As if she knows what I’m thinking, she shakes her head. “I’ve never killed a person. Not before today.”
“Do you regret it? Even though he killed Malan?”
She looks at the body impaled upon the root. “I can’t say I regret it, no, but I don’t feel good about it either.”
“Then we feel the same.”
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Come. We’re close to the wall. We’ll both feel better once we cross it. Physically, that is.”
* * *
It’sa slow journey to the wall, with neither of us pushing ourselves to the limit now that we’re no longer being chased by a madman. However, we must put as much distance between us and the laboratory as we can. Mr. Duveau said he’d be back to fetch Lorelei on his way to take my mother to the Spire.
My mother.
My breath hitches. I hate to think that Mr. Duveau could punish her for what was done tonight. He warned Mr. Meeks that he’d hold the surgeon responsible if anything were to go awry. Well, awry it went, and then some. But will Mr. Duveau maintain that no harm will come to my mother until her trial? Had I allowed too much room for interpretation in that bargain? Do I even have enough fae blood to enforce a fae bargain, however that works to begin with?
The towering stones of the faewall come into view as the trees begin to thin. I don’t know if it’s simply relief or from our nearness to Faerwyvae, but my pains seem to lessen. My breaths come to me easier with every step we take closer. Lorelei appears to be back to full health despite her torn, bloodied dress and grave expression.
I rub my arms over my bare shoulders as we cross between two standing stones and enter the dense fog. Only when it fades to reveal a spring meadow do we stop. We fall to our knees and sink into the plush, dew-covered grass. Night has fully fallen and all is quiet around us. Pink blossoms sway in the trees at the edge of the meadow while opalescent moths flutter through the night sky.
Lorelei tilts her head to the stars, as if bathing in their radiance. My eyes rove her wrists, and I see nothing but the faintest marks where the cuffs had chafed and the molten metal had burned. A dark stain covers her torso, probably from where Mr. Osterman speared her when he and Mr. Meeks captured us.
I examine my wrists and see that my own wounds have faded, perhaps more so than Lorelei’s. My eyes then move to my arms. Aside from being smeared with dirt and dried blood, it appears the cuts have sealed shut. Is that because of my heritage? Or because I used fire? Growing up, I never noticed any unusual rate of healing for whatever minor cuts and bruises I received. Could it be I’ve always healed quickly?
I feel Lorelei’s eyes on me. “Are any of your wounds bothering you?” she asks.
“No, they feel much improved. How about yours?”
She rubs her torso where her dress is stained with blood. “Sore, but mostly healed, I believe. The Butcher of Stone Ninety-Four let my spear wound close before he put me in the iron chains. I think he liked his prey to put up a fight.”
My throat feels tight as I recall his body, the root pierced through his chest. I blink the vision away. “What do we do now?”
She looks away, brow wrinkled as she ponders. Without meeting my eyes, she says, “We could go to Autumn. King Aspen will keep you safe.”
I remember the version of him in my dream, the terror in his eyes when he implored me to wake up. My heart sinks to think of him, especially when I consider the truth. Aspen wasn’t there. He’s home safe in Bircharbor Palace with his new Chosen. Just like I said I wanted.
“No, I can’t go there.”
She doesn’t question me or press further. Instead, she plays with a blade of grass, expression deep in thought.
“Is there anywhere safe to stay in Spring? We’re already on the Spring axis. Perhaps there’s somewhere I could lie low until my mother’s trial.”
She tilts her head as she contemplates. “Spring is a neutral seelie court, so you may be safe here. I don’t dare bring you to the palace though. If word has spread about who you are and what the humans have planned for you, there could be many who would either take you to King Ustrin or return you to Eisleigh. The same goes for any seelie ruler, in fact.”
“Maybe I should go back.” I shudder. “I should have taken my imprisonment to begin with. None of this would have happened if I had.”
“You don’t belong in a prison.”
“Neither does my mother.”
She lets out a sigh. “If you feel you must go back, I can’t forbid you. But I don’t believe they will be kind if you do.”
She’s probably right. After what I did, locking me in the Spire would be a mercy. Mr. Duveau’s bargain only stated no harm would come to my mother. He made no promise about me. There’s a good chance he would force me to spend my days before Mother’s trial in the care of another surgeon like Mr. Meeks, or perhaps he’d take me where he was planning on taking Lorelei.
“Do you know what the Briar House is?”
Lorelei’s lips pull into a snarl. “A brothel, most likely.” Her anger fades quickly, shoulders slumping. “Now that I know what the Butcher likes to do with his victims, I think Malan’s fate may have been a kindness.”
