They had both crossed lines that could ruin everything. Felix was used to being treated that way. He could swallow it, bury it, move on. But August wasn’t. If this wasn’t fixed, he might leave for good.
The thought gutted Felix.
With a deep breath, he uncoiled, and the thrumming in his veins slowly settled into a quiet warmth. He crossed to grab the keys from behind the bar, then stopped in front of August.
“I’m sorry for bringing Lottie into it.” It was mostly true. Ithadworked, after all. “But I really do need you, Auggie. Will you still help me?”
August sighed. “Alright, yeah, fine. But if you don’t die in the Hollow Dark, you’re cooking me something delicious.”
Felix couldn’t help himself. “As you wish,” he said, motioning August forward with a sweeping hand and a melodramatic bow.
“I hate you,” August muttered, but there was the edge of a smile as he turned and headed for the door.
Felix grinned. “Liar.”
The hours in the stolen carriage went by in silence. Felix idly spun shapes from smoke, and August stared attentively out his window, searching, as if willing a rescue that would never come.
The lack of sleep had finally caught up with Marlow, and now the soft, steady sound of rain on the roof blended with the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves, lulling her into a tired reverie.
It had been a long time since she’d been outside of Bedwyck. She’d heard rumors of how bad things were in Fallowmoor. More blocks of the city gone, the ministry taking over the law enforcement, new laws and curfews. Though most were hearsay. Drunks at The Blackened Anchor who’d heard from a friend who’d heard from another friend. The newspapers had stopped printing, and the resistance dead drops had been abandoned, so she couldn’t be sure.
For all she knew, her home was gone. Perhaps they were too late, and the darkness had already swallowed the entire city.
She’d hated leaving Fallowmoor behind. It was the only home she’d ever known. The place where she’d lost her old family buthad also found a new one. Where she and Felix had spent their days doing odd jobs for shopkeepers to make a few extra caern, slipping small things off shelves while they weren’t looking. It was where she’d worked for over a year with the resistance, fighting for change. But between Ciaran’s people and the price on their heads, they’d had no choice but to run.
It had been a special kind of hell at first, the hiding, the waiting, the hoping that this would pass and life would go back to the way it was before. After the first year, Bedwyck had fully succumbed to the plague caused by the elixir. Those people—creatures, really—their minds so addled and desperate. Many residents headed east to Haverglen. The ones who stayed were either torn open or forced into hiding.
Over time, the number of creatures roaming the streets finally dwindled. Marlow wasn’t sure if it was the elixir’s doing or their neglect of basic human needs. The violence in the streets quieted a little, but the damage was done. Bedwyck was a ruin.
What if Fallowmoor had suffered the same fate? Even if the darkness hadn’t taken it, what were the odds that it was still intact?
Felix blamed August for destroying their lives, and he wasn’t wrong. But the aesling wasn’t the only one responsible. He’d released the darkness and left the tear to spread, but Ciaran had unleashed this plague. Even now, his elixirs were still being restocked and wielders were being still murdered.
Was it worth it?she thought. Your wealth? Your stolen magic? Was it worth the destruction and the death?
She’d trusted him, and he’d lied to her. Used her.
Felix had his fight, sure, but Marlow had her own.
She kept her chin in her hand, stealing glances at the two of them. August looked like death. Could he even fix this? Felix would kill him once he did. She was actually surprised he hadn’t already. His self-restraint wasn’t exactly what it used to be.
Marlow let her eyes close, and when she opened them again, the sun was low outside the window. How long had she slept?
She straightened, checking that August and Felix hadn’t killed each other while she was out.
Felix was slouched back, long limbs taking up more space than necessary—his arm draped across the back of the seat behind her head, his good leg propped on the bench beside August.
Had he slept at all?
The aesling shifted, his hands twisting in his lap. “I’m hungry.”
“You should’ve brought food,” Felix mumbled.
“I didn’t really have the chance to pack.”
“And I really couldn’t care less.”
Marlow sighed, trying, and failing, to tune them out.
