Page 68 of Artemysia

“I held strong and didn’t let go.” - Delphine

“Y ou slept for two days, Elphie. You must be starving.” Throg’s hearty voice comes from an armchair beside me. My throat is dry, but my stomach rumbles. He knows me so well.

Ivy bounces onto my bed from somewhere in the room. Her long hair is down, so all I see are flashes of auburn as she moves inquisitively around me, examining me. She picks up my limbs one at a time, inspecting me and checking the bandages.

I gape at them, trying to focus. My tongue feels too thick to speak.

“They gave you something to heal faster, but it made you sleep,” she says brightly.

“Riev?” I mutter, rubbing my face with a palm.

I take it as a bad sign when Throg and Ivy exchange wretched looks that fail miserably to hide their worry.

“Tell me,” I snap, cold dread pulsing through my veins .

Having decided that I am whole and sound, Ivy checks my pulse one last time and finally sits still beside me.

“He’s gotten worse,” Ivy says quietly, picking at a corner of the silken bedspread. “And there’s no cure.”

Throg cuts in. “The Syf are working on an antidote, now that you’ve found the source. They have samples from the river. Rounded up other rabid Syf to test a cure. At least no more have changed since they know to stay away from the East River.”

“The whole world is Syf,” I blurt. There’s no way to dull the alarming fact for them. The thought still sends a gut punch of terror through me.

“Riev’s uncle explained it to us yesterday. He sent word out to other Syf lands asking for help to clean the river, to help find a cure for Riev and others who are infected, and to warn them not to drink the water or touch too much of it.”

“I need to see him.” I brush the hair from my eyes and throw off the blankets.

“You can’t. He’s not himself, Captain.” Ivy warns.

I swing my legs off the bed, glancing down at my silk pajama tee and shorts. They are mint green with gold stitching. Not bothering to change, I push past Throg as he stands to block me, and stumble to the doorway.

“He doesn’t recognize us anymore, Elphie. He won’t know who you are.”

“Let me go. He’ll know me. He’ll know my voice.” I’m certain of it.

From the other side of the room, the Lindwyrm uncoils to follow me as I pull on my riding boots near the door.

Ivy reaches out as it slithers past, stroking its sleek inky scales, as smooth and hard as onyx. “It leaves to hunt but always comes back. I think it’s decided to stay. It allows me to pet it, but it almost bit the head off one of the guards last night.”

The Lindwyrm darts its serpent’s head past me, uncanny in its speed. Its forked tongue unfurls, lashing into the air. It senses something or someone.

A desperate knock sounds at the door, followed by, “It’s Eira. Is Delphine awake yet?”

I yank open the door. There’s no time for a greeting. Eira eyes the gigantic winged snake behind me.

“Hello, Delphine. I’m glad you’re up. It’s Riev. Bad news—he escaped. He’s headed south, based on the carnage he’s left. We’re tracking him, but his only chance of living is if he listens to you. Otherwise, we have to kill him before he does more damage. He’s gone on a murder spree.”

The four of us ride out through the southern gate, which should help us catch up to Riev.

It’s my first time on a horse, but except for its shorter gait, the ride is similar to an elk.

My head pounds, overtaken only by the knots in my stomach, which twist painfully when Eira explains that Riev escaped this morning, and that other teams have been trying to pursue him without success.

“I thought healthy Syf were stronger than rabid Syf. How did he escape?” I ask.

“Normally, they are. The healers surmise that because Riev is only half-Syf, his strength and speed have not diminished. Maybe even improved. He’s much more aggressive than a rabid Syf,” Eira says grimly. “No offense, but we think his human side somehow made him even worse.”

At the edge of the forest, we follow a trail of blood, leading to a pile of bones.

He’s so bloodthirsty that he gnawed his way through an entire wild boar he’d caught.

Next, we find a troop of Artemysian Syf—those who were tracking Riev. At first, based on their bloodied bodies, we think they are all dead. But none are decapitated, and we leave behind two Syf who came with us to help them.

