Page 21

The road leading into Ryme was packed with people walking ahead and behind them, all filtering toward the city gate. Skye shoved through them all, ignoring the shouts.

Kato stumbled after him, gasping. “Help… I beg you,” he wheezed to a woman nearby. “Oh, Shards above… my legs...” He leaned against a bewildered bystander. “I just… need a moment… a century… something.”

Skye didn’t glance back. Didn’t slow. Words didn’t matter.

Only Taly did.

She was limp in his arms, barely moving. Breaths ragged and winding down.

The crowd parted. Some stepped aside for the panting, wild-eyed man muttering about a “hellish death march through the woods.” Others just got out of Skye’s way.

Six guards monitored the road from the battlement. More stood outside the gates, their hands glowing violet as they screened each person. With spies in the city, caution was a necessity, not a choice. To confirm proof of life, all magical concealments had to be stripped away.

Thankfully, they’d planned for this. Aimee had fashioned a glamour to make Taly look human. It would pass a casual glance, even close scrutiny. But for the inspection, it would have to come off. That’s where Ivain came in. He was supposed to be waiting to get them through the checkpoint.

Except Skye didn’t see him.

“Holy shit, when… did… you learn to run… like that…” Kato panted. “Ridiculous… I thought I was supposed to be the rabbit in the family.” He scanned the battlement, found the same glaring absence. “Hey, Skye? Maybe slow down. How is this going to work without the old man?”

“No idea,” Skye said. Taly couldn’t breathe. He needed to get her inside. If it meant carving a way through, he would.

A weary-looking guard waved them forward, barely glancing up as he repeated his script for likely the hundredth time that morning. “Parcels and bags get searched, and you’ll need to submit your dead to the pyres. We have priestesses on hand if you’d like any final rites performed.”

“She’s not dead,” Skye said. “She needs a healer.”

“In that case, I need to check for signs of life and foreign magic.”

The guard reached for Taly.

Skye saw red. He wrenched her back, away from the danger, lips peeling back as a snarl clawed its way up his throat—

Kato stepped between them. “Don’t mind him. He’s had a rough day.”

Skye didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His stare was coiled violence, waiting for an excuse.

Kato kept his voice light. “Look. She’s not in great shape. You really want to be the one to delay a damsel in distress? Maybe best to just let us pass, who is it…” He glanced at the guard’s coat. “Gale?”

The guard’s expression flattened. “You think I haven’t heard that one before?” His voice was laced with exhaustion. “I’ve seen every trick in the book. Unless you’ve got something better than a sob story, your damsel’s getting checked.”

Kato smiled, all sharp edges. “Listen. I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with here.

” He gestured to Taly, her pale, human face barely visible through the blankets.

“I wonder how the Marquess would feel knowing his precious daughter was left to fend for herself in such dire circumstances. I’ll be sure to mention your name if she bleeds out before we manage to get her inside. Gale.”

The guard blinked, then scowled. “It’s his own policy. Look, I just need to—”

“Why was I not informed of their arrival?” a hard, female voice demanded.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Kato muttered.

Eula strode through the gates, bypassing the guards and the line, aiming straight for them.

“Those three,” she shouted. “Send them to me.”

The guard—eager to be rid of them—motioned them forward.

Eula looked as impeccable as ever, though the circles under her eyes had deepened. Skye didn’t know when she’d been brought up to speed, didn’t know her reaction to finding out about Taly. Only that she was here, and he was glad for it.

“Sorry to make you wait. The Marquess was here for four days straight without sleep. I sent him home a few hours ago when he nearly fell off the battlement.” Eula pulled back the blanket just enough to reveal Taly’s pale face.

A tiny shadow stirred against her—Calcifer curled in the shape of a kitten.

His large ears unfurled. He sniffed once, nose quivering.

Eula’s expression remained unchanged. “We’ll get beers soon, and then you both have a lot of explaining to do.” She waved them on. “Clear.”

“Hey!” a woman from the line shouted. “Why do they get to keep their dead?!”

Eula didn’t break stride. “That one’s not dead. Now, get back in line. No shoving.”

Eula led them to the gatehouse, and while Skye went in, Kato waited outside. It was a plain room—gray stone walls, gray stone floor, a high ceiling. Barrels stuffed with every weapon imaginable were crammed in the corners, racks lining the perimeter.

