Page 5

The Stillness Waited in the Shadows

T he silver elevator doors opened to reveal Cynthia Hudson, the senior doctor in charge of the ICU. Blonde hair fell in curls to the Light Elf’s shoulders, and a purple and green mating mark wrapped around her left hand and disappeared beneath her white lab coat.

River had met Doctor Hudson’s bonded mate and wife, Fyla, a few months ago at a hospital social. The Earth Elf was jubilant, and her bright personality had remained with River long after the function had ended.

“Welcome to the ICU,” Cynthia said kindly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “We’re glad to have you here tonight.”

Something about her warm brown eyes had the tension in River’s shoulders loosening. “Thank you, Doctor.” She stepped off the elevator. “I’m here to do whatever’s needed.”

This had been River’s motto ever since she entered the medical field. No matter where she worked, she would do her best.

Doctor Hudson tapped a few buttons on her tablet. “ Excellent, that’s what we like to hear. I will be around tonight, but I have patients on several floors, so I’ll need you to stay here.”

River nodded, scanning the files she’d been sent on her own device. There were seven patients who’d be under her care tonight. The first six were typical cases, but the last…

She inhaled sharply, digging her nails into her freshly healed palm as she read the file in front of her.

Anya Valois, earth fae, 254 years old.

Hails from the Eastern Region.

Diagnosis: late-stage Stillness.

She read the last line out loud, her voice cracking on the final word.

The Stillness was a rare, devastating disease that seemingly picked its victims indiscriminately. Earth, fire, water, and air fae were all fair game when it came to the Stillness. No matter who contracted the illness, the outcome was always the same: death.

River had spent hundreds of hours studying the Stillness at the University of Balance, and everything she read said the same thing: The disease was an incurable, unstoppable beast.

A silent, merciless killer, it ate away at its victim’s body, slowly stealing their ability to move, talk, and eventually, breathe. By all accounts, it was an awful way to die.

River understood this illness better than most. Almost twenty years ago, Cyrus Waterborn, her father, had contracted the Stillness. Even with the best medicine money could buy, he had been dying for most of River’s life.

Most of her memories of her father weren’t really memories at all, but stories her brother had told her. Instead of bedtime stories, he used to regale her with tales of his own childhood. She cherished every single one.

These days, Cyrus was rarely alert. It had been nearly two years since she’d last heard her father’s voice.

“That’s correct, she has the Stillness.” Cynthia’s eyes shone with sympathy as they swept over River. “Is this going to be a problem for you, Doctor Waterborn? I know your father…”

“No, I’ll be fine.” River took in a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm. She couldn’t leave, not when she was already walking on thin ice with her boss. “It won’t be a problem,” she said, trying to reassure herself as much as the other doctor.

After all, it was just one night. How bad could it be?

It was bad.

The patients themselves weren’t the problem. No, the problem was River’s, and River’s alone.

Doctor Hudson got an urgent call, leaving River alone to read her patient files. Anya Valois’s file was robust, her family having included more information than normal because they wanted everyone to see their loved one as a person, not a patient.

It worked. By the time she was finished reading, River felt like she had known the earth fae for her entire life.

A mother of one, which was normal for fae since their kind struggled to conceive, Anya had been a librarian before she contracted the Stillness four and a half decades ago.

Her husband had taken care of her for as long as he could, but eventually, the Stillness had advanced, and she’d been moved into a care facility .

A week ago, she’d been transferred to the ICU because of an infection in her lungs.

And now…

Now she looked like she was moments away from Fading.

River stood in the doorway of Mrs. Valois’s room, her heart splitting in two. The scent of cleaners was strong, but nothing could mask the aroma of illness and death.

This was wrong .

Fae were supposed to be strong and powerful. Beautiful in a way that made people look at them twice. Theirs wasn’t the too-beautiful-to-be-real look that vampires like Brynleigh, River’s sister-in-law, had.

No, a fae’s beauty was in the way they remained untouched by age for centuries after their Maturation. It was in the perfect lines of their face, sharp, pointed ears, and clear skin. They aged incredibly slowly before eventually Fading a thousand years or so after birth.

It had always been that way, since the dawn of fae history. Or at least, that’s how it had been before the Great Migration.

The Stillness only started plaguing the fae after they moved from the Obsidian Coast across the Indigo Ocean to the land formerly known as the Four Kingdoms. A dark monster, the Stillness devoured beauty, leaving death in its wake.

The photo in Anya’s file showed her as young, healthy, and full of life. She was smiling, laughing at something off camera.

That woman was gone, and a sickly fae was in her place. Her olive skin was pulled gaunt over her thin frame. Clay colored eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Waves of once-luscious chocolate hair hung limply around her face. Bony hands were crossed over her stomach, her skin papery and translucent.

“Good evening, Mrs. Valois,” River said softly from the foot of her patient’s bed, gripping her tablet like a life raft. “How are you feeling tonight?”

The steady beeping of machines was the only response. That was expected, especially for a patient who had been suffering from the Stillness for over four decades, but River’s heart still cracked.

That ache grew worse as she moved through the room and checked her patient’s vitals. Mrs. Valois’s chapped lips, more grey than pink, were partially open. Up close, her skin had an ashen tinge that had River’s stomach twisting.

The slow, inconsistent rise and fall of the earth fae’s chest was the only sign that she was still alive.

For now.

Like a thief, the Stillness waited in the shadows to steal that last bit of life.

River moved through her duties robotically over the next few hours. She walked down the hall, finding her patients in their beds, tucked beneath their stark white sheets.

Every few minutes, she popped her head into Mrs. Valois’s room. Time and again, the scene remained the same. Unseeing eyes stared at the speckled white ceiling. Machines chirped. The aroma of illness lingered.

