“You make demands like a queen,” he muttered as he gathered the cloth and brought it to her.
“No,” she said as she began untying the blood-soaked bandages from Lex’s arm, “just someone who has no reason to help you but is anyway.”
The unicorn named Valorre tossed his mane. The creature had maintained his distance from Teryn and Lex, keeping to the opposite side of camp. Even so, Teryn caught the unicorn watching him from time to time, likely holding a grudge over the spear incident. Berol, meanwhile, took up post as far from the unicorn as she could get. Every so often, she’d shift in the branch overhead as if to remind both Cora and Valorre that she was watching.
Cora paused her ministrations and looked at Valorre. Then, resuming her removal of the bandages, she said, “Why should I be nice? I don’t see you being warm and cuddly.”
Teryn frowned, eyes darting between the girl and the unicorn. “Did you just…talk to Valorre?”
Her face went slack with surprise. Perhaps she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. She quickly covered the expression with a look of nonchalance. “Don’t you talk to your feathered companion? What’s her name? Barrel?”
“Berol,” Teryn corrected. “Like the—”
Her gaze darted to him. “Like Berolla, the fae queen’s legendary dragon.”
Teryn was surprised she knew. Faerytales were common enough, but he’d only heard about this one from Larylis. When he’d first found the falcon as a hatchling, he knew she needed a fierce name. Part of him thought it would improve her chances of survival. So when Larylis shared the tale of Berolla—the dragon who once ruled the skies in the days of the Elvyn and Faeryn—he knew it was the perfect namesake.
Cora averted her gaze and steeled her expression, as if she regretted showing interest in their conversation. She finished unwrapping the bandages and reached for a flask.
“What’s in that—” Before Lex could finish, Cora poured it over the wound. The smell of strong spirits wafted into the air. Rum. Teryn could only hope it bore no poison.
He watched as she cleaned Lex’s wound and began to stitch it closed with a needle and thread she’d taken from one of the pouches on her belt. When Lex began whimpering, she wordlessly handed him the mug of tea. This time, he accepted it. Her every move was steady and methodical as she continued her work. She’d clearly done this before. After the final stitch was made, she spread a mushy paste over Lex’s arm, its odor pungent.
Lex wrinkled his nose. “This is disgusting. What is it?”
“Herbs,” Cora said, then held out her palm to Teryn.
He stood at her side and handed her the cloth. By the time she was done wrapping his arm, Lex looked as pale as a ghost. His throat bobbed as he cradled his arm against his chest. “Do you have more tea?”
Cora didn’t hide her smirk as she poured him another mug.
Teryn expected Lex to thank her as he accepted the offering, but instead he said, “You must be a witch.”
Cora simply stared back at him.
Teryn stiffened. “Oh,” he said, looking at her in a new light. “You are a witch.” It made sense now. Her knowledge of healing and poison. The fact that she lived in the woods. Except… “I didn’t know witches were real.”
She faced him with a quirked brow. “I didn’t know idiot princes were real, and yet here you both are.”
Teryn bristled. “What did we ever do to you?”
“Do you honestly have to ask?” She stood and planted her hands on her hips. “You tried to kill Valorre—”
“Yes, remind me why the two of you seem to know each other,” Lex interjected.
“—then you lied to me about who you work for—”
“I told you,” Teryn said, “I didn’t lie.”
“—then you lied to me when you promised never to come near a unicorn again.”
She had a point about that last part. “I’m…I’m sorry about that. About all of it. It was important that I try…” He ran a hand over his face, his fatigue bone deep. “I’dthoughtit was important to complete our mission. I’d thought…” He shook his head and returned to his seat on the other side of the fire.
Her brow furrowed as she studied him, her head cocked slightly to the side. After a few moments of silence, her shoulders fell, as if she too were overcome by the same exhaustion Teryn felt. She returned to sitting. “Tell me the truth then. Tell me why you came to hunt unicorns.”
“Or else…” He expected a threat. Why else should he tell her anything? Why else should they do anything but part ways now, knowing not a single thing more about one another? She hated hunters. He was one. Perhaps his intentions weren’t as dark as that of the men she’d poisoned, but she was right. He’d almost tried to kill her unicorn companion. He’d broken his promise—a promise he’d made without any intention of fulfilling it—and targeted another unicorn right after. Had James not planted suspicion in his mind, Teryn might not have been prepared to stop Helios in time. If Helios had taken the unicorn’s horn, Teryn would have shared the responsibility.
His stomach turned at that.All this time, Helios knew. He knew I’d be too soft for the truth. Teryn wasn’t sure if he should feel ashamed about that. It wasn’t like he’d thought they could remove a unicorn’s pelt without killing it. While it had never occurred to him that the horn would need to be taken while the unicorn was alive, he’d always known the creature would have to die. Was that where Teryn drew the line? He could kill, but not make an animal needlessly suffer?