There was a long table, and at the end of it sat Sarina.

Her hair was secured away from her face, which looked worn and weary, but her eyes lit up when she spotted them.

“There,” she said, and Skye set Taly down on the table where she pointed.

Gently, Sarina pulled back the blanket they’d wrapped around Taly to keep her warm. There was no Calcifer this time. Skye didn’t know where the little beast had gone, only that if they were lucky, he would stay there.

Sarina saw Taly’s face, the changes. She saw the delicate tips of Fey ears poking through yellow hair. She allowed herself a single moment of quiet, overjoyed wonder. Eyes watery, she pressed a hand to her mouth.

Taly was here. She was alive. And the final miracle—she was immortal.

It was one thing to know but another to see it with her own eyes and finally believe.

The great cleaving of their perfect little family that they’d all been dreading when her human life came to its inevitable end would no longer be there to loom over every happy moment.

Skye could read each of these thoughts on Sarina’s face and recognized the relief and joy that came with that final, happy realization.

Then she set to work. Sarina’s movements were precise but tender—a mother’s touch—as she checked Taly’s pulse (fluttering) and pressed an ear to her chest to listen to what was now nearly a complete lack of breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Skye answered gruffly. “We got separated. When we found her again, she was like this.”

“Get her up,” Sarina said. He moved to obey, looping an arm beneath Taly’s shoulders to lift her.

Sarina rummaged in a sack, dumping it when she couldn’t immediately find what she was looking for. Medical supplies spilled across the table. “I wasn’t sure what you might need. Your message was too vague. So, I brought a bit of everything.”

Indeed, there were rolls of linen, poultices, and potions to treat any manner of magical wound or injury.

Sarina grabbed a vial of faeflower potion, popped the cork, and tipped it into Taly’s mouth. “Come on, baby, you have to drink.”

It still felt wrong watching Taly drink faeflower. A substance so poisonous to humans, Sarina had always kept it in a locked cabinet to ensure it didn’t accidentally make it into anything Taly ate or drank.

Now, she was forcing it into her mouth.

A moment later, Taly began to choke.

“Anything?” Skye asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe a swallow…” Sarina set the vial aside.

Taly coughed around the liquid like she was drowning. Skye felt helpless—completely and utterly useless .

They were so close, so damn close, if he lost her now—

“Give me that.”

Skye obeyed, handing Sarina an herbal expectorant potion. She dabbed some onto a cloth. “Breathe in as best you can.”

Taly gasped, sharp and desperate, her breath snagging on the cloth Sarina pressed to her mouth. She turned her head, trying to pull away, but it was too late—enough of the scent had slipped in.

Then Sarina turned her onto her side and gave her back a solid hit with her fist.

Taly spat something black and thick onto the table.

“Good girl,” Sarina murmured. “Better out than in.” She landed another solid hit, and Taly coughed up more of that black gunk. It looked like blood that had clotted, and it was coming up out of her lungs. No wonder she couldn’t catch a breath.

“Come on.” Sarina delivered another solid strike as Taly continued to cough and cough.

Then, the most beautiful sound—she gasped in a breath. A real one.

“Good,” Sarina cried, laughing. “Give me another big breath, little one. Can you do it?”

Taly tried but needed another solid slap on the back to get past whatever hitch made each successive breath so wet and ragged.

But she was breathing, at least—however labored. Lying on her side, her eyes still stubbornly refused to open.

“Scrapes and bruises,” Sarina murmured. She gave his shoulder a hard shove. He barely felt it. “Scrapes and bruises?! She was drowning on dry land, and you tell me to come prepared for a few ‘scrapes and bruises’ ?”

“Blame Kato. He had the comm,” Skye answered flatly. His focus remained on Taly and the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Why wouldn’t she open her eyes? Didn’t she know it was killing him?

Sarina had to press her hand to his cheek and physically pull away his focus. She searched his face, his eyes, and saw the weariness there. How much of him the last five days had eroded.

“Oh, my brave boy,” she whispered tearfully. “You did so well.”

He took her hand and squeezed, the only thing he could do when words wouldn’t come.

Everyone else had called it hopeless, told him to move on, let go.