Outside the forest, into familiar South Kingdom farmland, we come upon a caravan of human travelers. Their wagons are overturned, their elk nowhere to be seen.

“Is anyone injured? Do you need help? Which way did he go?” I call out.

“South,” an older man replies. Four families with small children are pale and shaken; they work on collecting their belongings strewn across the road.

“We’re okay. He charged at me, wild as a beast, but at the last minute, he snatched my dagger and stabbed himself in the leg. Told me to run.” The younger man eyes Eira with suspicion, recognizing her as Syf.

“We ran and hid in the fields. He took off that way.” A woman with a baby in her arms tips her head south, down the road.

There’s a trail of Riev’s blood that guides us. I’m gutted that he’s injured and bleeding.

We pass a half-eaten sheep. Other rabid Syf never attacked livestock.

I choke back the bile surging up my throat. I tell myself it’s not him, and force myself to maintain a sliver of hope. He hasn’t killed Syf or humans. Yet.

But I know in my gut that this day will not end well.

The Syf horses pound over the dirt road that eventually leads to Limingfrost, but there’s no word that Riev has made it that far, thankfully.

Ivy and I are the fastest riders, perhaps out of desperation, but also—horses don’t seem to be as fast as elk.

She and I must be driving them harder to reach the galloping pace we are used to.

Either way, we lead Eira, Throg, and a handful of Artemysian soldiers who trail behind us.

We crouch low to balance, but lift our weight off the horses’ backs to encourage speed.

We pass a farmer clutching his arm in pain, a fresh bite mark visible on his skin. He insists he will be okay but gestures to the far end of his field, toward a pond and long wild grass.

“There!” I shout. “Riev.” I charge at full speed to reach him first.

A bloodied Riev wrestles a mangled leg of the sheep he must have carried with him. He tears flesh, chewing. When he spots me, he rips off a bone and flings it at me. His hair is a tangled mess, and his clothes are torn to shreds. He’s unrecognizable. Filthy. Wild.

The sight of him bleeds my heart dry. He would hate himself for existing in this state.

I signal with an upheld fist to the others to stay back as I approach.

My hand trembles as I draw my sword. I’ve never been unsteady when wielding a blade. The feel of my palm around steel usually calms me, but right now, I’m shaking uncontrollably. I don’t want to have to use it.

“Riev. It’s me.”

He drops the carcass, spits out what he’s chewing, and charges at me. I swing off my borrowed horse.

“Stop! It’s Delphine. I’m here to help you.”

He doesn’t stop. He’s faster than ever, and he pushes off his last step and hurtles himself at me.

I leap in the air toward him, hoping to catch him off-guard and strike him first. He won’t expect me to attack.

My palm presses against the flat of my sword to smack him on the side of his head.

He’s knocked aside, but he seizes my arms as he goes down and we roll into the long grass alongside the path.

His claws dig into my shoulders, slashing at my throat.

His fangs, like wolf’s teeth, snap the air as I kick out my feet to hold him back. I’m forced to use both hands to clutch his throat to keep him from biting me.

“Riev, please. It’s me, I won’t hurt you,” I beg.

His leg bleeds where he stabbed it to stop himself from attacking the travelers.

For a brief moment, the ferocity in his features eases. I know he fights himself to come back to me.

“Delphine…” he grinds out in a voice I barely recognize, “kill me. Please. Before the sick, mindless killer takes over. I’m going to murder you. I’ll slaughter everyone, I swear to you. I can’t hold back any longer.”

“No. Riev. You’re the only rabid Syf who has been able to control himself to some extent. Stay with me. I’m not killing you.”

“Look at all this blood. Human, Syf. I can’t live like this. I don’t deserve to live. All I hunger for is blood, and I won’t stop. You have to do it. Only by your hand. Please.”

“Listen to me. You’re fighting it—you didn’t kill anyone, Syf or human. You bit some people and ate a sheep. But you stabbed yourself. That’s where all the blood is from. Come back to Artemysia with us.”

“I don’t want to be like this. This wicked thing. Please, Elphie. There’s no time. This is the last time I can come back—I can feel it. After this, I can’t stop myself anymore.”

