Page 27

K ian

I sit next to McColl’s bed, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and try not to think about how small and fragile she looks beneath the covers.

Worry eats at me.

Her lips are dry and cracked despite my efforts to keep them moist. I dip a clean cloth in the bowl of water beside me and carefully squeeze a few drops between her parted lips, tilting her head slightly to help her swallow. She does, the reflex still there even in unconsciousness, but it’s weak.

Too weak.

“Come on, McColl,” I murmur, setting the cloth aside. “You need to fight…please.”

She’s so pale that her skin is almost translucent, dark circles shadowing her closed eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was—

No. I won’t even think it.

I refuse.

The healer checked her out before leaving but couldn’t find anything wrong. I was told it was exhaustion, but it’s been two days. Two long days. Surely, if McColl was simply exhausted, she would have woken up by now?

There has to be something more. I wish I knew. I wish I could do something…anything.

A soft knock at the door interrupts my brooding. “Come in,” I call, expecting Kyrie with another bowl of broth or Maya wanting to check on the woman who saved her life.

Instead, Thesha steps through the doorway, and I can’t hide my surprise. The warrior woman has avoided this cabin since McColl collapsed. Then again, I haven’t seen her or Xander on the few occasions I’ve left this room. Not that it’s been often.

Thesha closes the door behind her. Her clothes are dusty, and her brow is sweaty. Strands of dark hair have fallen from her braid that, for once, isn’t all that tight. Perhaps she and Xander continued with their duties and went to plow the field.

“Oh…it’s you.” I put down the water bowl and study her face. She looks tense; her jaw is tight. “What brings you here, Thesha?”

She shifts awkwardly, not quite meeting my eyes.

“Xander and I have been foraging in the deeper woods since yesterday. We’ve found something that might help.

” She holds up a small vial filled with dark liquid.

“It’s moonwort tincture. My mother taught me about it years ago.

” She swallows thickly. “It can help her.” She looks down at McColl.

“It builds energy. It’s healing. Perhaps it can even wake her up. ”

My chest tightens with an emotion I can’t quite name. This is the same woman who pulled a sword when McColl was trying to save Maya, who has done nothing but question her presence here. And now…

“Are you—?” I start to say, but she cuts me off with a sharp gesture.

“It will help her. I promise you. I mean McColl no harm. I want to help her.” She looks down at her muddy boots.

I realize that she thinks I can’t trust her. That she’s handed me poison instead of medicine, and it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I know you do, and thank you. I will try it. How long did you have to forage for this?” I smile.

“Don’t read too much into it,” she says gruffly, but there’s a flush creeping up her neck.

“Your friend pushed hard to save Maya and the baby. It was clear that it was at her own expense. I had to do something.” She pauses, struggling with the words.

“I am grateful for all she has done. And yes, I guess I feel a little guilty about how I treated her…but…you can’t blame me.

Here…” She holds out the vial, and I take it carefully, feeling the slight warmth of the glass against my palm.

“How much should I give her?”

“A few drops on her tongue every hour until she wakes. No more than that – moonwort can be dangerous in large doses.” Thesha finally meets my eyes, and I see the guilt there and worry, too.

“Thank you.” I keep my voice gentle. “It means more than you know.”

Thesha nods once, sharp and decisive, then turns to leave. At the doorway, she pauses without looking back. “Tell her…tell her I said thank you…when she wakes up.”

When, not if. It’s a small thing, but it gives me hope.

“You tell her yourself,” I yell as the door clicks shut.

I hold up the vial to the light; it is dark and even slightly thick. Then I open it, sniffing and wrinkling my nose. It smells bitter, with an earthy smell that reminds me of deep forest loam.

I carefully measure out a few drops of the tincture onto McColl’s tongue, watching as she swallows reflexively.

“Come on,” I whisper, settling back into my chair. “Whatever this is, let it work.”

An hour later, I go through the motions, giving her more, as well as some more water.

For what feels like an eternity, nothing happens. Then, finally, McColl’s eyelids flutter, her breathing deepening slightly. My heart leaps into my throat as her eyes slowly open, blinking in confusion at the cabin ceiling. A beautiful hazel. I missed those eyes more than I thought possible.

“McColl!” I lean forward, relief flooding through me so suddenly it makes me dizzy. “You’re awake,” I say stupidly.

