Page 25 of Wraithwound

Lena pushed up from the chair, securing her cloak.

Nora’s gaze stilled on the emerald sitting proudly on the clasp of her cloak.

“We are offering you an opportunity to contribute, Lena. Like your mother did. Like Henry did,” Nora said, a look of challenge setting her features.

At the mention of her brother’s name, Lena’s restraint snapped. It had dawned on her that the Healer’s Organization had suspected the reason for the attacks on the smaller villages, and yet, they did nothing to warn them before Neema died. If they had, it was possible the residents would still be alive. Henry would still be alive.

“Don’t you dare talk about Henry!” Lena shouted.

The others in the room shot out of their seats. Benneck stepped in front of Nora, knocking the small wooden table with his knees and sending the glass of water toppling over.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” he said, raising his hands in front of him.

“You’ve gone too far, Nora,” Suhalia chided.

But Ahgrie was already moving, grabbing Lena’s forearm as she pulled her towards the door. Lena’s legs felt leaden, but she willed them to move, to carry her far from here.

“You will only have yourself to blame when you end up hurting—” Nora started to say, but Lena blocked it out.

She pushed herself to move faster, nearly running down the stairs. Exiting the tavern was nothing more than a blur of lights and sound. She blinked and realized she was already outside, following Ahgrie away from the tavern. The crisp air bit at the exposed skin of her face. She relished it, sucking the chill night air deep into her lungs. Ahgrie’s eyes darted around, inspecting the empty streets. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she spoke.

“You have to believe me when I say I had no way of knowing they would ask that of you.”

“I know, Ahgrie,” Lena said, letting out a shuddering breath. She hadn’t felt anger in so long. After her mother disappeared, her emotions had slowly slipped into a muted echo of what they’d once been. It was almost exhilarating, like catching a glimpse of the person she used to be in a mirror.

“I’m so sorry, Lena. I didn’t know Neema was so ill. Her death has changed everything, and Nora…” Ahgrie took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Orvain is known for withholding information, so I decided to skip him and head straight for his files.”

“You went through his files?” Lena asked, eyes wide, but Ahgrie waved her off.

“They are in search of a plant they believe might cure the infection, or at least delay, or maybe stunt its growth. I hoped to ask the Org about it— now I see how foolish that was. I’m not sure who found it or how it works. Here.” Ahgrie handed Lena a piece of parchment with an unrefined sketch of the plant. “There is something out there Lena, something that could help you, if you find it in time.”

Lena swallowed the lump in her throat. It was a gift, the information Ahgrie was giving her, had risked her life to give her. It was a reason to keep fighting. For Henry. She would not waste it.

“Thank you,” she breathed. The relief of knowing her trip to Enora had yielded something to go off of suddenly left her feeling exhausted, but Ahgrie brushed that off too.

“Go see Ada. She and Eduard know more about rare plants than even the Org does. You do have your mother’s diary, right?” she asked, searching Lena’s face. Having found the answer there, she said, “Good. There’s a reason Marisee kept it away from the Org. Ask them about that, too.” She stopped walking then and readjusted her glasses before pinning Lena with a look. “Lena, only go if you’re sure it will be safe. For all of you.”

Lena nodded, knowing Ahgrie was concerned for Ada and Eduard’s safety because Nora hadn’t been wrong in her assessment of Lena’s actions. The fact that Lena had resisted the infection this long was unheard of as far as she knew.

Ahgrie led Lena through the empty streets, making sure to keep to the shadows. Lena kept pace, knowing that since the festival goers were likely at the square, two women walking through the darkened streets would be deemed suspicious to any patrolling the area.

A roar of cheer erupted from nearby, startling Lena who froze in the center of two intersecting streets. She looked between the rows of buildings to see the silhouettes of two winged creatures in the sky, making their ascent towards the moon. Lena pulled her hood off to get a better look, mesmerized at the sight before her when a long, sorrowful note pierced the newly fallen silence.

Someone was playing the Ballad of the Maiden. Against the backdrop of the violin, the creatures seemed ominous somehow. She’d only heard the song a few times, and while it hadn’t ever piqued her interest, in this moment, the music called to her, spoke to her soul, like the memory of a joyful day too soon forgotten.

She must have stood there staring for longer than she’d thought because, not a moment later, she was swept into a crowd of bodies. Lena tried to push against the current, spotting Ahgrie on the other side of the road. She couldn’t recall when Ahgrie had gained so much distance from her.

“Lena!” Ahgrie shouted, arm outstretched.

But her shout was swallowed by the noise of the crowd. Lena tried pushing her way back to Ahgrie with little success, her muscles heavy and slow. Her only choices were either to turn and move with the mass or risk falling and being trampled by it.

By the time the mass thinned, she was in a part of the city she didn’t recognize. The streets were dark and littered with rotting garbage, the small buildings huddled closely together as if they too sought comfort from the dark.

The skin of her shoulder began to prickle, and she became aware of her mistake. She didn’t belong here; that would be glaringly obvious to anyone looking for information to sell. She had to get back to one of the main thoroughfares. The thought was forming slowly in her mind when she was grabbed from behind and shoved into an alley. The world spun as her assailant turned and slammed her into a wall.

Covering her mouth with his palm, he leaned in close to reveal a pale face with cruel eyes and the twist of a sneer on his lips.

“I knew it was you the minute you pulled down your hood⁠—”