But this tattoo is different. It looks to be the roofscape of a village, but the lines have been twisted, curled into a script that’s somewhat shaky, but still legible.
She’s taking me to Mystral, says the script.
“It could be a trap, a diversion,” says Lydia, but Marcus shakes his head, grinding his teeth as he fights off a spasm.
“It’s Piper’s handwriting.”
“The queen could be threatening her,” I offer.
“No. Piper doesn’t bend to threats,” he says, and his voice is so resolute, I can’t help but believe him.
Lydia strokes the hilt of her blade. “This makes no sense. Why take Piper to Mystral?”
Her gaze snaps to the side as Blaise rushes out of Ellie and Evander’s tent, tears streaming down her face.
My heart plummets at the realization of what Blaise must have just discovered.
“I need to talk to Blaise,” Lydia says. “Figure out what’s in Mystral that the queen needs Piper for.” She makes to run for Blaise when Marcus’s breathing catches my attention.
“We’ll need to leave as soon as possible,” he says, and I nod, my heart breaking at the pain on his face.
“Right, I’ll help you pack.” I start toward his and Amity’s tent.
I get there before he does, and when I do, Amity jolts up from her cot.
“What are you doing?” She stares at me as I start throwing her things into bags.
“You need to help me pack. Abra is taking Piper to Mystral, not to the Rip. Piper just sent Marcus a message.”
Amity goes still, rather than helping. “We’re turning around?”
I catch my breath, looking up at the child for the first time. She’s shaking, large coins of water dripping from her eyes.
Marcus comes stumbling into the tent, nods at me in thanks, but before he can do much else Amity starts weeping.
“No. We can’t go. We can’t turn around,” she says, her small voice, usually so calm, choked with panic.
Marcus goes still, then kneels in front of his daughter, holding her hands. “Your mother is in Mystral, Amity. She needs us to help her.”
Amity shakes her head, almost violently. “But…but if we don’t get to the Rip…”
Amity’s holding her stomach now, panic washing the already pale child of any color.
“Amity, kid.” Marcus wraps his arms around her and cradles her to his chest. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Between sniffles and choking coughs, Amity manages to point to a journal atop her cot. I reach for it, flipping through the thick pages until I come across the most recent entry, at which point I realize it’s not a journal at all, but a grimoire full of potion recipes.
Rivrean flax is circled in bold ink twice. My eye traces where Amity has underlined notes like, “known for its magical healing properties,” and, “has been rumored to keep degenerative diseases from progressing.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip as I look over the top of the book at Marcus, whose brow is lined with the unspoken question, What in Alondria is going on?
My mouth goes dry, but I turn the book to face him. His copper eyes scan the text and he sighs, which triggers a coughing fit that has Amity’s sobs intensifying.
“Please,” Amity begs. “I don’t want you to die. I should have told you earlier, but I was afraid I’d be wrong. And I don’t… I can’t—”
Marcus’s face is full of shock, but he nods his head, running his hands over the back of Amity’s head as she weeps into his shoulder.
“Lydia can go after Piper,” I offer, though I feel extremely out of place in the middle of this emotional family moment. “Honestly, she can probably get to her faster if she doesn’t have us humans slowing her down.”
A flicker of anguish passes over Marcus’s face, and I recognize it. The way he wants nothing more than to protect his wife.
But Marcus is level-headed.
He knows his limits, and though Marcus does better some days than others, he knows his illness has progressed.
I watch as the realization settles over his face. That even if he went after Piper, it’s likely he wouldn’t make the journey. “Okay. Amity, listen to me. We’ll go to the Rip. We’ll find this flax you’re looking for.”
This time, Amity’s sob is one of mingled anguish and relief.
My heart cracks.
“I’ll tell Lydia the plan,” I say, feeling the sudden urge to give Marcus the privacy to comfort Amity.
Marcus nods and mouths a word of thanks.
I can’t help but notice he’s sweating again.
CHAPTER 28
