Page 18

“A urora. Wake up.”

Aurora groaned, pulling the covers over her aching head. Merciful Triad, she felt like she’d been hit by a runaway carriage. Then had her head filled with angry bees for good measure. Then run over a second time. The sun was barely more than a hint on the horizon. No one who didn’t have to be awake at this hour bothered to leave the comfort of their beds. Even soaked with sweat and feeling miserable, the bed was far preferable to surrendering to an early start.

“Aurora.”

“Fae, it’s too early,” Aurora moaned.

“ Aurora .”

Aurora shot up with a gasp.

“Fae!”

There, at the foot of the bed. Phaedra smiled, waving at her, wearing a gown in the ancient fashion, her hair partially done up in intricate braids. She twirled, showing it off.

“What do you think?”

She was alive. Unharmed. Whole. Tears blurred her vision, emotion choking her.

“Phaedra,” Aurora sobbed, crawling out of bed. “How?”

The moment Aurora stood, her legs buckled under her like a fawn’s. She reached towards Phaedra, but her friend danced out of reach with a giggle.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

“Wait! Come back, Fae,” Aurora pleaded.

Phaedra skipped to the terrace, her long red hair bouncing with every step. As Aurora struggled to her feet, Phaedra sat on the railing of the terrace, her arms stretched wide. Her smile was dazzling, her cheeks rosy with health. Behind her, a thin orange line bled into the deep blues of the night sky. Outlined by the first rays of dawn, Phaedra was a vision of beauty. Of home. Aurora wanted nothing so much as to fall into her arms and weep, to know that all was right with the world once more. If she could just touch her, she could convince herself everything up until now, all the pain, all the horror, had been a nightmare, forgotten with the rising of the sun.

“I’m right here, Aurora.”

Aurora lurched towards her on unsteady feet, reaching towards Phaedra. As she lost her balance, Phaedra was there to steady her, their fingers intertwined.

“I thought you’d died! I thought you were gone forever. Why did you do that? Why did you take my place? It should have been me, not you! You were supposed to live, Fae! I never wanted—”

“Shhhh. It’s alright now,” Phaedra said, leaning her forehead on Aurora’s. As Aurora wept, Phaedra wrapped her arms around her. “Come with me.”

Then Phaedra pulled.

“Aurora!” Theron shouted, grabbing Aurora around the waist and dragging her from Phaedra’s grasp.

“No!” Aurora cried as Phaedra fell from the terrace into the gardens far below. She struggled in Theron’s hold, fighting for freedom. “Fae! Fae! ”

“It wasn’t her,” he said, his voice calm.

“No! She fell! She might be hurt! Let me go!”

“It wasn’t her, Aurora. Look.” Theron walked towards the edge with her secure in his arms. Aurora frantically searched the ground below but there was no one.

“No, she was right there. She was here,” Aurora sobbed. Despair ripped through her fragile heart, all the more vicious now that she’d been given a ray of hope.

“It was a spirit. An angry one. They see into your heart and present you with what you want most in order to bring you harm,” he explained, his tone gentle.

Theron carried her back to the bed and sat her on the edge. Aurora curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, and wept. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want anyone to see her as her heart shattered anew. She wanted to be back home with Phaedra and her favourite book, in a world without spirits, or Drakon, or the fate that tied her thread to all the worst things in the Tapestry.

Theron whispered to the attendant at the door before returning to her side. He sat beside her without a word, his warm hand on the back of her neck, keeping vigil as she grieved. She’d kept herself together this whole time, never once coming apart. How could she have? Surrounded by predators, in constant pain, she’d merely survived. Grief had been a luxury for a prisoner in this gilded cage. But now it poured out of her, her walls irreparably fractured. And like a fool trying to clean up shattered glass with her bare hands, Aurora cut herself on every memory.

Phaedra’s last message, her death, played in her mind over and over. The moments before the device took her back in time, her fall, repeated over and over. Why hadn’t she been allowed to die? Was Fate really so cruel? She wished she could scream it aloud, but she knew the answer.

