Page 83

I chuckled. “I’m learning Gaina does not like to take credit for her actions.”

Kage offered up a weary smile. “No, she does not.”

“You well, boy?” Gaina stroked some of his hair off his brow, a look of true affection written on her smoothface. “Speak true.”

“I’m all right, Gaina. Had some help chasing off the beasts.”

Cy nudged my side and winked. “I’d like to know what happened. Immorti rarely attack in droves.”

“It was a damn army,” I murmured and accepted some of the chopped fern leaves he handed me on a clean linen. “What are they?”

“Manipulations. Twisted dark magic. They are creatures born from spells that manipulate the natural order of life and death. They feed on the magic in the blood.” Asger meticulously braided threads of onion roots Gaina had added to the pile.

“I felt it,” I said through a shudder. “I got weaker around them.”

“All the Immorti know to do is fill their craving for more magic by feeding on it,” Asger told me.

“Dangerous, but stupid.” Cy tapped the dull edge of the chopping knife to the side of his head. “They are not pack creatures. Oftentimes, they will attempt to feed on each other. Not exactly efficient.”

My stomach burned in unease. If the Immorti did not attack together, then why did they seem utterly determined to take Kage?

“The other realms don’t worry over them?” I asked. “With creatures like those, I’d imagine most magical realms would have something to say.”

Asger smirked. “Destin does well at assuring the kings and queens of other lands Immorti only feast on mage blood. Must be sweeter than the gamey taste of wolves or evil of the demon folk.”

A few chuckles followed, but Cy nudged my shoulder. “No worries, Cricket. Each realm has their own troubles. We guard up against theirs, and they guard against ours. There are better reasons to go to war than a few soulless mage feeders.”

Like a wicked degeneration that causes their magic to go dark. I shuddered and pushed the thought away.

“Ready for more.” Gwyn called from the fire, stirring a pungent liquid in a kettle—earthy, like damp soil.

Cy and Asger took the time to explain why they prepared ingredients the way they did while Gaina forced Kage to sip fresh water. There was such an intricate balance, almost beautiful, that went in to preparing every spell and potion. Asger braided the roots so whenthey boiled, a small seed called starpetal wove around them as they were stirred, squeezing out any fluids in the roots, and extracting the undiluted oils.

Faeryworm boiled until the bulbs on the sides burst and created a paste that would soak into the edges of Kage’s wounds, cauterizing them in a way to keep infection out and the healing herbs in.

I could not help but watch with fascination, battering them with question after question. Even Asger grinned by the time Kage had clean wraps around his ribs and throat and smelled a great deal like he’d bathed in spearmint and chives.

Rain beat against the windows by the time we finished. Though he’d done nothing much more than rest and mutter curses that he did not need to be mollycoddled, Kage slept soundly with a more tepid temperature to his skin.

“Eat, my little sprouts.” Gaina clapped her palms together, summoning us to the small table near the washbasin.

My insides groaned and tightened. Through the angst of the night, and treating the most stubborn of patients all day, I’d not realized food and meals had become a forgotten notion.

Cubed bits of a russet sort of potato bobbed about in a dark broth with spices and chunks of pink meat. The old woman placed a loaf of brown bread in the center of the table, chuckling when Asger and Gwyn both ripped off the heels at the same time.

Cy peered into the room with the king and queen before taking the chair at my side. “Still strange to see them in such a state.”

“You remember them?” I asked, peering over my shoulder.

“King Markus and Queen Torie?” Cy nodded through a bite of stew. “Oh, yes. I was practically raised in the palace.”

“That you recall.” Asger jabbed a bit of his bread at his friend.

“I’ll keep the memories I have, darling,” Cy said. “In them, Markus took the time to teach me—a mere stable boy—how to use a bow. Torie helped me unlock my proclivity to connect with creatures. I found Hakon as a lost soul, you see, Cricket. The queen helped us bond.”

I took a bite of the stew. The meat was chewy, but tasted like a savory pot roast. When a groan slid out, Cy laughed.

“They sound like kind people,” I said.