Page 28

Chapter

Sixteen

NIKOLAS

I half-ran, half-stumbled down the road with Ezabell at my side. Helios kept pace with us, his body shining as brightly as the rising sun.

Viraxes’s curse burned in my veins. Every heartbeat sent more fire shooting across my chest. I’d expected to die when it flared to life shortly after Dain collapsed.

But the magic had spread more slowly, as if the curse wanted me to suffer watching Dain die before it finished me off.

The burn had intensified through the night.

And yet, it…eased now. Not much, but enough to notice. It had to be my proximity to Ezabell. Hope crested over the waves of despair that threatened to claw me under. If being near her worked for me, it would work for Dain. It had to.

“How did you find me?” Ezabell panted, the ends of her red scarf fluttering.

I met her eyes. “You’re not as invisible as you might think.

” When her expression went perplexed, I gestured to the path.

“You drift left on the road, leave deeper prints when you’re angry, and your right boot has a little nick in the heel.

It was enough.” And I’d been catching rabbits for a long time.

She stared. Then she focused on the road, which was little more than a dirt track. “How much farther?”

“Just ahead,” I said, pointing to a cluster of thatched roofs tucked between the trees. “I was lucky to find a village. If I hadn’t…” I stopped, unable to speak my worst fear aloud. Nearly living it had been bad enough. “I would’ve carried Dain all the way to Saldu,” I finished.

Helios streaked into our path, forcing me to stop to avoid slamming into him. His jacket swirled, his chest blazing like a bonfire before reappearing. “If you hurt her?—”

“I’d die first,” I said, meaning it. “I hurt Ezabell once, Helios, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

He blinked, clearly startled that I’d used his proper name.

“No harm will come to her,” I said. “I vow it.”

His lips thinned, and I braced for him to fling an insult. But he looked at Ezabell. “I’ll be close by,” he said, then streaked away.

There was no time to ponder his restraint. “This way,” I told Ezabell, hurrying to a gap in the worn fence that circled the village. The inn waited at the end of a row of squat, crumbling buildings, its flaking sign barely legible.

“It’s not a brothel,” I murmured to Ezabell as I ushered her inside.

The common room was deserted except for an old man asleep behind the bar. His snores followed us as we climbed a creaking, narrow staircase to the second floor. Worry climbed with me, visions of Dain’s ashen face filling my mind.

My hand shook as I tried to open the door, the key rattling in the lock.

“Here,” Ezabell murmured, putting her hand over mine. “Let me.”

I stepped aside. She opened the door, and I rushed into the room. Dain lay on his back on the narrow bed, his face pale and his lips cracked. His eyes were closed. The curse webbed all the way to his chin, its glow brighter than the sun coming through the window.

“Gods,” Ezabell breathed. She rushed to the bed and smoothed a hand over his brow. The moment she touched him, light snapped between them. Magic shoved me backward, my shoulder slamming into the door frame.

“Again,” I croaked, my heart pounding and my gaze fixed on the bed.

Ezabell pulled the sheet down to Dain’s waist. She pressed both hands to his bare chest, magic crackling as she made contact. He jolted, a barking cough erupting from his throat. His eyes flew open, his gaze wild and unfocused. Color rushed into his face as he sucked in a deep breath.

Relief buckled my knees, and I caught myself against the door.

Dain gazed up at Ezabell with wonder in his eyes. “Are you real?” he croaked. “Or am I dead?”

“You’re alive,” she said, sitting on the bed. She took his hand, and light flared between their palms. The sickly yellow rivers retreated beneath his skin.

I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, tipping my head down to examine my own chest. The curse receded in my veins too.

Dain shifted, struggling to sit up. I crossed to the bed and stuffed pillows behind his back.

He was still warm, but not burning. Purple smudges darkened the skin beneath his eyes, but the glassy, feverish look was gone.

With his hair loose around his shoulders, he looked like one of the pirates who terrorized the Iron Sea.

“How did you find us?” he asked Ezabell in a rasping voice.

She hesitated. “Nikolas found me. He said you were dying.”

Dain looked at me, his blue eyes dipping to my chest still visible between my opened shirt. “How did you know this would work?”

“I didn’t,” I said honestly. Relief loosened my knees again, and I rounded the bed and leaned a hip on Dain’s other side. Taking his hand, I kissed his knuckles. “I had to try. I won’t lose you.”

A flush rose beneath the golden stubble shadowing his jaw. He rubbed his thumb over mine. “Well, you didn’t. You’re stuck with me.”

Ezabell watched us. Quiet settled over the room. Accusations hovered in the air.

“I think you might be stuck with us, too,” I said, meeting her eyes across Dain’s body.

Her expression didn’t change. “Is that supposed to be a jest?”

Damn. I was messing everything up. “A poor one,” I said.

“I’m good at those.” When she merely stared at me, I drew an uneven breath.

“I don’t know how you healed us, but you did.

If I had to guess, I’d say your Dokimasi wants us with you.

Elven magic must be stronger than Viraxes’s curse.

For better or worse, Dain and I have some kind of role to play in your quest.”

“And now you’ve got the protection you need,” she said, her tone letting me know she’d already guessed why her connection with Dain healed him. Her slight smile didn’t reach her eyes. “How convenient.”

Pain flowed underneath her words. She hid it well, but I still heard it.

Dain always said I was good with words. Really, I was good at reading people.

I’d made a career out of observing—of waiting until the right moment to pick a pocket or cut a coin purse.

People were easily distracted by smiles and pretty words.

If I charmed them well enough, they never noticed me lightening their pockets.

For once, I wanted someone to see me—and stay.

Rising, I moved around the bed. Ezabell’s eyes flared when I sank to one knee at her feet. “I wanted the sunstone,” I said. “That part was true. But Dain didn’t. He’s been on your side all along.”

Her jaw tightened. “And yet he went along with your plan anyway.”

“Because I’m a fool,” Dain muttered.

“He’s not,” I said, looking up at Ezabell. “And he didn’t. Dain would have let Viraxes’s curse eat him alive before he betrayed you. You have my word on that, Princess.”

Her lips parted. Slowly, she turned to Dain. He regarded her steadily, his broad shoulders tan against the white pillows at his back.

She turned back to me. “What good is the word of a thief?”

It stung, but I deserved it. “I haven’t given you a reason to believe me,” I said. “But I’ll do whatever I can to earn your trust. However long it takes, Ezabell, I’ll do it. And if it takes longer than the years the gods have set aside for me, I’ll find you in another life and continue trying.”

She released a trembling breath. Sunlight from the window gilded the tips of her eyelashes.

“I’m just a human,” I said, “but I pledge myself to your cause, Ezabell Kasreneth. I will help you find the sunstone, and I’ll see to it that you take back your throne. I vow it.”

“So do I,” Dain said. She looked at him, and he gave a firm nod. “We’re yours if you’ll have us.”

She stared at us, her breathing shallow. We weren’t exactly a prize, two cursed thieves with little to offer aside from campfires and sleight of hand.

Something flickered in her eyes—grief, maybe. Or want. Not forgiveness. Not yet. That was all right. I hadn’t expected it to come that easily.

“We’ll see,” she said at last. Rising, she stepped around me.

“And you’ll stay?” Dain asked.

Ezabell stopped, her shoulders stiffening. Then she turned. “For now.”

I let a sigh ease past my lips. It wasn’t a no.

For now. It was better than I’d hoped for. Dain was alive, Viraxes’s curse was paused, and Ezabell hadn’t walked out the door.

And for now, that was enough.