If her fever-addled memories could be believed, her wild magic had exploded from her last night, leaving her trapped and suffering without Theron’s magic to ease her. It wasn’t until she’d drained her magic dry and passed out that she’d had any relief from the pain. Fate truly was the cruellest of the goddesses. What was the point of a magic that would drive her mad with visions, or trap her in time, or cruellest of all, give her enough hope to want to survive through the suffering ahead? Magic was an untameable beast in her chest, and she never wanted to be at its mercy again.

Through all her dark thoughts, Theron sat at her side, his warmth seeping into her. She cried until the tears had leeched the worst of the poison from her system, until the raw, aching wound in her heart had been numbed. For now.

“Drink this.” Theron offered her a lukewarm cup.

“What is it?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“It’ll help with the fever and pain.”

If only she could have swiped a bottle of wine and drowned her sorrows, but in her current state, the hangover might do her in for good. Aurora sipped at the bitter brew.

As the sun rose, bells rang throughout the city.

“What do they mean?”

“They’re plague bells, warning travellers not to enter the city, and for its inhabitants not to leave their homes if they can help it. There’s an outbreak of torchlight fever.”

All the more reason she should escape while she had the chance. If there were a plague, then the temple of Knowledge would be overrun with the sick. Orithyia would no doubt be too busy to send anyone after her, even if she did realise Aurora was gone. Aurora sipped the bitter drink. Wait, Theron had called it a fever. Then…

“Is that…”

Had she been infected with this plague? The fever she’d experienced last night was unlike any other. She’d been certain it would kill her.

“Yes.”

“Why did you help me?”

She’d given him the location of the ancient artefacts. It was one of her most precious pieces of information, and he could easily use it to bargain his way out of the guest palace and back to his kingdom. If he’d let her die, then he could have that information all to himself, with no chance of it being leaked to someone else, and no one left to repay.

“I had it as a child, so I can’t be reinfected.”

Aurora frowned. He was being obtuse.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

He raised a brow at her, a twinkle in his gold eyes.

“Do I need a reason to save your life?”

Aurora sighed. She waited until the attendant left their post. Some things shouldn’t be said while others were around to overhear them.

“I should leave the city while I can.”

“You won’t be able to. The city will be locked tight against people who might flee and spread the fever.”

“For how long?”

“A week, if we’re lucky.”

Another week? Locked up with this man who she knew she shouldn’t trust but whose actions were honourable? She prayed for the strength to resist his kindness and attentions. But maybe she didn’t have to… Maybe she could outright ask for an alliance, instead of playing games she wasn’t certain she could properly win. Aurora didn’t want to have to become someone she didn’t recognise.

“Would you be honest with me, if I asked it of you?”

“That depends on what you ask.”

Frustrating man.

“Why save me when you know about the artefacts? You’re intelligent enough to use them to get out of here and back home.”

“You’re the only civilised person in the whole of Viridis. Is it so strange that I desire your company?”

“Enough to run yourself ragged keeping me alive? Yes. You’re a king, and while you might not have Viridis at your beck and call, you more than likely have some of your people even here.”

He slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Watch what you say. Even the walls have ears here, Aurora.”

She pulled his hand away, rolling her eyes.

“Your ears aren’t as sensitive as mine. I wouldn’t have begun this conversation if I weren’t certain no one else could hear us.”

He frowned, puzzled by her.

“What is it you want from me?” he asked.

“I want an ally I can trust enough not to turn on me before I’ve done what I need to.”

“To slay your beast?”

“Yes. I thought Orithyia would be that ally, but I was mistaken.”

“So you betrayed her in the hopes of purchasing my loyalty the other day?” he asked, brows raised as a smile turning up the corners of his lips.

Why did that make him happy? Shouldn’t he be angry that she’d tried to manipulate him? Shouldn’t he be wary of her for giving away temple secrets?

“To prove that you would get as much benefit from a partnership as I would,” Aurora replied, her heart racing. Would he be satisfied with just her knowledge, or would he demand more?

