Someone, a woman, wascalling his name—all his names in turn, and she sounded terrified. Devil scrambled to his feet and listened again, then breathed, “Aliena…”
I was immediately behind him as he leapt to his feet. Once we made it around the oak tree, he spread his wings and looked back at me.
“Go!” I cried. He did not wait for another command, but took a running leap and soared ahead, dipping between the tree trunks and vanishing. Too agitated and terrified to travel by magyk, I ran, not slowing my pace until I reached Aliena’s cottage. When I saw Simeon standing beside Devil, however, I skidded to a halt. Aliena, hands covering her mouth, heard me arrive and turned.
“There she is!”
“Thank the gods,” Simeon breathed, putting out his hand. “Please, my lady, there’s been an attack. Your gift is desperately needed.”
Simeon strode forward and seized my wrist without waiting for my reply. I barely had time to think before reaching for Devil, pulling him along with us as we traveled through the Arden. When we arrived, I saw Oberon first. He stood at the edge of a vast stretch of Rot, the lines on his face deepened by fear and consternation. Behind him, someone was hunched over on the forest floor.
“Antenor…” I whispered, stumbling forward with my hand outstretched. Oberon stopped me before I could touch my cousin, however, and pointed.
“Careful. Look.”
Antenor’s great wings were splayed out on either side of him, and I had to fight back a strangled cry when I saw the splotchy tendrils of darkness.
The Rot.
Its sheen was unmistakable, as was the way it crept through his veins, inching along each wing’s membrane toward his shoulders. He was injured too—large, bloody cuts covering his arms and upper back, every muscle in his body spasming in pain as he tried to fight against the sickness slowly overtaking him.
“If it reaches his heart…” Oberon said. He did not need to finish the sentence.
“Antenor!” I barked, dropping to my knees beside him. “You must stay still! Do you hear me?”
He only snarled and curled tighter into a ball, fingers laced through his own hair.
“Hold him down,” Oberon said to Devil, kneeling beside me and conjuring up a net of shadows, while Devil made one of golden light. They covered him in their magyk, tightening the bonds around his stiff body. I fell to the ground beside one of his wings and carefully placed my hands close to the joint, where the Rot had not spread yet. Shaking violently, I closed my eyes and threaded my healing magyk beneath his skin.
But the Rot was not going to give up its victim, and I was slammed violently backwards. No matter what I poured into him, I could not find a weak point in the roiling ball of anger and grief and hatred. In fact, the harder I tried, the more viciously it seemed to fight. Tears streamed down my face as I threw my magyk at it again and again, for how long, I did not know.
“It’s no use!” Simeon finally cried. “We must leave, in case it changes him.”
I stood to shed my moth cloak, then stepped away from Antenor and beckoned to Oberon.
“There is another way we might save him,” I whispered, rolling up the long sleeves of my shirt.
“Whatever it is, do it,” the faerie king replied, “and quickly.”
“We’ll need a blade…a sharp one…”
Oberon’s eyes widened as he realized what I was suggesting, but Antenor somehow heard me too. He surged to his knees, falling backwards and scrambling away.
“No! No, you cannot do that!”
As I turned to try and calm him, I was horrified to see that his entire face had been mauled too. He was nearly unrecognizable from the man I had seen just that morning. One of his eyes was slashed and swollen shut, his mouth twisted and bloodied, chunks taken from his nose and an ear. The damage extended down to his chest too, and the grass around him was soaked in blood.
“Antenor,” I begged, kneeling in front of him again. “Please, I can saveyou…”
His good eye was wild with panic as he roared, “I would rather die! Oberon, please!”
“I am sorry,” Oberon whispered, even though he appeared conflicted. Without warning, dozens of shadowy ropes burst from his hands and curled around Antenor’s thrashing body.
“No! Please, Oberon! He’ll kill me!He’ll kill me!I’ll be nothing! Less than nothing! Please, I beg you! Let me go! Let me die by my own hand!Please!” He continued to scream as the shadows bound him, holding him on his stomach and pinning his infected wings to the forest floor. My chest heaved with emotion and terror, mind scattered and unfocused. His desperation nearly broke me, but I met Devil’s eyes and he gave a sobering nod, then conjured up a scythe made of pure light.
“Will this do?”
I could only nod.
