I know I should give Blaise more credit than that. I know I should have more confidence in her. After all, that kiss hadn’t been without intention. She’d used it to lull Farin into a false sense of security before she pricked him with Gunter’s spindle and sent both of us barreling into this unfamiliar realm.
I asked her to kill me, and instead she bought me more time.
I understand. I really do. But I think maybe understanding, being able to walk myself through the logical sense of things, is different than believing.
It’s the believing I have a difficult time with.
Blaise’s kiss haunts me until the heat of it lulls me into a restless slumber.
I wake to a sharp pain cracking my skull.
CHAPTER 5
BLAISE
“I’m going to help you get him back.”
Evander’s voice startles me; I didn’t realize he’d entered my room. I quickly stuff Nox’s tapestry into my satchel as I pack my things for our upcoming journey to Othian.
“I don’t know what you need from me,” he says. “Where you’ll need to go to get the answers about how to cure him. And I know dealing with this nonsense about Abra and the Rip takes priority. But when the time comes for you to bring him back, I’m coming with you. As long as you want it, I’ll make sure you’re not alone.”
I blink, suddenly exhausted. “You don’t have to do that, Andy.”
He fidgets, his fingers tapping against the doorway. “I think that maybe I do.”
My heart sinks. I know why Evander’s offering this. He feels responsible for not recognizing the signs of abuse I suffered as a child. I suppose it’s true, that while he couldn’t have stopped Derek from assaulting me, he could have forced his way into the manor while my stepmother kept me locked in the attic during the entirety of my pregnancy. Could have recognized that something was very, very wrong.
But none of what happened to me is Evander’s fault.
Still. It’s nice for him to offer.
I should tell him no. Release him from his vow. Evander is sweet, but he’s always been a people-pleaser. Rash. His fae curse won’t let him out of his promise, even if he comes to regret it.
I open my mouth, about to tell him that I don’t accept that promise. Or to tell him it’s already been fulfilled by him following me all the way to Ermengarde.
But the feel of the tapestry is still at my fingertips, where I haven’t closed my satchel yet. Visions of Nox’s infinite deaths swirl across my vision.
And I realize I might need Andy’s help getting to the Rip.
Whether he knows the treachery he’s agreeing to or not.
So instead, I choke out, “Thanks, Andy.”
And when the guilt threatens to swarm me, I shove it into my satchel with Nox’s tapestry.
The wagon in which we’re to travel to Othian reminds me of the kind they use in funeral processions.
In the past few weeks, Evander and Kiran managed to construct the skeleton of the wagon out of wood coated in tar, perfect for keeping out sunlight.
At first, Kiran suggested we travel by foot. Both fae and vampires have a tendency to outperform horse-drawn wagons in speed.
I wouldn’t have been able to carry my loom without the wagon, so I convinced them the trip would go faster if we traveled without stopping, Evander and Kiran directing the wagon during the day while I slept. Then I could direct it at night.
Of course, I didn’t bring up the loom or the tapestry.
Kiran and Evander know I work on tapestries, but they’re under the impression it’s to help with my nerves. It keeps up the illusion that Abra is the one holding Nox and Zora in their sleep state.
So now, when I’m alone in the wagon and supposed to be sleeping, instead I weave.
As we reach the border of Mystral and Dwellen, the blizzard decides it’s not done with us.
Thankfully, we find a cavern in the side of the mountains large enough to pull the wagon into, protecting it from the howling storm outside.
I leave the loom and Nox’s tapestry inside the wagon, not wishing to draw more attention to it than necessary. But still, I find my mind envisioning, almost obsessively, wrenching the threads from the body of the Fabric, plucking Nox from the hands of death itself.
“I can help with that, if you’d like.” Kiran’s voice is a low rumble coming from the shadows on the other side of the cavern.
The firelight he produced with his bare hands now dances, seemingly sourceless, in the middle of the wide space. It flickers across his features, highlighting his stern jawline, the beard he’s let grow since we disembarked from Ermengarde.
It takes me a moment to understand what he means, but then he nods at my fingers. I glance down at them. They’re twisted against my skin where I’ve been pinching myself without realizing it.
“Oh.” I blink myself back to reality as I cross my arms in front of my chest. “No, that’s okay.”
Kiran frowns, cocking his head to the side slightly. “Are you sure?”
I’m honestly surprised Kiran is bringing up the power he seems to keep hidden from most people. But I suppose Evander is fast asleep in the corner.
I imagine it then, the surreal comfort that would wash over me with one touch from Kiran. He could take away the anguish twisting inside me. He wouldn’t even have to blink.