“No. You deserve to live.”

“You’re Delphine Julian. You always do the right thing. You don’t put your own needs first. You can do this. Don’t let me hurt any more. Remember me for who I was in the cave pools. You’re my first and last and only. I love you.”

My control shatters and the tears spill out.

To me, he’s so much more than who he was at the cave pools. I see the whole of him, and I believe in him. I’ll never come back from this if I can’t save him.

His eyes go vacant, a hollowness replacing the light. He’s gone again.

I didn’t even have time to respond to his words.

He shoves my hands off his throat and dives into me, his bite landing at the base of my neck.

I scream through the pain.

My hand grasps blindly for my dagger, yanking it free from my belt. I kick him back, just enough to point the dagger between us.

“I don’t want to do this, Riev. Please don’t make me.” My voice shakes with desperation. I blink back my tears, because I can’t afford blurred vision right now.

Ivy and Throg circle us, and Eira and her squad come from behind.

Unnaturally swift, he slashes at Ivy with his dagger and knocks Throg off his feet. He’s on top of Eira, tearing his fangs into her shoulder even as he fends off her guards, kicking and clawing. Eira’s face twists in pain, but she doesn’t cry out as she struggles against him.

I roll up and knock Riev off her, and we tumble together in the grass. He pounces on top of me, kneeing me in the stomach, but I point my dagger at him, holding steady with both hands at my chest.

I’m hoping the sight of the blade aimed at him will give him pause.

He snarls, lips quivering as he bares his fangs. They’re so long that the top teeth dent his bottom lip.

“Riev, stop. Listen to my voice.”

He lunges forward to strike again with his gnashing fangs.

I don’t want to see it.

I close my eyes and whisper, “I’m yours.”

He slams into me and drives himself into my dagger. I shake uncontrollably as the blade sinks into his flesh, his chest .

Oh gods .

Part of me knows I could have shifted the dagger out of the way, releasing it in time. The other part of me knows he heard me, saw the dagger, and impaled himself, while I held strong.

I held strong and didn’t let go.

Did I do it for him? For myself? Or to save others?

If hadn’t held my blade, he would have killed me, Throg, Ivy, Eira, and escaped to harm others.

Even if we somehow captured him, he’d be a prisoner at the castle in his tortured state for the rest of his life, until he ripped off his own limbs to escape.

He’d begged me not to let him live like that.

As a controlled beast. He only wanted to be free, of himself, of his entire life under someone else’s control.

I knew what I was doing. He knew what he was doing, if only in a brief moment of sanity.

I am certain beyond a doubt that he heard what I had to say, what I needed him to know, even if it was the last thing he ever hears. I am his.

When I dare peel my eyes open, my dagger is in his heart, and he’s sprawled on top of me. Hot blood pools between us, trickling its heated, sticky ooze onto my chest and neck.

His breath is still. What have I done?

He’s motionless. Dead.

His lips are on my forehead. Soft and warm and shielding me from his fangs.

In his last act, he ran himself into my knife and placed his lips on my forehead in a kiss.

Not a bite. A kiss.

I know he heard me.

I’m yours , I said.

He knows I am his, forever.

My gasp kicks off an unending sob, and my hand continues to grip the dagger in his heart, even as Eira and Throg move him off me.

Throg unclenches my fingers from around the handle.

He picks me up and sets me on his horse, the largest one the Syf had to accommodate his size. One used to pull heavy carts, they said.

I’m crying uncontrollably. Throg holds on to my convulsing body during the entire ride home. I don’t glance at Riev’s body draped over my horse.

It’s something I never want to see or remember, so I refuse to look.

I just can’t.

I’ve used up all the courage and bravery I have. Perhaps I did the right thing, and I didn’t put what I wanted first—but it’s broken me.

Riev has broken me in ways I never thought possible.

We ride in utter silence back into the woods. What is there to say? Everyone saw what happened. I did what I had to do, and he sacrificed himself for me.

Love is fucking deadly.