Karston rushes to Noranna’s side at once. The scream that tears from his throat when he sees her face is so full of anguish that he sounds more like a Shade than a human. No, worse—like a Shade that’s been set on fire and knows the end is near.
The littlest Wylding girl, Ruthie, sobs as she tugs on her middle sister’s skirt, then her brother’s arm, unable to get a response from either of them. Abandoning her seat, she rushes to Valoria’s side, gasping terrified breaths.
But just like her other two siblings, Valoria is past the point of comforting Ruthie. I can’t even tell from here if my friend is still breathing.
A few seats down from Valoria, Baroness Shealea slumps in her chair, the white flower now missing from her dark hair, her arms around two smaller figures beside her. None of them move. All are too pale. I hope Shealea’s spirit finds the children’s in the Deadlands so they can continue to comfort each other in the next life. Nearby, Baroness Katerina liesequally still and silent, her forehead touching the table. Her white cat won’t stop nuzzling her cheek, not understanding that her owner, pale in life but now paler than the moon, will never respond again.
I turn my head to the side, stricken with a sudden urge to heave up the meager contents of my stomach into the cold grass. Twice. Three times. In between, I glance skyward. The stars sure are bright tonight. They twinkle sweetly, like thousands of grains of scattered sugar, like they don’t understand what they’re witnessing in the slightest.
As I wipe my mouth, Danial leaps to his feet and rushes to aid someone else.
I glance down at Meredy as I take her in my arms again, scrutinizing her face. She’s breathing, a little wheezily, but sounding no worse than if she were getting over a cold.
Wearily, she rests her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes. “I love you, too,” she mumbles, drawing another heavy breath. As I hold her, I study the lantern light reflecting off her hair, unable to look at her anymore.
She probably thinks you’re Firiel.She doesn’t know what she’s saying.
Shaking my head to chase away the thought, I force myself to gaze through the tables. The few other healers among the partygoers are still busy assisting Danial in healing whomever they can. Good thing, too, as Danial himself seems unable to walk anymore. He rests on an empty chair, looking as though the sheer effort of sitting up is almost too much for him.
Simeon drags a figure through the grass, headed toward Danial. It’s Valoria, her crown missing, her chin slick with white foam. There’s no color left in her face.
I sob harder, holding more tightly to Meredy as she stirs weakly in my arms.
Valoria is dead. The whole world is falling apart, and I can’t do adamn thing about it. Raising the dead is forbidden now. I can’t bring back anyone here, not even Valoria, thanks to her new law. And for good reason. I remember all too well how easily the Dead can become Shades, and how a single one of those monsters can cause waves of death in the space of a few heartbeats. Still, I hate knowing I have the power to ease a little of the hurt that this tragedy will bring to so many families, yet not being able to use it.
I could.
But I shouldn’t.
I can’t. I have to honor the law. The Dead belong in their world, the living in ours.
I hate this.
When Danial sees Valoria’s body, he shakes his head sadly. “Bring me someone I can actually help,” he tells Simeon, his voice breaking over the words.
Simeon nods, biting his lip, and embraces Valoria as her hair slowly changes from blond to a deep brown before my blurry gaze.
“Sarika isgone, Si,” Danial croaks. “You have to let her go.”
Baffled, I blink away tears and look closer at Valoria’s body to see that Danial is right. Sarika must have been wearing Valoria’s face all evening. It’s her we’ve lost, and I can’t help but feel the briefest surge of relief, followed by a stab of pain for Sarika, a girl whom I’d also come to call a friend. The garden shimmers beneath my gaze as I try to take a breath.
As Elibeth hurries toward me, I reluctantly give Meredy over to her care. I need to help Simeon find those who are fighting the poison long enough to be healed.
“Where’s Valoria?” I demand as Simeon and I kneel near several fallen forms in the grass to check for a pulse. I’m afraid that wherever she is, she might have eaten the poisoned boar, too.
“She couldn’t make it,” Simeon says hollowly. “She’s at the temple with Azelie. She said it was urgent, but she promised to make it up to us later. She sent Sarika in her place so it wouldn’t look suspicious that she was away from the palace on ‘such an important occasion,’ as she put it.”
Someone cries out—Elibeth—as Danial falls to his knees, exhausted already from using so much of his magic. Simeon stumbles toward him, tripping over something in the grass in his haste to help his husband despite feeling sick himself.
I grip the back of a nearby chair to stay standing, gazing around at everyone we’ve lost.
There’s Sarika, still bravely wearing Valoria’s face, though her hair has returned to its natural brown.
Bryn, who died while comforting Valoria’s middle sister during her last moments. From a distance, both of them could be sleeping, but neither is.
Noranna, the brilliant inventor who tried so hard to help us form defenses for Karthia, whose body Karston clings to as he makes a constant low, moaning sound.
Valoria’s brother, the boy with the nice laugh, next in line for the throne.
