I have to will my muscles to obey me, but I turn my head, where I find my brother lying beside me. He’s alert, his eyes boiling with rage, but he also seems to be struggling to move.
We exchange a look, and then he peels his head away from me.
“I really am sorry, kids.” My father’s figure appears, his silhouette a shadow forming in the haze of the smoke. “I wanted to care for you. Always thought I’d be overjoyed if you showed up at my door. But the two of you…you’re just a reminder. A reminder that your mother never loved me. That she used me to get her pregnant, used me to produce heirs for her husband. I thought…I thought seeing you would change that. That I’d glimpse myself in you. But all I see is what she took from me.” He swallows, then turns toward the fog, tilting his head. Another pair of figures appear from the haze. “I really am sorry. I did try,” he says again, as if he thinks that means anything at all.
I reach for my fire, but hard as I try to dig for it, my hands come up empty.
Where is it? A byproduct of the magical incense, perhaps, one that hampers magic while it’s being absorbed into the bloodstream?
I fight against the restraints digging into my torso, arms, and legs, but it’s no use. Not when I’m struggling to even get my limbs to obey me.
The males above us wear masks that match my father’s, ones that I assume filter out the effects of the incense.
“Should we dispose of the spare?” one of them asks, nodding toward Fin.
Panic rises in my chest, but the other shakes his head. “No, we have commands to bring both of them back alive. But we’re allowed to torture this one if that one misbehaves,” he says, glaring at me.
Commands? Commands from who?
They grab Fin first, hauling him by the ankles and shoulders until they’re out of sight. The lopsided door thumps against its frame, slapping against the side of the house as the howling wind flings it around.
My father turns to look over his shoulder, then kneels down, his voice hardly a whisper. “Don’t worry, son. Look to your gut for answers. It won’t lead you astray.”
Right. Because his gut has so obviously led him in the right direction.
He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but before he can finish, the men return.
They haul me away and stuff me into a cart next to my brother.
Footsteps fade as they approach the house.
There’s the rumble of my father’s voice, sounding confused that they’ve returned.
Then there’s a scream, and the squirting of blood.
And the sound of something wet and pliable dropping against the floor.
The sound of my father’s heart, still beating as it was wrenched from his body, taps against my ears the entire journey.
CHAPTER 54
ASHA
By the time Blaise’s venom wears off, we’re miles away from Rivre.
From the bloodbath that surely ensued as my friends tried to rescue me.
The wagon bumps across the uneven terrain, and shooting pain darts up my back, but at least Az allows me to sit upright.
I suppose he has more room now that Nox’s body is gone, though Nox’s sister’s body remains with us.
It makes my chest tight, thinking about her. As helpless as I am to suffer Az’s whims, at least I’m awake to know what’s being done to me.
Az watches me from across the dark wagon, though I can’t help but feel he looks distracted, an opaque sheen covering his sage-green eyes like a chrysalis over a moth.
I knew even in my stupor that consuming the mere’s blood had changed him.
There’s a subtle glow to him now, as if moonlight itself inhabits his body, though it’s faded somewhat in the hours we’ve been in transit. I’m not sure if that’s because the effects of the mere blood are working their way through his system, or because we’re traveling further from the Rip.
The Rip.
The Rip where my friends’ bodies have surely joined Gwenyth’s by now.
I try my utmost to slice through the fog that Blaise’s venom wrapped around my mind during the ambush. As if remembering just who it was who tried to save me would allow me to honor them better in their death.
I still can’t place the voice, hard as I try.
Fates, I just hope Amity wasn’t nearby.
Amity.
My hands are still bound, my mouth still gagged, but as I wriggle around, as if to adjust myself, I can feel the bulge of a belt against my belly. Amity’s survival kit.
It’s a good thing Blaise never let Az search my person. Though it’s about the only thing I can thank the traitor for.
Not that I’m convinced Amity’s survival pack will actually help given my situation, but it’s a comfort to me, nonetheless.
“I can’t untie you, but I can at least offer you this,” Az says, misunderstanding the reason for my fidgeting. He leans across the wagon, brushing his fingers through my hair and untying my gag. I wince at his touch. My scalp is still sore from where I was dragged across the ground by my hair by a mere.
