“Thank you,” Ivy said. She took a frostberry and popped it into her mouth, enjoying the firm, icy texture. It reminded her of the ice cream they ate sometimes back at the castle, the childhood memory so hazy she sometimes thought she dreamed it.
Vale kept walking. Ivy walked beside him, eating out of his hand. The void pulsed in her head, alerting her that they were almost at their destination. But before she could say it, Vale spoke up.
“We are almost there,” Vale announced.
Ivy paused, covering her mouth to hide the frostberry she was chewing. “How do you know?”
“I may not have the void talking in my ear anymore,” Vale said. “But I remember where the castle is.”
Ivy nodded, feeling silly. Vale had been here for millennia; of course, he knew where everything was.
“It was on your list of things to fix,” Ivy said, taking another frostberry from his cupped palms. “Right? Clearing up the castle?”
Vale grunted. “I do not think we will have time to clean.”
Ivy laughed. It was shorter than usual. She was distracted by his gait, which was slumped and slow. His eyes were a dull glow. And were his claws more brittle than yesterday? She would tryto check when the pollen took over later. He enjoyed digging his claws into her hips.
They were down to the last few frostberries when Vale growled out of nowhere.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Ivy startled, tearing her probing gaze away. “Like what?”
“With pity in your eyes,” Vale said.
“There’s no pity,” Ivy tried. “I’m just worried.”
“Do not worry. There is no sense in it.”
Ivy stared up at the trees. Even though the rot had not reached them yet, the leaves were fading. The bony tree trunks chipped at the slightest touch. The entire void was weakening, and Vale weakened with it.
“We can walk slower,” Ivy offered.
“We cannot,” Vale replied. “We must cure the void.”
Ivy plucked the last frostberry from Vale’s hands, irritated as she chewed. She couldn’t argue with that logic. But she hated forcing him onward when he was feeling like this.
“Do not frown,” Vale said, dropping his berry-stained hands. “I have been working tirelessly for generations before you were born.”
“Yes,” Ivy said hesitantly. “And you shouldn’t have. I can’t believe the void didn’t make you more light-motes!”
The void stirred in her head. It did not feel offended, like Ivy had been worrying about. She wondered if she could offend the void at all. If poisoning the void didn’t upset it, then this certainly wouldn’t.
“It cannot,” Vale said. “That is surely the only reason it would not give me more.”
Ivy nodded thoughtfully. It made sense. But it also filled her mind with questions.
“Where did they come from in the first place?” she asked. “The light-motes?”
“I do not know. They simply appeared.” Vale came to a stop, his face creasing in pain. It was the most she had seen him react beyond falling down, and Ivy touched his elbow in alarm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing new.” Vale dropped his head, his glowing eyes squeezing shut as he braced himself through whatever was roiling through him. Then he opened his eyes and started walking again, his shoulders slumped and his tail dragging on the ground.
“Speak to me,” he said as Ivy dropped into step beside him. “Distract me from these annoyances.”
Ivy couldn’t help but smile. Mere weeks ago,shehad been the annoyance. He’d told her to stop talking many times. Now he was asking for it.
