Startled by an unexpected greeting, Erich turned to see Fritz looking away and thrusting a bundle of clothing toward him. Erich took it without a word, and the elf sat back down beside a small campfire to poke at smoldering kindling yet to catch.
“I’d have dressed you, but I figured you’d rather do it yourself,” Fritz commented, the back of his neck burning red.
“How did we escape the city?” Erich asked.
“Help me with the fire. I was never good at lighting these,” Fritz said without looking up at him and without answering his question.
Sighing and knowing the elf would tell him in his own time, he knelt down and, cupping his hands, blew on embers until they caught. The flames licked at the dry wood, rising higher, turning into a small fire. When he was satisfied it would keep burning, he looked to Fritz for an explanation, but he was still avoiding his gaze as he scraped scales off some trout.
“Liane?” Erich prompted.
“Safe.”
“And I—”
“Turned into a dragon in front of her,” Fritz said.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Erich asked.
Fritz skewered two fat trout and set them over the fire without speaking. Then watched the first cook for a few long minutes before pulling it off the fire. One side looked charred while the other undercooked. And Erich, needing to do something with his hands and not wanting to eat charcoal fish, set the second piece further from the flame, hoping it would cook more evenly. Transformations left him ravenous, but even he couldn’t stomach burnt food.
Erich cleared his throat, to give Fritz a hint to continue.
“There’s too much to recount,” Fritz looked tired, haggard. The dark circles smudged under his eyes made him look like he hadn’t slept in months.
“Give me the short version then,” Erich growled.
“You killed the prince consort, the Midnight Guard arrived, and Liane compelled you to run and saved your life. But she remains in the control of the Church of Sol, now with awakened powers and to be used as their weapon and an even bigger target on her back, should they reveal her nature. I think that about sums it up.”
“What do you mean? If she’s with the Church of Sol, can’t they protect her?” Erich said.
He hadn’t stopped to consider what Liane’s power might mean to the church but seeing as they’d been gathering up all traces of it or destroying it for centuries, it came as no surprise that her power would interest them. But with the Midnight Guard and the might of the church protecting her, she’d be safe, wouldn’t she?
“Corruption is like a hydra; cut off one head, and three more pop out,” Fritz said as he turned the fish over to cook the other side.
“You’re talking in circles again.”
He sat back on his heels and met Erich’s stare. “The Avatheos intends to destroy all dark magic and my people using the sword. And that’s why they want her dead. But light cannot exist without dark; if either succeeds, it will awaken chaos and the end of the world…”
“Then we go back and rescue her—” Erich stood as if it were as easy as marching back into the capital.
“It’s too late; the course of fate has already changed. We cannot stop it,” Fritz said, looking dejected. “Had I realized the truth sooner, I might have prevented this. I could have convinced her to leave before her power awakened but now that the Avatheos knows, he will not give her up easily. And they’ll keep her closely guarded; there won’t be another chance.”
Liane’s face floated to mind, her brows pinched, as she’d sent him away. She’d known they wouldn’t let her go, and to stay beside her was a death sentence. But the dual-colored stag knew and sent her to him for a reason, and if he believed in things such as fate, he might have thought this was all meant to be.
He’d never intended to get involved. All he wanted was a cure. Maybe he couldn’t be freed of his curse, but this power he feared had saved her, and it could do it again. It was time he stopped cowering in the shadows. Even if it meant walking into certain death, he’d do anything to protect her. At least then, this curse had some meaning, some purpose other than destruction.
“What will the Avatheos do with her?” Erich asked.
Fritz sighed and leaned back on his hands, head tilted upward to the sky. “They’ll likely take her to Basilia to train and mold her into the perfect weapon. Why?” His gold and silver eyes turned to Erich, pinning him in place, perhaps guessing what he was about to say.
Erich held out his hand to Fritz. “There’s still a sword to steal, and you still owe me a cure.”
34
Days had passed since she’d helped Erich escape, and, in that time, she’d slipped in and out of exhausted sleep plagued by fevers. Priestesses came into her room, plying her with foul-smelling tonics, and changing out her cold cloths. It reminded her painfully of the early days of her fevers, right after she’d fused with the sword.
Mother sitting at her bedside, head sagging against her chest, slumbered. Liane’s fever had broken just before sunrise, and she’d dared not wake her. She must be exhausted. Had she even slept over the last few days? Liane wasn’t even sure how many days it’d been. From her fuzzy memories, it must have been at least three, perhaps more. Instead of waking Mother, she lay in the silence, letting her thoughts tumble over one another, like stones in a fast-moving river, as sunrise crested the mountains. She watched sunlight creep across her bedroom floor, then crawl over her comforter. She wanted to go outside and tip her face skyward to soak in the rays. But she could hardly lift her arms from her sides. So, she reached for the coming sunbeam, but when it touched her, it burned, and Liane yelped and retracted her hand. If indirect sunlight burned her, would she be unable to go outside ever again? What curse had this sword put upon her?
