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Chapter 11

IRIS

It could have been a trick of the light, but the red glow of the diagnostic charm around Everett Lannish’s arms seemed deeper.

Please, let it be a trick of the light.

“Do come back tomorrow,” Everett called from his bed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “The other ones aren’t nearly as much fun.”

Everett rarely showed more than mild symptoms on most of the days I visited, but the healers had warned me he’d had a rough night. His stories of his family were still filled with his usual grandeur and charm, but the weariness in his eyes was undeniable. So instead of a formal examination, we had simply sat together, sharing our favorite recipes.

He didn’t need me to check on him as often as I did, but I tried to split my time between the library and the infirmary most days, sometimes bringing books with me.

The array of tonics still sat unused on his bedside table, but he hadn’t thrown them away.

I was closing the partition to allow him some rest when Sarek strode into the Arcton Palace infirmary.

He pulled me into a hug. “Oh, how I’m glad to see you, Sparrow.”

“You’ve seen me more often recently than you did back home.” I was surprised to see him again after only a fortnight. A pang of unease shot through me. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything is exceedingly mundane back home.” Sarek snaked an arm around my shoulder, his fingers brushing the bare skin of my clavicle. Zinnia is out of her mind with worry, but Gideon is keeping her distracted, he flooded our mental connection. But everything else is unbearably dull. Same as before you left.

I wouldn’t call a plague dull, Sarek. I pushed back at him, ducking from beneath his arm to gather my bag from the floor.

“You know what I mean,” he amended aloud.

“How’s Flora?” I asked.

Sarek groaned. “Fighting us every step of the way, but I think it’s helping. No signs of infection between doses.”

I handed him several more tins of her salve. “That’s my girl.”

“The revitalizing tonic is working, too, thanks to you.” His smile broke through my rising irritation. “I came to let Nora know before my next meeting.”

“How much is it helping?”

“Not enough,” he admitted, adjusting the strap of my satchel higher on my shoulder. “But better than anything else so far. The progression is much slower. Do you need more here?”

“I’ve been able to brew a few things from my chambers. The guard stationed with me helped order supplies.” We stopped outside High Healer Nora’s door. “But look at the shelves.” I gestured to the open cabinet to our right.

“They haven’t used any?”

“None.”

“You’re nothing if not persistent,” he said, resting a hand on the door. “They will.”

* * *

It was far later than I normally stayed outside for meals, and I glanced up from my book once more, scanning the vast expanse of snow ahead.

I’d stopped taking Kacidon’s records outside weeks ago, opting instead for tattered novels to have a break from the endless scouring. Not to mention the books I worked with now were even more precarious. Theon wouldn’t have looked the other way to smuggle them outside. And as much as I enjoyed reading outdoors, I would never chance anything happening to such important history.

Sarek had been right. The realization had struck as soon as I said it out loud. The Goddesses had last walked Felviran hundreds of years ago, during the end of the Tenebris War in a century-long period known as The Passage. Even though the language of the Ethera had replaced Divinian, the language of the gods, many records of The Passage and its most pivotal moments had been preserved in the old tongue.

In books that hadn’t even crossed my mind to investigate.

The Scholar in charge of the library had been skeptical when I requested access to the Ancient Records Chamber the week prior, but had relented after several days—grudgingly, with permission from the Gavalon family. Like practically all activities in Kacidon, I was required to be accompanied when inside the warded room. Arcton Palace’s staff were mostly aware of the research I conducted, granting me access to rooms of higher security. Studying the new texts went faster, as the old languages lent themselves more to scanning for recognizable words or symbols over reading full accounts.

I looked across the grounds one last time before packing up my bag and pushing to stand.

Fucking Divine, every muscle ached. I had barely lived a blink of an Etheran lifespan, and my body already decided it was over the entire affair.

Stretching my arms across my body, I bent forward to ease some of the tension crawling up my back. I had just rolled back up when my boy from the woods appeared, catching his stumble with a step forward.

“Rather late today, aren’t we?” I called on an inhale, stepping back from the space where he had materialized.

“Got caught up,” he panted, winking. His hair was slightly disheveled, several buttons of his light tunic popped open. A smooth expanse of muscle I had yet to see rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

I stared at the exposed skin, blinking several times.

Bewildered by his sudden appearance, of course.

“Family heirlooms,” he explained, spinning a silver signet ring on his finger. “Allows me to transport myself and another, given my essence isn’t depleted, anywhere within Kacidon.”

I was absolutely staring.

“So, you aren’t a Wayfarer,” I studied the ring as sunlight bounced off it. “Inorganic magic, then. Shall I turn you in?”

“Nothing of the sort,” he said quickly, eyes widening.

All right, perhaps joking about banned magic practices wasn’t taken well by everyone, regardless of how many of those practices were still used in roundabout ways. Deemed the ‘safe’ and ‘necessary’ forms of Inorganic magic because Solyndra saw value in them, whereas the others had been condemned for years. No official list existed, detailing what you could and couldn’t be convicted for if caught using magic that didn’t come from your goddess blessings.

No fewer than three healers in Kacidon’s infirmary used diagnostic charms when I was there last. Which was a learned skill, you didn’t need any specific goddess blessing to perform it. Yet, I’d witnessed a public execution for a woman caught scrying only three years ago.

It was all at the discretion of the Altaerran Council.

Oh, how they loved playing Gods. Of course, an item made with non-essence magic was probably more likely to be seen as untoward than a diagnostic charm, so perhaps it was a touchy subject.

“Enchantment,” he added in the silence.

An expensive one, at that, to last so long. In all of our travels, Zinnia and I had never managed to befriend a Spellbinder. The artefacts they created, bound with permanent enchantments might be commonplace in Kacidon, but we only owned a handful.

And the line between enchanted artefacts and inorganic magic had always baffled me. Sure, they were made using a Spellbinders goddess-given magic, but they were more often than not sold to others. How was the entirety of Reilune using enchanted platforms to travel not ‘ taking advantage of magic that wasn’t ours to use ’?

Hypocrites.

“Oh,” I nodded at the silver band. “You’re part of one of those pretentious old houses, aren’t you? Years of rich old assholes with sticks up their asses.”

Kacidon would still have families who’d stuck to one realm for as long as history could account, regardless of how free travel between the realms now was. Almost all of the ancient houses had disappeared over time, but not here.

“Years of legacy , most would say.”

“And yet, that legacy doesn’t seem to be enough for you to buy your own stylograph,” I noted, pointing at the enchanted pen clutched in his other hand.

“If you’d like to keep your possessions,” he twirled the artefact between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear, “you should consider keeping them on your person instead of using them as projectiles.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said over my shoulder, making my way over the hill toward Arcton Palace. I still had no idea how Theon could see me when I was out here, I could barely even make out the doors to the palace with the way the grounds sloped. “Next time I need an object to throw your way.”