She turns her head toward me, and I see the moment recognition floods back into her gaze.

“Hi.” Her voice is raw and weak.

“Hi,” I whisper back, my heart going wild inside my chest. Without thinking, I lean down and press my lips to her forehead.

Then I lean back in, intent on kissing her sweet lips, but catch myself at the last moment.

I turn and kiss her cheek instead, a soft brush of lips against skin that’s still too pale. At least she’s awake. She’s back.

“How do you feel?” I ask, pulling back.

Instead of answering, McColl’s eyes fill with worry. “How is Maya?” she says, trying to sit up. “And the baby? What about the baby?” She scrunches her nose. “I can’t remember much.” She shakes her head. “I’m sure I heard him cry, but…I’m hitting blanks. Please tell me they’re fine.”

“Yes, yes, they’re absolutely fine,” I assure her, gently pressing her back down by putting a hand on her shoulder. “Both of them. Maya is already up and about. Maxwell is healthy and hungry. Both Kyrie and Maya have been asking after you. The others, too. We’ve all been so worried…even Thesha.”

Relief crosses her beautiful face. “Good. That’s…that’s good.” She closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again. “For a moment there, I thought…” She shudders. “I’d better not think about all that could have gone wrong. How long was I unconscious?” She frowns.

“Two long days.” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling the weight of every sleepless hour. “You’ve been out for two full days, McColl. We were starting to worry that…”

I can’t finish the sentence.

“Then Thesha and Xander foraged for something called moonwort. Thesha was here earlier with a tincture she made.”

“I know it.” She nods and smiles.

“Thesha made you the tincture, and it worked.”

McColl laughs softly.

“What is it?”

“Thesha made me a potion…one that worked. Some would say that’s magic. Some would even say it’s the work of a witch.”

I choke out a laugh. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She—”

There’s another soft knock, and this time, it is Kyrie who pokes her head around the door. When she sees McColl’s open eyes, her face lights up with joy.

“Oh, thank Kakara!” She rushes to the bedside, her eyes glinting. “We were so worried. Maya’s been beside herself with guilt, thinking it was her fault you—”

“No, she mustn’t. It’s not her fault,” McColl says; her voice is still weak. Her eyes at half-mast.

Kyrie nods, wiping her eyes. “This stubborn man has hardly left your side. Only to wash. He even took his meals right there in that chair.”

Heat floods my face as McColl turns to look at me with something unreadable in her expression. “That’s sweet of you, Kian. I guess it’s what friends do. They’re there for each other.”

“Exactly,” I say, probably gruffer than is necessary. “You collapsed. Someone needed to make sure you were… I mean, we didn’t know if…you needed water or when you were going to wake up. I…um…” I’m rambling like an idiot, and force myself to shut the hell up.

McColl’s lips curve in the faintest smile, and I’m grateful to see it.

“You look exhausted,” she observes, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror on the wall. My eyes are indeed bloodshot, my hair disheveled, stubble covering my jaw.

“I’m fine.” I feel like I could sleep for a week.

“How are you feeling?” Kyrie asks, her gaze fixed on McColl.

McColl licks her lips. “Weak,” she admits. “Like I’ve been drained completely. But better than when I first woke up. I’ll be right as rain in no time. I’ll keep taking the tincture Thesha made for me. It’ll help.”

“She and Xander left yesterday and only returned this morning. Thesha insisted on making the tincture herself. She’s been very worried about you, even if she denies it. She said it’s made of… I can’t remember.”

“Moonwort,” McColl says. “It’s the root of a tiny plant that grows at the base of certain trees. Its leaves are snowy white, hence the name. It helps restore the life force of a person.”

Kyrie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Life force. What happened to your life force?”

“What exactly did you do?” I ask McColl, leaning forward. I don’t like the sound of this. “What happened to make you collapse like that? I thought it was because you used too much of your magic. I thought it was exhaustion.” And yet, I knew it couldn’t be as simple as that.

McColl’s eyes dart away from mine, and I can see her choosing her words carefully.

“I gave Maya some of my life essence,” she says quietly.

“I had to. She was too weak to deliver Maxwell on her own after I turned him to the right position. Her body was failing, and he was in distress. It was the only way to give her the strength she needed. I was careful not to give her too much. But at the same time—”

The words leave me reeling. “You gave her your life essence ?” I surge to my feet. “You could have died. I’ve heard of people dying. Just a little too much, and it’s over.” McColl slept for two days. She didn’t just give a little. She almost gave too much. She almost…

“I did what I had to.” Her voice is soft and calm.

