“Unhinged,” I agree, my cheeks warming since I can’t help thinking about last night.
Felix throws his one arm in the air like he's had enough of this. “Gods above, you all really do belong together. Fine. If you’re set on getting yourselves killed and turned into Undead puppets, I won't try to stop you—but I’m not risking my happily bonded life for this idiotic plan, so I'll be waiting here. If you die, I’m leaving.”
Crypt stomps out his cigarette, shrugging. “Fair on all fronts.”
He starts to say something else, but his markings light up brightly before he breaks into a sudden coughing fit, grimacing as he drops to his knees. His next cough sends a spray of bright red blood across the white snow.
I swear. So does Baelfire. Silas crouches beside the incubus as his coughing fit winds down. Crypt bats Silas away when he tries to help him up, and as he does, I can’t help noticing that the swirling light and dark markings on his hands are gone.
Felix doesn’t bother hiding his surprise. “What’s happening to him?”
Crypt is…dying.
My other quintet members and I exchange solemn looks as that truth becomes more obvious than ever.
When we were younger, I could never figure out the Nightmare Prince’s curse. Sometimes I thought maybe he didn’t even have one. He was inhumanly ruthless, stronger than most incubi ever dream of being, and didn’t give a shit about anything. Basically, he was untouchable.
But now, seeing him struggle to get to his feet as his curse wracks his body?
I almost can’t watch.
“You good?” I check quietly.
Crypt wipes blood off his mouth, completely ignoring my question and everyone’s concerned looks. Instead, he gestures in the direction Silas’s spell was leading us.
“The prick’s in an abandoned cabin that way,” he rasps. “Before we pop in, I’ll weaken him.”
“Enough with the blasted singing!” Silas hisses at one of the nearby trees before he frowns at Crypt. “Weaken him, how?”
“Wisps. Keep up, but don’t go in until the screaming stops,” he offers vaguely before vanishing back into Limbo.
Felix stays there as our meeting point to travel back, but the rest of us continue to follow the tracking spell that only Silas can see. As we trudge toward a cabin in the distance that I can barely make out through the snowfall, a low croak nearby makes me look around.
Three ravens just perched on a nearby tree to watch us.
Those beady-eyed birds used to torment me. I loathed them and saw them as a sign that the gods were mocking me.
Now that I know it was Maven all along, keeping an eye on me all the way from Paradise…
Godsdamn me, I adore her.
“Maven’s ravens will tell her where we are soon,” I murmur, looking ahead again.
Baelfire barks a laugh. “Maven's Ravens sounds like a band. Don't worry. We'll be picking up this asshole’s charred bones and bringing them back to her before she can try following us into danger.”
Silas jumps through the snow like he's crossing a chasm of some kind. I don't have the heart to tell the lunatic that this is the flattest, safest terrain we've come across so far.
“Why bring back his bones?” Silas frowns.
“Why the hell not?” Baelfire shrugs. “Just picture Maven's face when she sees them.”
That's true. I can already imagine that morbid, beautiful smile curling her lips. Our keeper would love a vengeful, gruesome gift like that.
As we near the snow-lined cabin ahead, Silas holds out an arm to stop us.
“Wait. There are several severe magic snares laid here that I need to disarm first.”
Bael rubs his temples, cursing at his dragon. “You sure they're actually there, or are you just…you know. Seeing shit?”
