Page 37 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 37

Matthias

B eing poisoned wasn’t all that bad—like a bad hangover without the initial enjoyment.

At first it was like being rocked to sleep, rhythmic swaying as I sank deeper and deeper into peaceful darkness.

And then it ceased.

How long ago, I didn’t know. Unlike my room in the castle, my subconscious had no giant clock available. But the rocking had stopped long enough for me to find a new comfort in the stillness.

Here in the warm darkness, there were no enchanted plants trying to strangle me, no asshole fae trying to kill me, no dragon shifters trying to eat me.

But it wasn’t completely peaceful, as my thoughts spiraled into a chaotic mess.

Had Asher gotten me out of the forest?

Had he found a medallion for me?

How did Korben get the poison?

Were all the daggers poisoned?

What happened to Graham?

And Oryn? Had he made it back to the castle?

Was I still in the tournament?

As if in answer to my multitude of questions, a voice slipped in among my thoughts, faint and almost inaudible, as if it were tucked somewhere in the shadows of my mind.

“You’re lucky, it seems,” she said.

Calla? The queen? Why was she here in my head?

I tried to pry my eyes open, but they wouldn’t budge. Attempted to lift a finger, but nothing.

Maybe this was just a byproduct of the poison, though Connor had never mentioned hallucinations. Shared dreams, sure, but that was from his bond with Lieke, not from the poisoning.

Maybe I’m talking to myself.

In Calla’s voice? Unlikely.

Hearing what you want to hear?

Of all the voices my mind could use to process shit, why not hers?

“How you won Asher over, I don’t know,” she continued. “But you’re still in the tournament because of him. Never thought I’d see the day when he befriended anyone new.”

Silence settled around me again, long enough for me to wonder if she’d gone—and to be disappointed by that prospect.

I scoffed to myself.

It’s just a bit lonely here.

Not like I want her specifically.

When she finally spoke again, my heart perked up at first—delighted that she hadn’t left—until her words sank in, like a barb pushed slowly into my chest.

“I don’t want you here.”

Why did that simple statement hurt so much?

“I don’t need a king to rule beside me, yet here I am.” She paused to release a huffy growl. “No choices. No options. No freedom. A queen should be able to rule as she wants; not have to bend to the will of an Assembly of peasants. I should have just killed them all in that meeting. Killed them all and been done with it.”

Killed them all.

As much as I wanted that to be an admittance of guilt so I could finish my work here and go home, I couldn’t trust anything I heard in this condition. For all I knew, this was my own consciousness putting words into her imaginary mouth.

But then a weight settled on my hand and squeezed my fingers. Her breath tickled my ear, and I swore I caught the unmistakable sound of a tongue wetting lips. I almost chided myself for letting my imagination run amok, but then she whispered.

“You might be the only good one left, so please don’t die on me.”

Everything vanished. The weight. The breath. The voice.

And I was alone again with a new tangle of questions.

Eventually the world faded back into my consciousness. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, but the first thing I noticed was the pungent scent of smoldering herbs. Second was my pants were missing, followed shortly by the realization that someone was fondling my thigh.

Slitting my eyes open just enough to verify someone was actually there and I wasn’t dreaming it, I pulled my chapped lips apart. My mouth had gone uncomfortably dry, but I managed to croak out my words.

“I prefer to be awake when a female’s touching me.”

She didn’t pull away as I expected—didn’t even seem surprised to hear me speak, as she continued to rub something warm on my wound.

“You needed your rest, general,” she said, her voice an odd combination of sweet and sharp. It reminded me of Mrs. Bishop’s actually, where in the same tone she could both commend and reprimand quite effectively.

I pried my eyes open more, thankful for the dim light, though my head pounded all the same. Dark stone surrounded me—on the walls, the ceiling, and presumably the floor as well. My lips curved downward when I realized the female beside me wasn’t the queen, but some fae I didn’t recognize. Maybe it had just been my imagination.

Or maybe you’ve been out so long she left, because she had better things to do than sit around and wait for your sorry ass to wake up.

Either way, for whatever reason, it wasn’t her dressing my wounds now.

“And you’re a healer? I hope?” I asked, resting my head back and staring at the ceiling.

