Her trembling lips edge into a weak smile. ‘Good. It’s time.’
I smile back at her. But her lips droop. Her eyes harden.
Too soon, you fool.
‘We still need to talk,’ she says. ‘But…’ Her eyes lift to the cave again. ‘Shelter first.’
I point out the cavern to the cragstalker. It pauses mid-stride, then veers upwards through the pine trees, following the direction of my finger. They, like the sylvanmares, seem to have retained an ability to understand the Mystic Tongue.
The cave is a decent size and dry, though not deep enough for my liking. Still, mustn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. We’re semi-concealed by its gloom and night will fast steal over the mountains. Boulders of various sizes litter the floor. Should the guards stop to check these caves, we can hide behind them. We might just evade capture.
We huddle together in silence, Briar and the cragstalkers guarding the entrance. Leilani’s decision to remain next to me warms me more than her actual body heat. Her gaze is fixed on the mouth of the cave, her breaths coming too fast. I consider taking her hand, but then remember her wilting smile.
Too soon.
I need to explain first, make her understand that I’ve changed. That everything has changed.
My ears strain, trying to catch the blare of the horns. They’re louder now – closer. Seconds stretch as we wait. Every shuffle as Briar, Serafine, and the cragstalkers reposition themselves, every hack of a throat burning from the tainted mountain air, is magnified, echoing off the roof of the cave. Blayze starts to hum. I glare at him. Doesn’t he know we need to stay quiet? But then remember how I found him in that dungeon – a broken man, bent and shaking. He’d been humming then too, rocking back and forth. He’s lived a lifetime underground, but the Arx Magnum inflicted horrors on all the Outrealmers in those filthy cells. Whatever was done to the Clanschief has clearly left scars. Deeper than just the physical ones.
A horn sounds. Very close this time. And there, if I prick my ears… yes, the clip of hooves.
Without thinking, I do take Leilani’s hand. I expect her to resist, to move away. But slender fingers clutch mine. And though it’s my hand she’s squeezing, something in my chest seems to bruise.
Maybe convincing her to trust me will be easier than I thought.
We all go very still. I start to count. One… Two… Twenty… A hundred. The horns sound again, but quieter this time. They’ve passed us. I release a breath – level, slow. Leilani drops my hand, scuttles away.
Not that easy then.
She crosses to the cragstalkers, starts scrabbling in the saddlebags. ‘Where is it?’
I come beside her, searching for the smaller pack where I stored the tincture. ‘It’s here, along with that box you’ve been carrying since the palace.’
Her hands still.
I’ve seen her palm the silver box at night when she thought no one was watching. Just as she tugs at that piece of ribbon in her hair. I assume it’s something she’s carrying for good luck, as I carry my mother’s ring. Hoped my saving it would go some way to earning back her forgiveness. My fingers close around said box, and I inch them deeper inside the pack. There, wrapped in a thick fur to keep it safe, the crystal vial containing the tincture. I draw it out, hand it to Leilani.
She returns to the circle. ‘It’s time we take this,’ she says, tapping a nail against the vial. ‘One swallow each. It should be enough.’ There’s an undeniable quaver in her voice.
Izarius better have got his calculations right.
‘I saved the starfruit too. The whole stash from Lulana,’ I say, trying to add a note of brightness to my voice. ‘Let’s each have a bit. It’ll see us through to tomorrow.’
I fish a parcel from one of the larger packs, passing a piece to Briar first, then Delphine. All of us are struggling, but they’re the worst affected. They took the brunt of the Arx Magnum’s fury. The snap of my whip bloodying Briar’s flesh echoes my mind. I shudder. Force the memories down.
‘Thank you,’ Blayze says, as I pass him his portion. I’m about to give out the next piece, when he places his free hand atop mine. The scars flecking it flash silver in the dim glow Serafine’s feathers radiate. As usual, the emberwing is perched on his shoulder. ‘I mean it, Peacock,’ he whispers, low enough that only I can hear. ‘I owe you a debt.’
His skin burns hot. There’s a strange weight behind his words. But before I can think of a response, there’s a pop as Leilani unstoppers the vial and Blayze releases my hand.
The air shimmers – Orthriel materialising for this. Leilani holds the bottle close to her Guardian. Orthriel’s assumed form flickers, wispier than ever, as they incline their head, murmuring over it. I can’t make out the whistling words, but as Orthriel chants in Airsong, a lustre rises from the bottle, coiling like iridescent smoke, pluming towards their chest. Orthriel gasps as the shimmering miasma curls around their heartcrystal.
Leilani hurriedly spills a measure of the precious liquid into her mouth. She swallows, shudders slightly, passes the bottle to me. I raise the vial to my lips, suppressing the thought that they’re pressed to where hers have been. Memories spark unbidden of our kiss at Thawtide – that brief, bright moment of pleasure, of rightness, of stillness, before starshine shunted me across the ballroom, and a wave of crushing shame crashed over me.
I tip the vial, swallowing those memories along with the tincture. It’s ice-cold and strangely thick on my tongue. As I hand the vial to Maris, I notice Leilani’s hands are shimmering. At first, I think it’s starshine and recoil, remembering the force, the chill, as that strange light struck me. As it stunned the hoarclaw. But, looking closer, I realise it’s not starshine, just the natural lustre of Leilani’s skin. Till now, it’s always been dimmed, but she’s sparkling now, thanks to the tincture. Orthriel’s burning brighter too; their simulation of a body coagulated once more.
The tincture is working.
I take a breath, realise I can breathe freely. My lungs no longer ache. For the first time since we left Galtair, my muscles loosen.