“What do you propose?”

“My knowledge in return for your help defeating Drakon.”

“This beast seems troublesome. Are you certain your knowledge will be enough recompense for my efforts?”

If the veritable hoard of artefacts wasn’t enough, she doubted anything else she could tell him would suffice. There was no guarantee that he would believe she could see glimpses of the future, or that she’d come from his future and knew his fate. Orithyia had kept her alive because it cost her nothing to do so. But would Theron act with such cold cunning, and not just toss her to the wolves?

What a mess. If only the hero of the holy sword were here, then she would have a true ally. Whoever, or wherever, they were in Trisia, she hoped she could meet them. No records existed of their name, nor had any statues depicting them survived the millennia. Aurora had to hope she would be able to spot the holy weapon to identify the wielder. Only together could they deal with Drakon. She had to remind herself that Theron was merely a stepping stone to that outcome, and while his resources could be invaluable, she also couldn’t afford to slip and fall.

“Never mind. I’m not sure I could afford your loyalty anyway. I’ll return to my room. Whatever your motives, thank you for saving me, Your Majesty.” As she got up to leave, he caught her wrist.

“You asked why I saved you. My brother caught torchlight fever as an adult—a death sentence. Just like you. Except this was a time before we had any inkling of how to treat it. He didn’t survive. I didn’t want to watch someone worth saving die like that in front of me if I could help it.”

She put a hand over his.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Worth saving . She blinked in surprise.

“You asked for honesty, and I would count myself lucky to be your ally. But I have my own conditions.”

Aurora swallowed nervously. Could she really be so fortunate as to count a king, doomed though he may be, as an ally? All without the need to make herself his plaything?

“What conditions?”

“That you help me get back to Aureum. And that you remain with me until then. I vow to protect you in the meantime.”

She gripped the fabric of her nightgown. All the stories said he was meant to return to his kingdom soon enough, so it wouldn’t even cost her anything, except a delay to her travels, which, given the sound of the bells, was unavoidable anyway. And the protection of a king was worth its weight in gold. Would it really be so simple? Had something finally gone right for her? It was almost too good to trust, and yet, she couldn’t find a reason to deny him, except if his demands kept her here until it was too late.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with what I need to do, then I agree.”

And not a moment too soon. The next attendant had come to wait outside the door. Aurora leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“The walls have sprouted ears again.”

“Then let’s put them to good use.” Theron stood and marched towards the door. “Bring us a warm bath, new clothes, new sheets, and breakfast.”

She was about to tell him that it didn’t work like that here in the vivarium, where the baths were shared, new clothes a rarity, new sheets earned and all meals served in the dining hall under a watchful eye. But to her shock, the attendant not only rushed off to do just that, but did so without any rudeness. He chuckled at her open-mouthed stare.

“If you think my being a king warrants better treatment, save your shock. This is because I warned them of the plague last night, and took it upon myself to care for you in their stead while keeping you sequestered here to prevent any spread. Had I not, many of their friends and family would not have been able to flee the city before the gates were shut this morning.”

“Am I still a danger to others?”

“No, the red mark is gone, but leaving this room would make them feel uneasy.”

“Still, I should go back.”

“Why? So you can sit alone in your room? Is my company so odious?” He grinned.

“It’s not that…” she said. But she always kept her artefact close at hand. The idea of being parted from it, potentially allowing someone to steal her only link back to her own time, was too much to bear. “I have very little left in the world, but it’s all in that room.”

“I see,” he said, going to the door once more. “Clear the hallways. We’re gathering her things and bringing them here.”

A call went through the guest palace to clear the way. Theron held out his hand for her.

“Madam fairy.”

Aurora took it, leaning on him for support. Her fever was worse than she thought, for by the time she arrived at her room, a new layer of sweat had her nightgown clinging to her. She grabbed her hidden pack, stuffed her new artefact inside, grateful it had remained hidden, and then added in the few other odds and ends she’d been provided. Theron carried her pack as she all but hung off him for the return journey. By the time they were back, a tub with a folding screen, a change of clothes and food had been placed inside his room.

