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Solyrian blinded Lunara when she materialized in the Great Hall, mid-afternoon sunlight pouring in to bathe the benches and tables.

Demons everywhere pounded their fists and shouted greetings when they saw her. Lifted their tankards. Clinked cutlery. Their high spirits were palpable, something different in the air since the day she expelled Night.

Brand probably tore through here before storming into Nachthelliae.

Ah. Of course. They had their Son back.

Well, insofar as he is no longer possessed by a primordial entity of unknown origins and was seen raging for the first time in months.

Good enough. The Demons needed that bolster. She only hoped Brand was able to pull himself together before it came full circle and his absence raised alarm bells.

“Thank the fucking sunstar.” Faldir was already reaching out to scoop an arm around her shoulder when she turned. He latched on and herded her towards the double doors, grumbling, “She’s in your shared chambers.”

Lunara misted them straight there.

The first thing that hit her was the smell.

Weeping shite.

The others didn’t seem to notice it at all, completely unbothered.

Regardless of how it came about, it was a bleeding miracle Fern was alive based only on that stench. Of course Araxis completely understated the situation.

“Thank the fucking sunstar.” Hedda pulled her into a tight embrace.

Lunara huffed. “Faldir said the exact, same thing.”

“Who’s surprised?” he asked, looking around. “Ah, that’s right. Fucking no one. She’s in the bed.”

Fern’s dull and matted curls were all she saw, fanning out and clinging to her pillow. Lunara peeled the pile of linens away and⁠—

Pet was there, curled up against Fern’s back, the mass of blankets doing their best to bury them both alive.

Well, then.

“Faldir, open the windows.” She used her power to lift and condense the odorous sheets and down comforters, drawing from the well to contain all the filth therein. “Hedda, see these burned.”

Both Pet and Fern whimpered when a cool breeze wafted over their uncovered bodies—his in protest, hers in pain.

“Hello, Pet,” she crooned. “Please move.”

The gigantic wolf did as he was told, his golden eyes darting between her and Fern as he shimmied away to give Lunara room. What he exposed, though, chilled her to the bone.

She’d been a terrible friend, forgetting Fern’s injury and leaving her to suffer. Blinded by her reunion with Brand, it completely fell out of her head until Araxis made his appearance less than an hour ago.

He wasn’t joking about Fern’s coloring. Her skin was flirting with being as green as her wings. But the purple streaks across her shoulder and down her back, the red and swollen flesh beneath, was the real worry. Lunara ghosted her touch over the inflamed area, sending the threads of her power deeper, and Fern’s organs cried out in protest.

Shite, the blood in her veins was thick with disease.

Oh, lucky you. It’s basically melting her insides.

Wonderful.

Thank the Sisters, their moons, and the bright, burning sunstar that she partook of a blood gift from Brand right before this—even if it was of the more shocking variety.

“I changed my mind,” Lunara said. “Faldir, you handle the blankets. Hedda, I need your help. Do you mind being my anchor again?”

They shared a look, both of them obviously thinking of the last time they’d been here—and that Nyri had been with them.