Page 50

U ldrek crossed the room in three swift strides, kneeling before me. His hands hovered near mine, not quite touching, mindful of the burns.

"Issy," he said, just my name, his voice rough at the edges. His eyes moved from my face to what remained of Gavriel, then back to me. Not with horror or judgment—but with something like wonder.

I wanted to say something, to explain, but my throat felt raw, my mind blank. I looked down at my hands, the skin blistered and angry where I'd touched the Seal.

"We need to clean these," he said, reaching for the pouch at his belt and extracting a small tin and strips of linen.

More figures appeared in the doorway behind him—guardsmen in Everwood tabards. I recognized Daric, and beside him, Captain Helvey. They wore matching expressions of shock as they surveyed the room.

And behind them—to my surprise—stood Councilor Thenholt. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, but he showed no fear, only a grim sort of resolve.

"Secure the perimeter," Helvey ordered, gesturing to Daric. "No one in or out." He stepped into the room, careful to avoid the worst of the destruction, and knelt beside what remained of Gavriel. "By the Alders," he muttered.

Uldrek's attention never wavered from me. He uncapped the tin, revealing a pale green salve that smelled of herbs and pine. "This might sting," he warned, his voice low.

He took my right hand first, cradling it in his palm as he gently applied the salve to the burned skin. It stung—a sharp, clean burn that quickly faded to numbness. His touch was careful, clinical almost, but I could feel the tension radiating from him in waves.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Ellie?"

"Safe," he replied immediately. "Hobbie's with her. Everyone at Tinderpost is fine."

Relief washed over me, so powerful I might have collapsed if I weren't already on my knees. Ellie was safe. That was all that mattered.

Councilor Thenholt approached cautiously, his gaze fixed on the blackened remains of the Seal lying beside Gavriel's body. He crouched to examine it, careful not to touch the melted metal.

"The Seal of Veritas," he said quietly. He looked up at me, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows. "You did this, young woman? You turned it?"

I nodded once, not trusting my voice.

Thenholt's expression shifted from grim to something like awe. "By the Alders," he murmured again. "You turned it." He straightened, and to the captain, he said, "Gather everything. The Council will want a complete record."

"Am I—" I began, then cleared my throat. "Will I stand trial for this?"

Thenholt's eyebrows shot up. "Trial? For destroying a forbidden relic and its fugitive wielder?" He shook his head firmly. "You will not stand trial for this. Not now, not ever." His gaze softened. "You've done Everwood—indeed, all of Alderwilde—a great service, Miss Fairbairn."

Uldrek had moved to my left hand now, wrapping the blistered palm in soft linen after applying more of the cooling salve. His movements were precise, practiced—the motions of someone who had dressed many wounds, including his own.

I watched him as he worked. The way his jaw was set, tight with rage he never got to spend.

The rigid control in his shoulders, as if holding himself back from something.

The way he glanced at me when he thought I wouldn't notice—quick, furtive looks, like he was afraid I might vanish if he blinked too long.

"How did you find me?" I whispered.

He didn't look up, focusing on tying off the bandage around my hand. "I went to Tinderpost," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "They told me what happened. Dora remembered nothing—but Gruha did." His hands stilled for a moment. "I tracked you from there."

I blinked. "You tracked me?"

He finally met my eyes. "All the way."

"Why?"

He finished wrapping my palm, laying it gently in my lap. For a long moment, he didn't answer. When he did, his voice was barely audible.

"Because I don't know how to stay anywhere, Issy." His eyes lifted to mine, honest and bare. "Except near you."

The room faded around us, leaving just the two of us on a small island of stillness.

In his eyes, I saw the truth he couldn't speak aloud—how he'd followed not because he thought I needed saving but because he couldn't bear to be apart.

Because the claiming bond wasn't what tied us together anymore.

It was a choice. His. Mine.

I reached out with my bandaged hand and touched his face. "Thank you," I said softly. "For coming for me."

His eyes closed briefly, leaning into my touch. "Always," he murmured.

A discreet cough from Helvey broke the moment. "We need your statement, Miss Fairbairn," he said. "When you're ready."

Uldrek helped me to my feet, his hand steady at my elbow. I swayed slightly, exhaustion and pain finally catching up with me. "Can it wait?" he asked, his tone making it clear it wasn't really a question.

