“So,” I said, softening, “how do we get out of this?”
He didn’t miss a beat before answering, and I was grateful he hadn’t belabored his point. “Do you see the tiny fibers on the shaft that angle toward me?” he said, motioning with the hand that wasn’t pinned under his side.
I looked down and nodded, noting the countless spurs that went in one direction like coarse fur dipped in silver that tapered to impossibly sharp tips.
“Whatever we do,” he said, “we have to move with, not against them. If we do, the tips will shift up and barb into our flesh, which will slowly release the toxin into our bloodstream.”
“Can’t we just snap it in half to separate us, then get help from a healer? At least then we won’t be at risk of the poison.”
“Unfortunately, no. If the shaft is severed or damaged in any way, the poison is instantly sucked into the tips and will flood our bodies within seconds, regardless of if they are fully barbed into us.”
I resisted the fierce shudder at the thought. Unsure if I wanted the answer, I forced myself to ask anyway. “What does the poison do?”
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Our bodies would convulse before we’d lose all ability to move. Once paralysis kicks in, our magic becomes inert, along with our healing abilities.” His words were so matter-of-fact that the shudder I’d just suppressed broke free, raking down my body.
“Gods above, who would make such a thing!?”
He hesitated, and I already regretted asking before he said, “The Autumn Court.”
The world stilled as I wrapped my mind around the implication, and I had to actively stop myself from pulling away from him. “They…” I stammered over my words. “They were fromyourcourt.” I stared at him with eyes wide, praying he’d contradict me.
His throat bobbed. And I knew before he said it. “They were from the Autumn Court, yes.”
I was powerless over the involuntary jerk my body made to get distance from him, both of us biting back a curse. Ignoring the fresh bolt of pain, I pushed forward, needing answers. “Underyourcommand, right?”
“Nyleeria, I di?—”
“Yes or no, Commander.”
He gave me a hard stare, then said, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just call them off?” My voice was full of accusation and betrayal, despite my efforts to stay calm.
“Nyleeria.” His voice was firm, but something other than commanding had me frozen in his gaze like a moth to a flame. “The Axelian Army is on standing orders to retrieve you. Whether I’m there or not, that order stands.Myorder stands. There are specialized mercenaries along the borders of all courts in case we’re able to get through, so when the wards went down…” he let the thought trail off. “I just killed good males who were following my orders, who I’ve known for centuries, to protect you, your location, and my anonymity. When I go back to the Autumn Court, I will have to personally visit each of their families and look them in the eyes as I give them my condolences for their deaths, knowing they were by my hand. So, had there been another option—any other option—the Stars know I would have chosen it.”
Like always with him, his declaration had me swimming in a vat of confused emotions, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find solid ground. “Why?” I finally whispered, trying for the hundredth time to reconcile him and his motives.
“I’ve already told you why,” he said, standing firm to the proclamation he’d made in the Autumn Court that he wouldn’t let history repeat itself—and I still wondered if that was enough to justify the extremes he seemed to go through. Why did he care so much more than his kin about what had happened in the past?
“I know you don’t believe me,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if he was right or not, “but right now that doesn’t matter—we have to take care of this first.” He gestured to the poisonous rod connecting us.
He was right. I wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline, mistrust, being fae, or even the poison that had dulled the pain enough to recklessly argue instead of getting the damn thing out. Either way, I nodded in agreement.
“We’ll need to sit up in unison so we don’t bend the shaft,” hestarted. “It’s likely that a small amount of poison has leached into our bodies, but not enough to produce symptoms. If that’s the case, then when we right ourselves, we’ll feel faint. Possibly nauseous. Do not pass out, and do not sway,” he warned.
“Anything else?” I asked in earnest, suddenly feeling nervous.
“We just have to make sure we keep the arrow at the same angle it went in at.”
I nodded.
“On the count of three?”
Steeling myself, I pushed away the fresh memory of the mercenary’s countdown for me to drink the dark liquid before nodding again.
“One.”
I swallowed and locked my gaze on his, my palms now balmy.