“One of the three here in Arenysen, yes. Along with my sister. I’m Brit,” she said.

“How long have I been here?”

She hummed for a moment, as if calculating the time that had passed. Had it really been that long?

“Five days. While the antidote to the poison took effect rather quickly, it took quite a while for your body to recover from the damage done. Thankfully, Jocelyn is quite adept at dealing with toxins. Without her…”

“I’d still be out,” I finished her thought, but in my periphery I noticed she shook her head.

“You’d be dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

I breathed out an empty laugh. “Is she here? I should probably thank her.”

“No, she’s busy elsewhere.” A heavy sigh fell from the healer. “She could use it, honestly. She’s beaten herself up pretty badly for not being able to help more with the other male.”

Oryn?

Jerkily I propped myself up on my elbows, a wince pulling my face tight as fresh pain shot through my hip. I ignored it—and ignored Brit’s hand flying to my chest as she attempted to force me to lie back down. I glanced around the room, turning my head this way and that but finding nothing but a handful of empty beds and cluttered work tables covered with bottles and bandages at the far end.

“Mr. Lain is not here.”

“But he was? What happened? Did he?—”

“He’s been taken to his room upstairs. We felt it better to have him in a more comfortable environment for his last days.”

“His last days?” I asked. “I need to see him.” I shifted toward the edge of the stiff cot. Again, the healer tried to stop me, her hand pressing firmly against my shoulder.

“You need more rest,” Brit said, though not as forcefully as I expected.

I slid my legs over the side. “I’d prefer to rest in my room, like him.”

Brit slumped in defeat, her hands falling to her sides as she shrugged. “Fine. I’ll let Her Majesty and the general know your decision.”

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I offered the healer a half-smile. “You give in too easily.”

She shrugged again. “I have better uses of my energy, and you’re a grown male, supposedly.”

Her eyes flashed down quickly to my waist before lifting again, this time to the ceiling rather than meeting my gaze. I twisted my lips into a smirk. “Quite grown.”

“Mr. Orelian,” a harsher voice called from the doorway. There stood another fae, who looked strikingly similar to the one still blushing beside me, except this one had a dourer way about her that reminded me of my sister when she was lecturing me.

“You must be the sister,” I said.

“Ami.” She nodded crisply, her lips sliding into a stern smile that matched her grim stare. “Glad to see you’re awake.” By her tone and her rigid form, this female didn’t seem to know what the word glad meant at all.

“Thank you.” I pushed myself up off the cot slowly, keeping my hands on it until I could trust my legs to support me. “I was just leaving though.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you waited until we cleared this with General Marlowe and Her Majesty first.”

“And I’d be more comfortable if I had my pants.”

“Of course. Apologies,” Ami noted before gesturing to Brit who quickly slipped around to the end of the cot and retrieved my clothing from where they’d stashed them. Brit smiled sheepishly as she silently ducked out of the room, leaving me alone with her sibling who seemed wholly disinterested as she watched me dress.

“Speaking of Her Majesty,” I started, straightening my collar before smoothing out the fabric of my shirt. Ami lifted a brow in question. “Did she happen to visit me here?”

Ami’s expression remained as unenthusiastic as ever. She pursed her lips as she breathed deeply. “Not that I’m aware of. She doesn’t?—”

I waved my fingers in the air to cut her off. “No worries. Must have just…” I let my words peter off. This healer would probably force me to remain here longer if I admitted to dreaming of the queen or hearing voices.

Ami eyed me curiously, as if trying to deduce what information I had withheld, but she must have deemed it unimportant, because soon enough she gave an almost kind smile. “If you’re set on leaving, at least go speak with General Marlowe first.”

“I will do just that,” I said and dipped my chin in gratitude. “Before I do, though, can I ask something?”

She said nothing but gave the slightest of nods.

“The poison. Had you seen it before?” I asked as casually as I could.

Frowning, she said, “Only in the samples your healers sent us to study. As you know, we didn’t encounter the same attacks here as you did in Emeryn.”

“Did you ever encounter it outside of what we sent?” I asked.

Suspicion clouded her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Merely curious how you acquired an antidote,” I noted, remembering how Minerva had saved Connor by magically stripping the poison from his blood. As far as I knew, she was the only one in this world who possessed the power to do anything like that.