“It was risky and irresponsible. Surely you were taught at that magic school of yours never to do something so foolish?” I growl, my voice deep. “Do you have any idea what that would have happened—?” I break off, running both hands through my hair.

The truth is that the thought of losing her terrifies me in ways I don’t want to examine too closely.

“I should go,” Kyrie whispers. By now, the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better, McColl. Thank you for all you did. You should know that Maya wants to see you when you’re up to it. She wants you to meet little Maxwell. He’s cute as a button.”

McColl smiles. “I can’t wait to meet him, too.”

“Not right now,” I say; my voice is still a rough rasp. “McColl needs to rest first. She needs to replenish her life essence.”

“I’m fine,” she says with a yawn.

“After she’s rested.” I widen my eyes at Kyrie, who nods, a smile toying with the edges of her lips.

After she leaves, I pace to the window and back, trying to get my emotions under control. When I turn back to McColl, she’s watching me with those hazel eyes that seem to see too much.

“I’m fine. I swear. Everything worked out.”

“This time. You can’t do that again.” I move back to sit on the edge of the bed. I take her hands in mine, noting how cold and fragile they still feel. “Ever. Do you understand me? You can’t risk your life like that.”

“I saved them both, and that is all that matters.” She smiles. “If it will make you feel better, I will never do that again unless there is an extreme emergency.”

“No, McColl. You can never do it again. I mean it.” The words come out rougher than I intended, but I can’t help it. “When you collapsed, when you wouldn’t wake up…you gave me the biggest fright of my life.”

Something shifts in her expression, surprise and something softer. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to worry you.”

“I thought I’d lost you,” I admit quietly, my thumbs stroking over her knuckles.

“I really am fine. Don’t make me keep saying it over and over.

” She squeezes my hands with what little strength she has before letting go.

“I’m on the mend. I hope you’re ready for some more magic lessons because I’ll be out of this bed before you know it, and actually…

” A small smile tugs at her lips. “I’m starting to feel hungry, which has to be a good sign. ”

Relief floods through me so powerfully that it’s almost painful. “That’s excellent. I’ll go get you something to eat right now.” I start to rise but sit back down. “About magic lessons…our magic, in general…”

“Oh, yes. You said you discovered something. What was it?”

“After I left you at the lake the other day – after our…after the lesson – I went off by myself to think. I tried to access my magic while I was alone, and…”

“And?”

“And nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely nothing. I could feel it there, like always, but I couldn’t touch it.

Couldn't use it. It was just like before. Like it’s been my whole life as an empty fae.

As it should be, I guess. I’ve tested it a few times since.

When I’m here at your side, it’s there, and I can access it. ”

McColl’s eyes widen. “But as soon as you leave…”

“It’s gone.” I shrug. “Our power is now linked somehow. The eclipse, the breaking of your amulet… I think it didn’t just free our magic; it tied us together, magically speaking. We can only access our full power when we’re near each other.”

“I think you’re right. Every time I’ve tried, and it didn’t work, you weren’t there. Why didn’t I think of it?”

“Because your magic has always been erratic.”

“I suppose you’re right. So, it won’t last?” McColl makes a sad face.

“I’m afraid not.”

“That’s a pity. I liked having access to my magic.”

“Me, too. Although, if not having such abundant power means you can’t pull a stunt like that again, I’m all for it.”

McColl sticks out her tongue at me like an insolent child, and I laugh again.

“Although I’m sure I’m right,” I tell her. “It’s just a theory. One we’ll need to test properly, to be sure.”

“I think you might be onto something, but first…I need food. I think I could eat a whole cow.”

I grin. “A whole cow, huh?”

She nods a few times. “Or a deer…or whatever you have.”

“Coming right up. I don’t want you moving a muscle. You need rest and pampering for a few days.”

“Sounds good.” She smiles at me as I leave the room, heading for the cabin.

I need to get her back to her coven, back to the safety of her own people. I was never meant to have this magic coursing through my veins. It’s handy, but I’ll be fine without it. I wish there were a way for her to keep the access to her power.

Right now, she needs to get strong again so that I can take her home. That’s the only thing that matters.