“I’ll sit on the terrace to give you a chance to bathe, Your Majesty.”

“You look like you’d get carried away by a stuff breeze. No, you’re going to bathe first so you don’t fall asleep and drown in the tub while I’m not looking.”

She had no energy to fight him on it. If he preferred chivalry, she wouldn’t protest. The bath did feel nice, as did scrubbing herself clean without worrying about a leering audience. It was getting out of the tub that proved troublesome. The warm waters were intrinsically soothing for her aching joints.

“You haven’t fallen asleep, have you?”

Aurora was jolted out of her dozing by Theron’s voice.

“Almost,” she admitted, hauling herself from the tub and drying off as best she could.

She ran a comb through her hair, slipped into a gown and left her hair to dry as she approached the small table seated near the window. The food didn’t appear particularly appetizing in her current state.

“Eat,” Theron warned her as he left to bathe himself.

She picked at the platter before her, not really tasting much of anything, before she gave up and laid down on the bed.

The bed .

That they’d shared last night.

Aurora covered her face as a heat wholly unrelated to her fever crept up her neck. It hadn’t been like that, she reminded herself. She’d been severely ill and he’d been taking care of her, and they’d both been far too exhausted to do anything but sleep. Now that they’d established themselves as allies, there would be no more questions about potentially illicit goings-on between them. Besides, he couldn’t possibly want her to remain in his room overnight again. There was simply no good reason to get worked up over this.

Theron walked out from behind the privacy screen, his long, wet hair a veritable bird’s nest. She’d noticed the other day that he’d tied it up, but that it had been messy then as well. He scowled at the comb before abandoning it.

“Are you not going to brush your hair?”

“It’s a tangled mess. I’ll have one of the attendants do it later,” he muttered.

Aurora giggled. He really was a king.

“I’m surprised you managed to bathe yourself, Your Majesty,” she teased.

“My hair is a mess because I spent two weeks living as a Viridian general’s captive,” he growled.

Aurora smiled and held out her hand, not at all intimidated. He was only sulking, after all.

“Give me the comb and some oil, and sit there.” She pointed to a place at the foot of the bed.

“One night in my bed and already you order me around.” He smirked, handing her the items and seating himself. Aurora sat behind him and began working the comb through the ends of his hair. Though it was of the deepest crimson, brushing it reminded her of her time with Phaedra and her friend’s red hair. Goddesses knew how many times she’d been roped into making her presentable mere moments before some important function, and all after they’d just come from some ill-advised adventure or another.

“We’re allies now. You don’t have to flirt with me anymore,” she reminded him as she worked out the first big knot. Or was she reminding herself?

“I flirt with you because you’re attractive.”

Aurora gritted her teeth as another blush crept up her neck. She did not need him saying such things in his deep voice. Especially when he was either being flippant or manipulative.

“I doubt that.”

“You asked for my honesty.” He shrugged.

“I honestly look like I’m half dead. If that’s what you find attractive, then I have grave concerns for your taste,” she retorted.

He laughed.

“I’m also not the only one flirting.”

Did he consider insults flirting? Goddesses help her. In any case, it was best to be direct and clear with such misunderstandings, especially as they had a tendency to get more complicated the longer things were left unsaid.

“Only yesterday. I thought I had to, in order to gain your help. It’s different now.”

“And what about before that?”

Before yesterday? They’d only known each other a day now. It seemed like so much longer, given all that happened.

“Before?”

“When you came into the baths and got an eyeful. Given your reaction then, I had assumed the attraction was mutual. Was I mistaken?”

It had not been her intent. She’d had other things on her mind then. Admittedly, she hadn’t fully thought through her actions, desperate as she’d been for answers. The people of this time were singularly unconcerned with nudity, unlike herself, so she’d not thought he would mind. And when he’d been standing there, fully nude instead of submerged, it had come as a great shock. Try as she might, the image of him had been branded into her mind. Some things could never be unseen.

“I—”

“And do try to be honest.”