“Jocelyn—our other healer—has a natural talent with concocting remedies, and she spent the last year studying that dagger your kingdom sent us. She worked to extract the poison from the blade and manipulate it to create a counteragent. Of course, it had gone untested until you showed up.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What about with Brennan? Was he poisoned with something different altogether?”

Ami stiffened, standing taller with her chin lifted, but her expression remained blank, her hands relaxed and casually folded in front of her. Her tone, however, held a tinge of defensiveness. “Who said he was poisoned?”

My thoughts churned uneasily, and I had to act quickly before she grew even more suspicious. “Oh, no one,” I lied. If she didn’t know the Durands had been notified of suspected poisoning, I certainly wasn’t going to be the one who warned her. “Coming from Emeryn and years of battling poison-wielding rebels, and it’s hard not to simply assume.”

“Assumptions are dangerous, general,” she said.

“Well, if it wasn’t poison, how did he die?” I asked, leaning toward her slightly.

This time the healer’s knuckles whitened as she squeezed her hands together, and somehow her tone became even less hospitable. “I don’t think it prudent that I divulge such information to a competitor. I’ve already said too much as it is. You should go.”

Raising my palms to her I bowed my head once more before moving for the door. Her expression remained stoic even as I stumbled slightly with my first steps. It wasn’t until I was out in the hallway that I realized I had no idea where I was within the castle and no clue how to find Isa from here. If this castle was at all like the Durands’, then the healers’ quarters were likely on a lower floor near the kitchen. I sniffed the air, noting the faint aroma of roasting vegetables. Yes, the kitchen was close. Now if I could just find some stairs…

No sooner had I rounded the next corner than something—or someone—shoved me hard into the stone wall. My head smacked against it with a gut-turning crack. Instinctively, my eyes clamped shut, and I barely opened them in time to see a fist—albeit blurry with my distorted vision—careening toward me. I attempted to duck, but my movements were sluggish. The attack grazed off my cheekbone so the knuckles slammed into my ear.

Growling, I spun away from my attacker, but his other fist swung low, landing square on my leg wound. My knee buckled, dropping me to the floor in a groaning, pathetic heap. The male reared his leg back to kick me, and gritting my teeth against the pain, I grabbed his other leg with both hands and jerked it out from under him.

“Fuck!” he growled as he crashed to the ground, but he pivoted on his backside and sent a foot straight into my face. My hands flew up to cradle my nose, which was already gushing blood all over the floor.

Maybe I should have stayed with the healers after all.

The other male scrambled to his feet and landed another kick to my gut, forcing me to curl up to protect myself. I tried to look up to see who it was, but my face was quickly swelling, obscuring my vision even more. Then the familiar sound of a blade clearing its sheath hit my ears, and every muscle tensed as I tried to find any way out of this fucking mess. The rustling of fabric and creaking of joints told me whoever he was had kneeled beside me.

“You were supposed to die in the forest,” he said, and my mind fought to connect the voice to its owner. “But apparently a dragon, a haunted forest, and even a poisoned fucking blade can’t kill you.”

Korben.

Of course he’d try to finish the job in between trials.

I cleared my throat, shifting it into a weak laugh. “What can I say? I’m a stubborn ass.”

“Stubborn or not, another dose of poison and you won’t be walking away this time.”

I pulled the corner of my mouth back into what was meant to be a half-smile. “Offering to carry me? How kind of you.”

A roar burst out of his chest, and I looked up to see him lifting the blade up by his ear, preparing to drive it into me. Time seemed to slow. The flames from the wall sconces reflected on his dagger’s edge, and then vanished as the candles were snuffed out and the corridor filled with an unnatural darkness I’d experienced once before––back in the forest when I’d first arrived.

Except this time, they weren’t a soft blanket called to soothe and comfort. These shadows were cold and hard, like icy daggers pressing in from all sides, churning bitterly.

Before Korben could stab blindly at me, I rolled away from him, hissing as the floor dug into my injury.

“What’s hap—” Korben’s voice snapped off like a twig beneath a boot, and a second later came the dull sound of his body falling to the floor.

Almost immediately, the shadows cleared, and I opened my mouth to greet her with a Hi Killer or something equally charming, but the hallway was empty.