Thenholt stepped forward before Helvey could respond. "The essentials only, for now," he said. "The full accounting can wait until we're back in Everwood."

I nodded, gathering my strength. "He kidnapped me from Tinderpost House," I began.

"Used the Seal to control Dora into letting him inside.

I pretended to be under his control so he wouldn't hurt anyone.

" I glanced at what remained of Gavriel, feeling nothing but a hollow sort of emptiness.

"He brought me here. He tried to use the Seal on me, but the claiming bond protected me. "

"And then?" Thenholt prompted gently.

"We fought," I said. "I grabbed the Seal. It... turned on him."

Thenholt nodded, seeming to understand more than I'd explicitly stated.

"Not uncommon, with artifacts so strongly tied to intent and will.

The magic can rebound if the wielder's hold over their target breaks.

" He studied me for a moment. "Still, it takes remarkable strength to force such a rebound. "

I didn't feel remarkable. I felt drained, sore, and desperately in need of a bath. But I managed to stand a little straighter. "May I go home now? Please."

"Of course," Thenholt said. "Captain, see that Miss Fairbairn and Master Wolfsbane get off safely. The Council will handle the rest."

Helvey nodded. "We'll need some time to secure the scene and prepare the body for transport," he told us. "But we can arrange a carriage—"

"No need," Uldrek cut in. "I have a mount outside." He looked at me, a question in his eyes. "If you're up for riding."

"Anything but another carriage," I said with feeling.

The captain looked dubious but nodded. "As you wish. We'll follow behind as soon as we're done here."

We left the others to their grim work. Uldrek kept his hand at my back, steady and warm, as we made our way down the stairs and out of the inn. The innkeeper stood nervously near the entrance, his earlier suspicion replaced by a sort of fearful deference.

"My apologies for any inconvenience," he stammered, not quite meeting my eyes.

"Keep your apologies," Uldrek growled. "It's only by the Council's mercy you're not facing charges for harboring a criminal."

The man paled further but said nothing as we passed. I was too tired to feel anger toward him—he was just another pawn in Gavriel's schemes, probably paid well for his discretion and silence.

Outside, the night air was crisp and clean, washing away the lingering smell of smoke and magic.

Stars wheeled overhead, countless and bright beyond the small pool of lantern light that spilled from the inn's windows.

Mud squelched beneath our boots as Uldrek guided me away from the building, toward the edge of the courtyard, where shadows gathered thick beneath a stand of trees.

He stopped at the edge of the darkness and gave a soft, low whistle. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the shadows shifted, and something massive stepped forward.

I stiffened in surprise and awe.

It wasn't a horse. It was a ram—but like no ram I'd ever seen.

Enormous, its shoulder level with Uldrek's chest, with curved horns that swept back from its broad forehead.

Its coat was thick and shaggy, the color of storm clouds, flecked with hints of silver that caught the starlight.

And its eyes were like molten amber, intelligent and watchful.

"That is not a horse," I said, rather unnecessarily.

Uldrek's mouth curved in the first real smile I'd seen from him all night. "Meet Ghost," he said, reaching up to scratch behind one of the creature's ears. The ram leaned into the touch with surprising gentleness.

I stared, momentarily distracted from my exhaustion. "He's... beautiful."

"Temperamental. Doesn't like anyone." A beat. "Used to be a war mount. Like me, really." There was fondness in his voice, but also a quiet understanding that went beyond mere animal and owner.

Before I could respond, Uldrek moved to Ghost's side, running a hand along the ram's flank. "Can you lift your arms?" he asked me. "Or will it hurt too much?"

"I can manage," I said.

He nodded, then took me by the waist and lifted me onto Ghost’s broad back.

The ram stood perfectly still, not even shifting under my weight.

There was no saddle—just a simple riding pad secured by a belt around the creature's middle.

Uldrek swung up behind me with practiced ease, settling me between his arms as he took hold of a leather cord that served as reins.

His chest was warm against my back, solid and steady.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his breath stirring my hair.

I was far from comfortable—I ached everywhere, my hands throbbed beneath their bandages, and I was balanced on the back of a massive war ram. But I was alive. I was free. And Uldrek was with me.

"Yes," I said, letting myself lean back against him. "Let's go home."

He made a soft clicking sound, and Ghost moved forward, his gait surprisingly smooth for such a large animal. We left the inn behind, following a narrow path that eventually joined the main road back toward Everwood.