But he hadn’t. He’d kept believing. He’d shouldered that pain alone, and just the acknowledgement that he wasn’t insane, that this all wasn’t some elaborate fever dream—it eased that knot in his chest.

“Where are the others?” Sarina asked. “Lord Brenin’s mages?”

Vaughn, Carin, and Asher—the other three members of their party who were now conspicuously absent.

“Dead,” Skye answered. “They turned on us. They knew what Taly was and tried to take her for themselves.”

Sarina’s expression turned grim. “They discovered her?”

“No, they knew . They followed me to get to her. We were targeted.”

Taly coughed again, though this time it was more controlled, less hacking.

Then, her eyes—they opened.

Skye was immediately at her side, lifting her up so she didn’t overexert herself trying to do it herself. Her head lolled onto his shoulder.

“Hey,” she croaked, her eyes flat with pain behind the glamour.

Relief washed over him. He exhaled a laugh. “Hey. There she is. Thought you were going to sleep forever.”

Her lips twitched as if to smile. Or grimace. “Yeah, well. Death said no.”

Beside him, Sarina waited—impatiently. “There’s someone who would like to say hello, I think.”

Taly nodded weakly. “How angry is she?”

He pretended to check. “No smoke yet.” But if he stalled any longer, there would be.

Carefully, he handed her over. Sarina caught Taly in her arms, pulling her close, hands trembling as they ran through her hair.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Just held her.

Then she let out a shuddering breath. “My little one,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You’re safe now. You’re home.”

Taly made a small, wrecked sound—a sob she barely held back. She clutched Sarina tighter, fingers curling in the fabric of her dress, as if letting go would mean losing everything all over again.

Skye stepped back, giving them space. This is what Taly needed right now. Not him.

The gray morning light washed over him as he slipped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. No sooner had he taken a breath of cold air than a hand grabbed his sleeve.

“I have a bone to pick with you, little brother.”

Before Skye could react, Kato shoved him toward the tower.

“You shouldn’t be able to outrun me.”

Skye dug in his heels. “Seriously?”

Another shove—harder this time. Shadows swallowed them both as they hit the stairwell.

“Don’t play stupid.” Kato’s voice dropped, sharp and low. “I saw what happened at the bridge. I knew about the bloodcrafting, but I didn’t think the old man was insane enough to teach you how to morph .”

“He didn’t,” Skye said flatly. “I figured it out myself.”

Kato swore.

Bloodcrafting was, in essence, the art of harnessing the magic within his blood to manipulate the physical aspects of his body.

All shadow mages did this to some extent—augmenting the aether flow within their bodies to adjust their senses or give them an extra boost of strength or speed when needed.

Bloodcrafting, however, went further. Did more.

It allowed him to change on a cellular level, to rebuild and restructure at will—in theory. Skye had never attempted it before the river. His body just… reacted .

“I thought you were going to stop.”

“Stop what?” Skye asked.

“You found her.” Kato’s voice was edged with frustration. “That’s what started all of this, right? So, now that you have your precious damsel back at your side, you’re done, yeah?”

Skye exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know… maybe.”

Kato shoved him. “What do you mean maybe ? The answer is ‘ yes ’, Skylen. It’s too fucking dangerous.”

That tone—worry laced with some warped sense of sibling responsibility. Skye didn’t know what to do with it.

So, he snapped, “Since when do you care, Kato? If anything, I figured you’d be happy to see me risking my life. With me gone, you go back to being Mom’s favorite.”

“I don’t know. This is weird for me too, okay?

But I’m here, aren’t I? And I think you’re making a mistake.

Go ahead and throw your life away bonding with a…

time mage .” He mouthed the words. “I still think you’re crazy, but whatever.

Just don’t actually throw your life away, Skye. There are worse things than dying.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been dealing with you for the past week, remember?”

“Har-fucking-har. I’m serious, Skye.”

“And I don’t need a lecture.”

The air between them stretched, tense and brittle. Finally, Kato held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Forget I said anything.”

“It’s already forgotten,” Skye replied icily. “As always.”

Skye shouldered past Kato, boots scuffing the stone as he stormed across the yard.

Sarina was waiting for him, standing in the gatehouse doorway. Her expression was grave.

“She’s getting worse.”