Foreboding settled in River’s chest, growing heavier by the hour.

By the time her first break rolled around, she was a mess of emotions. Her magic was swirling, and she’d been repeating Eliza’s mantra for the last hour.

My magic does not control me. It is a tool that I’ve been given. I control it .

The problem was that her magic didn’t feel like a tool right now. It didn’t feel like something she managed. It felt like a force waiting to take over her.

River didn’t grab any food. She couldn’t stomach anything, and besides, Doctor Hudson was treating a patient on the sixth floor right now, so she couldn’t leave.

Refilling her reusable water bottle, she raced to the first unoccupied patient room she could find.

Shutting the door, she locked it with one hand and pulled out her phone with the other.

Unlocking it with the press of her thumb, she hit the first number on her speed dial.

It rang twice while she propped up the device on the bedside table and settled into a seat.

“Hello? River?” A light was turned on, illuminating Ryker’s face on the screen. He was on the couch in a worn grey T-shirt, his pointed fae ears poking out of his ruffled dark brown hair. “What’s wrong?”

She should’ve known that the moment she called, he would sense that something was off. Her brother had always been overly perceptive, which was probably why he excelled as a captain in the military.

“Why does something have to be wrong?” River tried to infuse her voice with a lightness she didn’t feel in her soul. Opening her palm, she drew out threads of water, letting them flow around her fingers. The action soothed both her and her magic. “Can’t a girl just want to talk to her brother?”

She wiggled her fingers, and the water split into three tiny streams, weaving around her digits like translucent ribbons.

Ryker raised a knowing brow. “You can always talk to me, you know that.”

“Why do I sense there’s a but coming?”

“Because there is.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and looking the kind of concerned only big brothers were able to achieve. “What happened, River? Is it your magic? Do you need me to come to Lakewater? Brynleigh’s out, but I can call her, and she can shadow us?—”

“No, it’s fine.” River shook her head, and the water froze around her fingers. Tiny bubbles filled each icy vine. They were delicate—a single touch would snap them in half. “I don’t want you to uproot everything to come help me.”

Not again. Ryker had already sacrificed so much for River.

After the Incident, he’d put his life on hold while he and Tertia had tried fixing things as best as possible.

It wasn’t easy, considering the devastation that River had sown.

Ryker had entered a self-imposed isolation for several years, only emerging from it to partake in the Choosing two years ago.

“What do you need, Shortie?”

Tugging her lip ring through her teeth, River unfroze the water around her hands. She twisted her fingers, sending the liquid into the bathroom, where it disappeared with a splash.

“I just needed to talk to you.” She sucked in a breath, trying to gather her thoughts.

Ryker didn’t push her. He leaned back, waiting for her to continue.

“There’s a patient tonight, and she’s… she has the Stillness.” River scrubbed a hand over her face.

A beat passed, and Ryker’s eyes softened. “Oh.”

“She’s an earth fae, like Atlas.” One of Ryker’s two best friends, Atlas Mossgrove, had been around for most of River’s life. The professor was kind, if not a little strange, for the way he sometimes spoke about the land. “But also… not like Atlas, because the disease…”

“It’s eaten away at her.” Ryker raked his left hand through his hair, his wedding ring glinting. “That must be difficult.”

That was one way to put it. The emotions that River had steadily been shoving down all night tried to force their way to the surface. They were a battering ram against her senses, and all she could do was nod.

“Dad’s okay, Shortie,” Ryker said quietly. “Brynleigh and I were at Waterborn House earlier this evening. He wasn’t talking, but he was alert. His eyes tracked our movements.”

“He knew you were there?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah.”

Relief was a cool stream washing over River, and her lungs loosened. It felt like she could breathe properly for the first time since she walked into Mrs. Valois’s room.

River made a religious gesture across her chest and thanked Dyna, the fae goddess of life and healing. The deity was revered by all fae in the medical profession, but doubly so by River. She was certain her father was still here only because Dyna willed it.

The Stillness was a fickle killer. Sometimes, it took a person quickly.

Other times, the illness ebbed and flowed, giving their victims increasingly rare moments of lucidity.

When Cyrus spoke the night Ryker brought his then-fiancée, now-wife, Brynleigh home to introduce her to the family, it had been a downright miracle.

It was unlikely that River would ever hear her father’s voice again, but she was still holding out hope. She would continue to do so until the end of time because she couldn’t give up on her father. She would do anything for him.

Ryker rested his chin on his fist, looking at her seriously through the phone. “You know I’d call you if there were any change in his condition, right? Just because you’re in another city doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” she murmured.

She never would’ve accepted the residency in Lakewater without her brother’s repeated assurances that he’d keep her in the loop. But River had never anticipated how difficult it would be to be away from her family or how a single patient could make her feel so out of sorts.

“Good.” Ryker settled back on the couch, spreading his legs in the way that only men seemed capable of doing, and got comfortable. “Now, tell me about your day. Are you terrorizing the good people of Lakewater?”

“Me?” She placed a hand on her chest and gasped in mock-outrage, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Never. I am the picture of perfection and good behavior.”

Ryker chuckled, and for a moment, it was as if they were in the same room, watching a game of laser together like old times. “Sure, Shortie. Keep telling yourself that. You forget, I watched you grow up.”

A laugh burst out of her, the first one in gods only knew how long. Her shoulders loosened, and she started updating her brother on her life. Not that there was much to tell, since she didn’t date or have much of a social life outside of work, but it was nice to talk to him.

Bit by bit, word by word, tension slipped from her body. Her magic retreated behind the dam where it resided, and she slowly felt more like herself.

By the time her break was over and she hung up the phone, she thought she’d be okay. She thought she could get through the rest of her shift without any problems.

She was wrong.

Sands save her, but she was so, so wrong.