“He’s not here,” I whisper, mostly to myself. “He’s not here…”
“Who’s not here?” he asks, brushing a few strands of blonde hair from his eyes.
I flush, heat rushing to my cheeks. Gods, he probably thinks I’m unhinged.
“Who are you?” I fire back instead, retreating a step, just out of reach. “And were you trying to poison me?” I cough, the foul sting of that disgusting liquid still coating my tongue.
He lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m Ziek.” He offers his hand—steady and gentle. “And no, I wasn’t poisoning you. Actually,”—a small laugh escapes him—“I just saved you.”
I hesitate, taking his hand gingerly. He guides me back toward the bed, supporting my shaky steps. As he moves, I finally place him—the bright blue eyes, the same ones that hovered over me when a stranger carried my limp body through the forest.
“You’re lucky I found you when I did,” he says, jerking his head toward the dark trees outside. “You were kissed by the Lady of Death.”
His eyes smile at me, soft and knowing.
My confusion only deepens. “Lady of Death?” I echo.
The words brush cold fingers down my spine.
“The yellow flowers,” he says, cocking a brow. The edge of his hood casts a shadow across the top of his forehead, making his sapphire eyes stand out even more. “They’re silent killers. Carnivorous, in fact.”
He steps toward a low wooden table and picks up a small object—my cup, I think. “They lure you in with their beauty, but their pollen is deadly. It sends you into an eternal slumber and melts your insides so they can drink you dry.”
An eternal slumber.
My stomach drops. How long had I been out?
My vision blurs for a moment with rising panic.
“My friends… where are they?” I push to my feet, too quickly, and the ground tilts under me, the room wobbling like it’s made of stretched canvas.
“They’re safe,” Ziek says firmly, steadying me with a hand on my arm. “They all drank the same elixir I gave you.”
My heart slows by a fraction—still racing, but no longer galloping toward terror. They were safe. They were alive.
“That stuff was anelixir?” I glance down at the brown cup resting beneath the table. The thick grey sludge at the bottom looks like something scraped from a swamp. I can still taste it—metallic and bitter, like rotten blood. I drag my tongue across my teeth like that might help.
“Yes,” Ziek says with a wry grimace. “It’s foul—I won’t argue that—but it’s the only thing that reverses the pollen’s effects.”
He tugs his scarf down from his nose and chin, revealing the rest of his face. Strong features softened by a kind of reluctant warmth. A light stubble cradles his jaw, threads of silver tarnishing the brown.
“It can have some adverse side effects,” he adds, nodding toward the shadowed corner where I’d broken down moments earlier. “Like that vision you just had—still,it’s better than becoming putty.”
“I should get going,” I say, my gaze catching on my bag slumped in the corner. “Thanks for… saving us.”
I push to my feet—too sudden. The ground whirls again, my vision blurring at the edges like wet ink bleeding outward. My knees wobble, and the whole tent seems to sway with me.
Ziek rises halfway, hands ready, though he doesn’t touch me yet. “You really should rest. At least until the elixir finishes working.”
“I don’t have time to rest.” The words come out thin and stubborn, scraping against the back of my throat.
His jaw tightens. “If you go out there now, you’re going to get yourself killed.” He gestures toward the tent flap, voice firm but not unkind. “Trust me—I know.”
The sincerity in his eyes gives me pause, a flicker of something raw and unguarded. I try to hold my resolve, but my legs buckle again, betraying me.
“Alright,” I breathe, the fight draining out of me. “Fine.”
He steps forward—slowly, carefully—as if approaching a startled animal. His hand hovers near my arm before he finally supports me back to the bed. The moment I sit, the fabric sighs under my weight, and so do I.
