped. She’s quite incredible with healing.”

“Where is she?”

“Locked up, awaiting trial,” Ulric said. “Her help in this matter will not likely factor into things, but the question of Severn’s influence will, if we ever discover the truth of that. You shouldn’t worry about her for now, but we may have questions later.”

I thought back to the experiments outlined in Sara’s books, the ingredients on her shelves, and the excitement in her voice when she explained her theories. I doubted she could blame Severn for all of that, no matter what subtle magical skills he had used to keep her under his power.

Deep and heavy pain surged through my body again, radiating from the wound under my ribs. Anything else—my burned legs, my bruised face—seemed inconsequential next to it, but they would certainly make themselves heard soon.

“Morea, might you have something a little stronger for the pain?” I asked.

She nodded and hurried out.

I sighed and leaned back on the pillows that Rowan arranged behind me. I nodded toward Aren, and Rowan smiled. “He’s been awake for two days,” she said. “When he’s not helping get things in order and hunting down traitors, he’s here waiting for you. Seems a shame to wake him now that he’s finally getting some rest.”

His dark eyes snapped open. “This is worth waking for.” He leaned over the bed and hugged me gently, careful to avoid touching my injuries. “Well done, sister.”

“You should rest,” Rowan said. “Both of you.” She turned to Ulric. “All of you.”

“Forget about that,” I said. “I’m awake now. Tell me what’s happened.”

It didn’t take long. Ulric had defeated Severn. It hadn’t played out exactly by the rules of a challenge to a ruler, but that paled in comparison to the lies and schemes that surrounded Severn’s rise to power. It was all coming to light now as people’s loyalties shifted back to Ulric, as they insisted that they’d had no intention of betraying him, that they’d thought he was dead.

It sounded like Aren had a large part to play in digging the truth out from among the self-serving lies. Whether he was happy about using his skills that way, I couldn’t tell.

“And your magic?” I asked Ulric. “Has Morea been helping with that?”

He looked like she had. The once and current king wore clean, evergreen-colored garments, and looked to be in better physical condition than I’d seen him in since we’d met. Handsome, strong, appearing hardly even middle-aged.

He nodded. “I’m not at full strength yet, not pushing it too much, but she’s helping. She was quite impressed with the supply cupboards here.” He lowered his voice. “No one thus far has figured out that I might not be as powerful as I once was, but hearing that you were successful in your self-appointed mission here would be most welcome news.”

I made myself smile, and pushed my blankets back. “I was. I’ll have you stronger than ever in no time.”

“Not yet,” Ulric said before I could try to sit up. His habitually hard expression softened. “I won’t see my daughter run herself into the grave for my sake. We can keep this quiet until you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank
you
, Nox.” The corners of his eyes creased. “We wouldn’t be here without you. May I say that I’m proud of you?”

I considered that for a moment. “Only if you promise not to have me hanged for disobedience and desertion.”

He smiled. “Fair enough. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Morea.”

After he left, I turned to Rowan. “What about your magic?” I’d nearly forgotten about her sacrifice, but as the pain cleared the wool from my mind, it all came back.

She looked at her feet. “It’s as good as gone. I’ve been taking what Morea’s made up for me, but it’s... I don’t feel much. A little, sometimes, or a feeling like it
should
be there. But it’s not growing. Maybe I’m imagining it.”

Aren’s brow creased, but he said nothing.

“Let me try to bring it back,” I said. “You have the capacity to channel magic. It was there once. I refuse to believe there’s no way to make it happen again.”

Rowan glanced at Aren, then down at her hands.

“Unless you want something else,” I added, speaking more quietly. “Have the two of you talked about this?”

“Not much,” Rowan said softly. “We’ve been busy. Hardly seen each other, really. He’s been with your father, I’ve been with Ruby and the merfolk.”

“The merfolk?”

She smiled. “They came after they heard about Kel. Saved us, really. They kept six ships of soldiers from reaching land and joining the battle. Ruined the hulls of some fine boats, but…” She trailed off.

My gut clenched at the sound of Kel’s name.

“You really think you can help her?” Aren asked.

I shook off thoughts of Kel and the merfolk. There would be time for that later. “Maybe. Can you feel her magic at all right now?”

“Not from here.”

I bit back an exasperated sigh. “Kiss her, you dummy.” I closed my eyes as Rowan stood and her weight lifted from the bed.

A long moment later, he said, “It’s there, but it’s weak. Smaller even than it was when she woke up on Belleisle. Emalda brought it back then, though, and you’re as good as she is. Better, even.”

I opened my eyes and studied Rowan. Hope mixed with uncertainty on her face. “Probably. Let me get back on my feet, get myself fixed up, take care of Ulric. Then we’ll see.”

Aren frowned. “Can it wait that long?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Griselda might, though. Have you spoken to her?”

“She’s returned to Belleisle with the others,” Rowan said. “And so has Ernis Albion, and the others.”

“He was here?”

Rowan smiled. “You missed a lot when you took off. No one had much advice to offer before they went. Seems like everyone appreciates what I did, but they think I’m done this time.”

“Everyone but me, then,” I said. “Let me try. If it’s stable for now, we should have time.”

Rowan met my eyes, and she was obviously considering her options. If we left things as they stood, there should be no reason for her and Aren to not be together, even if their future would be complicated. If I succeeded, she would take back the magic that had obviously ripped a hole in her spirit when it left her, but she would lose him.

I didn’t envy her the decision, but I would make sure it was hers to make.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’ll get everyone fixed up. Nothing else to do, right?” I tried to keep the pain out of my voice, but failed miserably.

“Nox, I’m sorry,” Aren said. “Do you want to talk about it? About him?”

I made myself smile to reassure him. He didn’t look ready to have that conversation, but I appreciated his willingness to suggest it. “I’m fine,” I said. “I just need rest, that’s all. And some time.”

He didn’t look like he believed me, but he stood and followed Rowan to the door.

I motioned for her to come back, and she nodded to Aren to tell him to go on without her.

“Would a week give you time to decide?” I asked.

Her shoulders slumped, and I saw how much of her calm and pleasant demeanor was a show for the others. Something in her had shattered. “Do you think less of me for needing time to think about it?” When I didn’t answer, she twisted the ends of her braided hair between her fingers and continued. “I’ve been trying to see the good in this for the past few days, trying to adjust to the idea. I mean, I could be with Aren. Ulric has been kinder to me and has let me help with so many things that he wouldn’t have trusted me with a week ago. In a sense I have what I’ve wanted, but…”