I clutched Neave to my chest with all the strength I had left.
“Yvaine?” I choked out. “Is it you?”
She cocked her head, blinking. “What is this name? I have never heard it, and yet somehow it rings true.”
Her figure flickered—woman to bird to woman once more. The low, smooth sound of her voice drew fresh tears from my eyes.
“Ankaret,” I said instead, which made her smile in delight, as if she’d heard something wondrous for the very first time.
“You found her,” she said, and then she bent low to look at me with two brilliant eyes of fire. Something about her countenance shifted; she looked suddenly stern. “Listen, now. This will hurt, and when you wake, I will be small, hidden, but not gone. It will take me some time to come back to myself, for I will be newly reborn. But do not be afraid. I will not leave you again. Do you understand?”
I didn’t. Maybe this wasn’t truly happening. Maybe this was a delusion overtaking my mind as I slipped into the Great Dominion.
But I nodded anyway, my arms still wrapped like iron around Neave’s shivering frame.
Ankaret, real or not, smiled, and in the next moment, warmth surrounded me, as if I’d crawled from darkness into sunlight. The relief was so profound that it was hard to breathe. But then that gentle warmth turned scorching, a blazing fire I couldn’t escape. The pain tore a scream from my throat. Suddenly I couldn’t open my eyes. An enormous pressure kept them closed. Only once did I manage to crack them open for a moment. I saw swirling flashes of color, felt the burn of lightning. That same low hum I’d heard in the forest murmured all around me. I had the sense of moving very fast—too fast, faster than I could ever possibly run.
Then, abruptly, everything stopped. The overwhelming heat vanished; silence dropped over me. I blinked, trying to make sense of the world around me. I was in a place I knew. The floor shone; the looming walls sparkled with windows. Everything was soft, painted in pearlescent shades: coral, sunrise, palest lavender.
The Citadel.The words came to me slowly.I am in the Citadel.
“Lady Mara!” A surprised voice floated to me from far away. “This is a surprise. We thought you were still up north.”
“And what good timing!” another voice said, this one bursting with excitement and coming closer. “Our team has found the goblet. Thegoblet, my lady. Another anchor! Where is Professor Fontaine? Has he—? Oh, gods. My lady— Someone help! We need help here!”
I became aware of a rush of sound: overlapping voices, footsteps hurrying toward me. Someone cried out in horror. Someone called for a healer.
“Her name is Lily,” I managed to say, my words thick and slurred. I presented Neave to the blurry world, my arms still locked around her. “Treat her wounds immediately.”
It took some doing for them to pry her away from me. Once they did, I lost all sense of the world and fell forward. My last thought was of Farrin in Mhorghast, thrusting that brilliant feather into the air, her brave voice ringing out into the darkness:Ankaret!
The image brought me comfort. I slid toward it into oblivion.
Chapter 31
When I woke, it was to soft darkness. I felt a light breeze against my skin. The bitter scent of medicine stung my nose. I tried to move my body, but I couldn’t feel it.
Panic drummed through me. Logic suggested that the scent of medicine meant I was being treated by a healer, that I couldn’t feel my body because I’d been given poppy’s tears to numb the pain.
But my own tears came anyway, slipping silently down my cheeks. My body was my greatest tool; not being able to move it or assess its damage made me feel like I was back in that writhing woodland, fleeing danger that I couldn’t stop to fight. Instead I had to run. Running, running, I had to keep running.
“Sleep,” came a small voice, followed by a slight press of warmth against my chest. When I glanced down, I saw a soft light shining at the hem of my quilt. It reminded me of fire, but it didn’t burn. A memory tickled the edge of my mind, but the poppy’s tears must have been potent, for I couldn’t grasp it. A heaviness pulled my eyelids closed.
I slept.
***
The next time I woke, pale morning light greeted me. The room was still quiet, but beyond its walls I could hear the soft bustle of activity: people talking in low voices, bodies moving and shifting. Footsteps. A dull clink of glass that evoked an image of the tidy jars in Nanette’s infirmary.
Thinking of Rosewarren made my panic return. How many days had it been since I’d left with Gareth for Falkeron? Too many. I had lost count. The Warden, I knew, must have been out of her mind with worry. She would be furious. The thought turned me cold.
Brigid. Cira. Nesset. Freyda. The littles. Names floated up from the abyss of my drugged mind like ashes disturbed by the wind.
Talan. Ryder.
Gemma. Farrin.
Wardwell.
