She laughs. “Oh, I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are.” She gestures behind her to where a table is overflowing with flowers, stuffed animals, and balloons.
I shake my head. “Who… did this?”
She tucks a strand of her blond hair back into her bun. “Who didn’t send something? Marabella told me to tell you that Commander Marcel, Everald, and Master George all sent well-wishes along with flowers and gifts, but there are also ones that came without a card?—”
“What about…?” Damien. Where’s Damien?
“Damien? No flowers from him, but to be fair he’s hardly left your room.” She points to the corner. I have to crane my neck to see him sleeping in the chair there. “It’s noon topside, and he’s barely slept since your surgery. He’s going to be out for a few more hours.”
Noon. It was still night when I came back through the archway. “How long have I been out?”
Her face falls, and her hand finds mine before she says, “It’s been six days.”
“Six days!”
Over the next few minutes, Karen removes all the tubes but the IV from my body, helps me to the bathroom, and orders me food. I’m in remarkably good shape for someone who’s been unconscious for six days, but I’m told it’s because Dr. Everline used magic as well as human medicine. I eat some soup and drink a protein shake.
And when Damien finally wakes, I’m standing next to the bed. “Hey, sleepyhead,” I say lightly.
A cloud of darkness swirls around me, spiraling in a ticklish rush that takes my breath away until Damien forms with me in his arms. He hugs me gently, his breath brushing the side of my neck.
“I’m okay,” I say softly, kissing the edge of his ear. “Feeling better by the minute.”
He draws back, taking my face in his hands.
“I won, Damien,” I say excitedly. “I only have to win one more challenge and we’re free.”
He licks his lips. All at once he looks gaunt, and I remember how Cassius said he could hide his scar but at a huge personal cost. Damien is desperately trying to mask his condition, and that mask is slipping. Has he eaten anything the past six days? Has he taken any blood?
“You can’t go back through that archway,” he says in a voice that is more grit than words.
I shake my head, searching his face for any hint that he’s joking. He’s not. “You know I can’t just quit. That’s not how this works. Sabrina told me the challenge is a magical contract.”
He swallows. “The magic is strong. I tried to travel, to consult with Cassius and his coven master about how to break free of this challenge. I was not able to leave. The spell is binding.”
“Right.” I lay my hands on the sides of his handsome face. His cheeks are unusually hollow, and his eyes are icy without the hint of blue I often see when he’s content. “So… you know then I have to go through again. I have to compete in the second trial.”
“You could have died.”
“I didn’t.”
He helps me back into bed and takes one of my hands between his own. “That thing you faced is called a Black Lake salamander,” he mumbles.
My eyes widen in surprise. How could he possibly know what my challenge entailed? “Could you see what was happening to me from the silo?”
“No. The venom was in your leg, and I smelled its blood on your daggers.”
“Oh.”
“Tell me what happened.”
With the light from the garden shining through the window behind him, his face is cloaked in shadow, but when he sits on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slump like he’s exhausted. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Tell me,” he grits out.
“It’s over, Damien. I think you should eat.”
He closes his eyes for a beat. “Tell me. Please.”
