Page 65 of The Fox Heir

I breathe a sigh of relief.

He stares at me, his warm brown eyes not fully focused. “Sienna …”

“Yes, it’s me.”

His eyes flutter closed again, and his grip on my arm loosens, but he’s no longer on death’s door. I can feel his heartbeat growing stronger, his breaths growing deeper. He’s unconscious, and I know it’s for the best. His body desperately needs rest.

My power slowly eases back into me, sliding up my arms and returning to my core. Just as freely as it erupted, it slumbers again. But this time, I can feel it waiting there. The hollow emptiness in my chest is gone. My power has returned.

I finally sit back on my heels in the wet, grainy sand. When I look up, everyone is staring at me, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe.

“We need to get him to a fire,” I say, back in healer mode. I need them to stop staring at me. Heat flushes my cheeks. “Someone, make a sling to carry him back to the castle. The rest of you, check the other bodies. Make sure there are no other survivors.”

Wordlessly, they nod, taking direction as if they needed it. Several of them watch me warily as they retreat. I bring my attention back to Hunter as I breathe a sigh of relief. That’s when I notice something odd. He’s wearing layers of wool, likely to keep the freezing ocean air at bay. But there’s an odd lump under his jacket, near his heart. I reach forward and unfasten the buttons. When I lift the fabric from his chest, I see a pocket sewn into the inside lining. I fish out the hard rectangle inside.

It’s a small thin book. But not just any book. It’s the one the librarian, Merle, gave to me the night before my father locked me in the rat-infested dungeon. The silver moth on the green cover shines in my hands.

The Silver Moth Society. How did Hunter find it?

I blink in wonder several times before the skin on the back of my neck begins to prickle. My eyes search the shoreline. They fall on the Wolf, standing a short distance away. Behind messy strands of dark hair, his gray eyes are filled with pride … and the unmistakable glint of jealousy.

Somewhere in the distance, a seagull laughs.

Part Three

The Heir

Chapter 22

Hunter sleeps for three days.

I rarely leave his side, riddled with guilt as I am. I sleep in the bed next to him, watching his breath, making sure it doesn’t hitch or stop altogether. Fever keeps returning, like Death’s insistent knocking. Every few hours I set my hands on Hunter’s chest, his cheek, his forehead. I touch him wherever the heat rises, threatening to pull him back under the waves that tried to claim him. I won’t let him die on my watch.

As he sleeps, I read and re-read the thin green book Hunter brought all the way from Caerwen for me: The Silver Moth Society. I’d set it as near to the fire as I dared, pages splayed to dry them as best I could. The book doesn’t close flat anymore, damaged from both salt and water, but most of it is still legible.

This book is proof that the underground Sympathizers in Caerwen exist. That Grandmother was their leader. That there are more of them somewhere, hidden behind the Fox Palace walls and within the city.

I flip open the green cover to read the first page for the hundredth time.

The Silver Moth Society

A treatise on the demands of the Llwyn people in favor of the permanent destruction of the Fox King and all future despotic rulers.

My fingers linger over the names written inside the front cover. Most are still legible, though blurred. A few washed away completely, but not the first name, the one that started this entire journey: Áine. My grandmother.

The door to Hunter’s room opens with a bang as it hits the wall.

“Enough.” The Wolf storms into the room and opens the thick, faded curtains. Sunlight streams in and I wince. “You can’t abandon all the progress we’ve made because the golden boy has shown up again.”

My skin prickles with irritation. “I’m not abandoning anything. He needs me.”

“To sleep? I don’t think so.” His jaw muscles visibly clench as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“If the fever returns⁠—”

“Then you can heal him again, after you’re finished with training for the day.”

As much as I hate it, I know he’s right. Hunter is out of danger, at least for now. He just needs rest. He’ll wake when he’s ready.