She sits on the bed and whispers,“You worried me.”
I take her hand and plant a kiss on its palm. “I know. And I’m sorry. But it was then or never… and if this journal can help us…”
“I understand. Also… Lidiane brought a drop of Zorwal’s blood.”
I can barely believe her words. “Blood? How did she get it?”
“She pricked him with a pin. I licked it, to try to save Azur.”
Based on her tone, I can already guess it didn’t work. “And?”
“His magic can heal the physical body, but can’t reverse magical poisoning. I’m trying to use my light on him, but Zorwal’s power is muddling it, I think.”
I consider her words. “Do you think your light can heal him?”
“For now, I’m just hoping it can slow the spread enough to give us time to find a cure.”
“Two weeks is more than enough.” At least I hope so, and I don’t want to give any voice to the part of me fearing we’ll fail. “The Witch King should be dead by then.”
She shakes her head. “His fingers are all white. He has a day or two at most.”
I can’t manage to feel any worry for Azur, but I do worry about Lidiane, and my stomach sinks. At the same time, I think Astra might be right about her own magic. “Your light is powerful. It might work.”
She gives me a tense smile, then says, “Let’s get this journal, then. Do you want me to help you pull it from your behind?” At least she graces me with a lovely, playful chuckle.
“I’m wondering where my brother got that idea.”
“Pulled it right from his ass, no doubt.”
I chuckle, then close my eyes and think about the enchanted suitcase. When I open my eyes, the relic is lying on the bed.
Astra looks at it carefully. “I thought you couldn’t transcend objects to this island.”
“I wasn’t sure myself, but decided to try. I’m guessing it depends on the object.”
I open the suitcase, then take the journal from it. “That’s all that was in the box.”
Flipping some pages, I realize they’re handwritten notes—in my stepfather’s writing.
Astra cranes her neck to look at it. “Are you going to show it to your brother?”
“I should, right? He told me about this.”
She places a hand on my arm. “But you don’t trust him.”
“I don’t know. But then… I assume he wants to survive. And he’s trying to help—despite everything he’s done. And he saved my life.”
My words don’t even make sense to me, when a flurry of emotions battle in my chest. I swallow.
“I truly don’t know, wife. In one moment, I hate my brother for taking my throne, for allying with Zorwal, for everything I went through. And then it all goes away and I understand that he had to make terrible choices, and that his life wasn’t easy. But at the same time, he was there, pretending to be king. Of course it was easy. There was a lot of selfishness in his choices. He saved me, yes, but he also cast me away, where I could have been easily killed. I was almost killed a bunch of times. Then I think about Mirella, and I’m so angry she had to spend all those years in that tower. Angry that my brother didn’t even tell me where she was, that he let her go through this.Oh, it was a curse, there was nothing I could do.But it’s not like he tried. And then he kidnapped you and put me in that prison.”
Astra runs a hand through my hair and I close my eyes, her touch so soft.
She says, “The contents of the journal are for you, and the coffer opened for you only. You don’t need to share it with anyone. At the same time, if your brother wants to help, let him help. It doesn’t mean you forgive him. And you don’t need to forgive him if your heart is not ready. These things take time.”
I pick up the journal, snap it shut, and get up. “We need all the help we can get.”
“We do.” Astra nods and gets up, and we go to the kitchen.
