A soft blanket covered my body, and I was already too hot beneath it. My boots and armor had been removed and carefully laid across a small table against the wall. My weapons were there, too. Even Asherah’s chest plate.
And next to it all, sitting by itself, was the black leather scabbard Rhyan had gotten me. The one with my stave in it. Asherah’s stave. My nostrils flared. That scabbard! That scabbard had been a gift!
I pushed back the blankets, and rushed to the small table, retrieving it. Then, sitting back on the bed, my fingers ran over the smooth leather casing, and traced the golden thread that hadbeen stitched into the image of a sun. Below that were silver threads, stitched into the shape of gryphon wings.
The sigil of Ka Hart. Rhyan’s sigil.
I swallowed roughly, my throat dry and hugged the scabbard to my chest, careful as I shifted my injured arm. There was a fresh set of bandages, clean and white. There was no sign of bleeding. My skin was no longer hot and swollen. The red streaks were gone. And I no longer had a fever. The infection was gone. Miraculously, it no longer hurt.
A door opened and closed at the top of the stairs, briefly allowing in some golden light. Auriel appeared, his eyes meeting mine instantly. “Lyriana?” Auriel asked. “Thank the realms.” He started down the stairs, his feet moving quickly into a slow jog. “You look so much better,” he sounded relieved. “How are you feeling?”
I sat up straighter. “How am I feeling? How am I feeling!” I yelled. I gestured at the bed, at the dark basement walls. “You bastard! You Godsdamned bastard!”
“I’m a bastard?” he asked, throwing his hands up. “The hell did I do to you now?” he snapped. “You’ve been awake for what? A minute?” Auriel shook his head. “Believe me, I haven’t had nearly enough time to properly offend you.” His eyes narrowed. “Though if you wish, I can certainly try.”
“You forced me to sleep. You knew I didn’t want to lose consciousness. Lose time!” I yelled. “Gods, Auriel! I fucking told you. I told you I didn’t want to! I pleaded with you.”
“Yes, well, I can’t dispute that,” he scoffed. “But let me tell you something, Lyriana. Your fever was dangerously high—even for someone as powerful and strong as you. That stab wound was infected down to the bone. So, at that exact moment, it didn’t really matter what you wanted. Branwyn packed it and repacked it three times since you’ve been asleep, to make surethe infection didn’t continue to spread. To make sure you healed. Fucking realms. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your arm!”
“So what! I can’t rest, Auriel! I don’t have time! Don’t you get it? Rhyan is an akadim! A Godsdamned fucking akadim!” I cried. “I can’t even stand to think about what he’s doing out there now. Or to think about Meera and Jules, and the rest of our friends. They’re all just out there and vulnerable. I have to find them. I have to find all of them.”
“And you will! You will. But not yet!” His eyebrows furrowed. “Can’t you hear yourself? If I’d let you go out there with the fever you just recovered from, you’d have been captured instantly. Denied medical care by His Majesty, and then what? You would rather waste away in their dungeons? Did you want to stand trial for the murder of not only the Blade, but the Emperor? Stand trial for every other murder they manage to pin on you?” His nostrils flared. “You’d never find your friends. Nor Rhyan. Is that really what you want?”
I closed my mouth, my lips tightening together, refusing to answer him.
“Huh, Lyriana? Is it?” Auriel stalked toward me. “You are Asherah reborn. You are my soulmate.”
“No.” I violently shook my head.
But Auriel continued, “Her soul is your soul. I know you. And soon enough you will be as strong as she was. Stronger even. But you’re not strong enough to fight this, not right now. Not yet. Your body is still mortal. And for some fucking reason, you seem hellbent on forgetting that fact.”
“Forgetting?” I shouted. “You think I can forget? That I could watch my lover, my own soul, being torn away from me in the most violent way possible, and I’d just forget the rules of mortality? Trust me, I remember. Of course, I remember. What you don’t understand is that right now, I don’t care.”
“Well you fucking should.”
“I can’t. There are bigger things happening than me. And if you can’t handle that, then you should just leave.” I folded my arms across my chest and looked away.
“Lyriana, be reasonable. Please. Whether you’ll admit it or not, you needed the rest. The infection has cleared. Your fever, too.”
I continued to stare ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.
Auriel made a noise low in his throat. “Fine. Ignore me. I’ve only been keeping cold compresses on your head, and rebandaging your arm every hour. Just so you know.” He shook his head, his lips twitching in anger. “I sat there and held you while we cleaned out your arm. You’re welcome.”
“What do you want? A fucking medal for playing nurse?”
“I want you to stop fighting me like I’m your enemy. Like it’s my fault what happened, or that I’m here. I want you to admit that I have your best interest at heart.”
“How many hours?” I gritted through my teeth, my stomach twisting. “Huh, Auriel? How many hours did you force me to sleep for?”
“None. I didn’t force you to sleep for any length of time,” he yelled. “Your body woke up when it was ready to—when it was healed enough for you to go on.”
“How many?” I asked again, my voice dangerously cold. “I didn’t just fall asleep by natural means. It was you. Your magic. And if I stayed asleep through all this—” I pointed at my arm, “Then it was because you had a hand in it. So what was it? How many hours?”
His eyes met mine, his jaw tensing. “I stopped counting.”
“When?”
“When I counted twenty-four.”
