“In the healing waters right now,” said Zimsy. “Abraxas is with him. He’s still not conscious.”
“Where’s Mely?”
Zimsy shook her head. “She’s not well at all.”
“Of course she’s not,” said Reeve plainly. “Death breathes at the nape of all our necks.”
“I need to see her,” said Maeve insistently.
Zimsy hadn’t been exaggerating. Mely was both better and worse than before. While some of her coloring had returned, the obvious vertigo running through her had her reeling. And with nothing left to throw up, she dry heaved every other sentence from the chaise where she lounged.
“She’s given me a wonderful concoction,” said Mely shakily, gesturing to Astrea. “I feel able to sit up at the very least.”
“Hello, Astrea,” said Maeve curtly.
Astrea nodded in reply.
“Mal?” asked Maeve at once, turning her attention back to Mely.
Mely made a distressed sound as she threw up nothing at all.
“He’s. . .no longer dying,” she managed to gasp out.
Maeve’s head tipped back as relief exhaled from her lips. She’d done it. She had successfully removed Shadow’s contamination from him.
“But,” said Mely, squirming beneath her nausea, “he’s still in terrible shape.”
Maeve nodded. She could fix that just as Reeve had gifted her with Aterna Magic long before it was hers to Inherit.
Maeve turned on her heel, prepared to head to the healing waters at once.
“Maeve,” called Astrea, her voice strained.
She turned back, and Astrea began talking before she even had eyes on her.
“I’m sorry, Maeve. I failed. I couldn’t—”
“You weren’t capable,” interrupted Maeve. “That isn’t failure. Failure would mean you hadn’t tried. And I know you tried.”
Astrea nodded, her eyes thick with tears. “I really did.”
“He’ll be fine now,” said Maeve with a nod. “I have him back now.”
Astrea nodded, and Maeve turned on her heel. She paused and looked back at Astrea.
“Is Emerie here?”
Astrea swallowed. “Emerie’s dead.”
Another mother lost to her child. Another death on Maeve’s tally of blame.
“And her girl?” she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“She’s here,” said Astrea. “She’s with the other children.”
Except Maxius.
Maeve pushed down on that thought and assured herself that soon he’d be free. She moved swiftly from the room, darting across the palace and towards the healing waters. The icy air nipped at her skin as she crossed the open archways standing above the frozen Black Deep, hurrying to Mal.
