As the thought came to me, a pulse of energy filled the air. The hand in mine grew sweaty, and Calix panted.
The boy’s lapse caught my attention, and I squeezed his hand. “Where is he?”
Calix trembled. The current of magic ebbed and flowed around us as we followed the crimson path through the kitchen that led to the steps. Splattering droplets and smears where a boot had dragged marked the way.
I managed a brisk inhale and ascended the stairs, keeping Calix’s hand in mine. His grip was slack now, as his small body fought itself.Was it Neirin’s blood that affected him in this way?
At the top of the steps, I stilled.
Maerel sat atop a chaise at the end of the hall, her eyes brimming and her hand cupped to her mouth. The healer in me recognized the signs of shock instantly, and I turned my gaze from her to Calix, the weight of my responsibility settling over me.
Leading Calix to the chaise, I instructed him to sit. Time was running out, and the awareness of it stole across my skin like the breath of death itself. Digging through my bag, I withdrew a vile of dwale.
“Drink.” I pressed it to Calix, whose eyes still flickered. If Maerel noticed, she made no indication of it.
Turning to her, I braced my hands on her shoulders. “Can I trust you?”
The woman blinked and met my gaze. There was no way to know if she would run to the garrison or if she would otherwise betray the situation. But there was nothing that could be done for it, and time was slipping away. She nodded.
“This is not the time to succumb to shock,” I told her. “You are stronger than that. We must be stronger than that.”
A clarity came over her, and as she firmed her features and nodded again, she took my hand and stood. Wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, she sucked in a breath. Was it only seeing death that brought such emotion for her, or did the innkeeper care for Neirin?
“You need to clean the kitchen,” I told her. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she rasped, and brushed past me.
I set my eyes to Calix. He was already yawning as the anesthetic began to take effect.
“Rest,” I told the boy, though it was an unnecessary order. He would be unconscious in minutes and sleep deeply through the night.
Drawing a steadying breath, I left the chaise and paced to a solid oak door, the smeared red of a handprint just abovethe knob. The emotions coursing through the bond were now tangible, physical things, like thick smoke choking out the air or like drowning in the sea. I gripped the handle and turned.
The tang of iron hit me as I stepped into the room. I closed the door quickly behind me, my concerns briefly flitting to Calix and the problems that could arise should the tincture I gave him not be strong enough, should he lose control.
My eyes went to the bed, empty and stained, and again fear threatened to hold me in place.
A snarl from the corner of the room sent a shudder down my spine. I whipped around. The rumble was inhuman.
A trembling breath left my lips as I met the silver eyes of a creature. The figure was curled in the shadows, its teeth pointed and bared. When the warning sound came again, I slowly lowered to my knees.
The fox’s ears perked, and its black nose raised, scenting the air.
“It’s okay.” My tone was gentle, though my heart pounded in my chest.
Cautiously, I shifted forward. This time, the animal gave no defensive reaction. His gaze fell watchful on me, though the lids of his eyes fluttered as if they were too heavy to keep open. With a whimper, his head wavered. Reservations cast aside, I rushed to the animal, catching his head in my lap as he fainted.
I stared down at the silver fox. My hands hovered above his pelt, and in the dim light, I noted the labored rise and fall of his flank.
Whatever I’d been expecting of Neirin’s other form, this wasn’t it. The animal was nearly double the size of any fox I’d seen before. This was a creature that could kill, one that could rip a man’s throat out with its teeth. But Neirin wouldn’t hurt me, and neither would his fox. Not with the connection we shared.
With the fox’s head in my lap, I lay an arm across him and ran my fingers through his thick double coat. The outer layer was coarse, but beneath that, his fur was silken and soft.With my other hand, I traced between the ridge of his brows and down his pointed snout, stopping just before his black beaded nose. The creature was remarkable, fierce, stunning, his coat silver and mottled like a full moon, with areas of darker gray and black tipping at his ears, paws, and muzzle.
And he was dying.
Sucking in my bottom lip, I set my eyes to the sack of medical supplies I’d dropped across the room.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said to the unconscious creature, more as a reassurance to myself than anything else. I needed to push my emotions aside and examine the wound.Carefully, I lowered the fox’s head to the floor and retrieved the bag.
