Page 128 of Brimstone

SAERIS

“SIRE! SIRE, COMEquick. Te Léna needs your help!”

Archer’s call outside the bedroom door woke us. Fisher was on his feet and moving before I’d fully opened my eyes. He kicked his way into a pair of pants and hurtled out of the door, barefoot and shirtless. It took me ten seconds longer to dress. I followed behind, a million anxious questions streaking through my mind like meteors across the night sky.

I nearly crashed into Archer, who was still standing in the hallway outside the room.

“Mistress! Wait, mistress! You’re—”

I ran.

What’s happened? Hayden was fine when we left him last night. Did traveling through the quicksilverdosomething to him?

Did his relic not work? Oh—oh,gods,did I fuck up his relic somehow?

Is he awake?

Is he sick?

Is . . .

I stumbled to a halt in the open doorway. Evening light spilled through the window of the bedroom, falling in rectangles across the rumpled duvet that was still drawn up to my brother’s chin. His head was tipped back, his mouth open, and he was snoring loudly.

Besides my brother, the room was empty.

“Mistress! Miss . . . tress!” Archer thudded into the room, fighting for breath and struggling to speak. “You went . . . the wrong . . . way. It isn’t your . . . brother. It’s . . . the master’ssister.”

Everlayne.

I took off again, sidling past the fire sprite and bolting for the stairs. I could smell him now—my mate had come this way and had left a trail of his scent thick in the air behind him. I raced down the hallway and turned right, vaulting up the stairs four at a time. There was a commotion up ahead; Everlayne’s room was fit to bursting, too many people packed inside the small space.

Te Léna. Her husband, Maynir. Danya. Fisher. Carrion—gods, everyone was here.

“Hold her still!” Te Léna cried. “She’s going to bite through her tongue!”

On the bed, Everlayne was in the grips of a seizure. Her body was bowed so badly that the only part of her touching the sweat-soaked sheets was the crown of her head and the heels of her feet. She shook, eyes rolled back into her head, jaw wrenched to one side, her fingers bent at odd angles and spasming. Fisher had his sister by the head. He was trying to work a piece of leather between her teeth. “I’m going to break her fucking jaw if I pull any harder,” he hissed.

“Everlayne? Layne, can you hear me?” Te Léna called. The healer’s eyes were wild with worry.

I took in the scene—the noise, and scents, the panic. “What the hell’s goingon?”

Carrion was trying to hold Layne’s hand, but the female was thrashing so hard that maintaining his grip looked to be proving difficult. “I was up in the bedroom across the way,absolutelyminding my own business, and I heard screaming. I had to kick the door down to get in. She was strangling Te Léna.”

“Whowas?”

“Who do you think?Layne,” Danya barked. “It took both of us to pry her fingers from Te Léna’s throat.”

“Why were you up here?” Fisher had climbed down from the bed; he had managed to slip the leather between his sister’s teeth and was now trying to gather her hair out of her face.

Danya didn’t look at him. “I wasalsominding my own business,” she snapped.

“Gods a-fucking-live.” Fisher shook his head. “Go find Lorreth, Danya. Tell him he’s needed up here.”

The warrior wiped her nose with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her cheek—she must have caught a stray fist from Layne. Her eyes flitted to Carrion and lingered there. “I’m on it.”

“Stay. . . .back!” Layne yelled. She had already spat out the leather. “Just leave me! Leave mealone!” Fear echoed off the walls. It hung thick in the air. This was nothing like what had happened when I’d been alone with Layne. It wasn’t Edina’s voice that rushed past Layne’s lips. It was Layne’s herself. “Please! Please, please nooooo!” she begged.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Fisher demanded, eyes sharp on Te Léna.