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“Your mother?” she gasped. Iryana knew his father had sent her to one of the settlements, separated her from the children so she couldn’t soften them with weak-minded ideas like love and compassion for others. “Have you reached out?”

“No. I’m too ashamed.” He ducked his head. “I don’t want to tell her what happened with Karvek, what he became. What he did. That I helped kill him. How do you tell your mother you helped kill her son?”

Iryana wrapped her arms around him, fighting off the tiredness. “It would hurt her, but she’d have you back in her life.”

“She’d see what I’ve become too, and I’m nothing like the boy she knew anymore. I don’t even think she’d recognize me.” He tapped his chest where his heart was. “I’m ashamed for her to see that.”

“How could your mother ever be ashamed of you?” Iryana wanted to cry for him. “You’re a good man, an amazing man. Take your time to figure it out, okay? To get used to the idea.”

“I just feel like she’d be happier thinking of us like when we were kids. Remembering me like that.”

“I understand,” Iryana mumbled, her words slurring slightly from how tired she was. “I’ve thought about whether I should try to find my mom. But I couldn’t imagine having to face her again, what I would say to the woman who abandoned me and my sisters. But your mom didn’t choose to leave you, she must miss you terribly.”

Pyetar tucked her into his side, and they held each other. The water gently lapped against them, and the warmth permeated her skin, relaxing her muscles. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in a very long time. It felt so good. She just wanted to close her eyes and slide under the water.

Iryana blinked slowly, noticing the steam was making the room look like it was spinning. And she was so drained. It almost felt like Pyetar was holding her up, and without him she’d slip into the water. But it was so nice. The pain was entirely gone. The soreness in her muscles was gone.

“Your skin is getting red, you probably need to get out,” Pyetar said lazily a while later.

Iryana looked down and narrowed her bleary eyes. She lifted her knee out of the water, looking closer.

“This is a rash, actually,” she mumbled.

Her skin was red and irritated, but patches were turning a darkening blue-green color. Like bruises just starting to heal. When she poked one, it didn’t hurt. She didn’t feel it at all. Iryana slipped her leg back into the water, her head lolling back against Pyetar. She felt so good.

Then it clicked.

“Get out of the water,” she slurred, splashing as her arms flailed.

Pyetar turned as she scrambled out of his arms, trying to pull herself over the side. He lifted her onto the ledge of the pool, and she rolled, bare legs slapping against the stone ground, sending water splashing around her.

“What’s wrong?” He sounded awake now, urgent.

The water splashed as he climbed out next to her.

“There’s something wrong with it,” she panted. Her body listed to the side as she tried to stand. She was dizzy. That was not good. She scanned Pyetar, his reddening skin, the same bruise-like rash forming. “Our skin is reacting. I feel dizzy. I—something is wrong with the water.”

“I tasted it, it just tasted normal,” Pyetar said, wide-eyed. There were occasionally dangerous toxins and chemicals in hot springs, but they didn’t make marks like the ones on their skin. “What do we do?”

It took longer than it should have to figure that out—her mind was too sluggish—more time for the poisonous water to seep into her skin.

“Start a fire,” Iryana ordered Pyetar, slurring. “Don’t touch your clothes.”

She fumbled around in their bags, pulling out their cooking pot. Standing, stumbling, Iryana headed for the mouth of the cave.

“Iryana!” Pyetar called after her.

“Start the fire!” She didn’t need him coming after her. They had to move quickly.

The air grew colder with every step, and her wet, naked skin pebbled. It took all her focus to make it to where the snow tumbled into the cave without falling on her face. She filled the bucket with snow and hurried back into the warmer air. Pyetar had a small fire built, leaning down to blow on the growing embers. She stumbled but caught herself, looking between the fire to the bucket of snow. Did they have time to melt it first?

Putting the bucket down, Iryana scooped up a handful of snow and started scrubbing it over her body. The cold was painful against her skin, but she needed to get the water off. With the fire roaring, Pyetar took over, scrubbing all the areas she couldn’t reach as Iryana wiggled her stiff limbs.

Once they were both scrubbed down and wrapped in their underlayers, Iryana dug around in her bag again, searching through the small jars Hadima had sent her with.

“No. No. No…” she dismissed them one by one until she found the one that she wanted. “Antitoxins are specific to the poison, but this should help our bodies work it out of our system. It’s imbued.”

Iryana dumped half of the powder into Pyetar’s hand and then knocked the rest back into her mouth. It tasted awful, but she rinsed it down with water.