I counted the timing of his heart. Twenty-two. Twenty-two beats in one minute. The King of Heartstone was on the brink of death, but as I continued to press my ear at his chest and press my fingers to his neck, his pulse kept its slow, steady rhythm. It wouldn’t be enough to wake him, but enough to keep him from the Veil—especially now that he was bound to me.
Bright light from a candle lit the tunnel and Piffle treaded carefully towards us, Seraphine in tow.
“He’s not dead. He will not wake, but I can leave him for now.”
“But how have you?—”
I cut Piffle off. “There’s no time to explain it. Seraphine, can you sift us to Morella?”
“I can.”
I reached for her hand. “Piffle, keep this candle alight and stay with him. Manage his blood as best you can. I will be back soon.”
The Changlingfae screamed. “There’s a knife in his chest!”
“And it must stay there for now. Keep the light on him and the Underfae will stay back. I will save him, Piff. I promise that to both of us.”
He cried silently, sitting down next to his master. The wound at Arthur’s chest had ceased its bleeding, leaving him in a state of dwindling time.
“I’m ready,” I said, squeezing Seraphine’s fingers. She nodded and raced with me back down the corridor.
I led her to the dining hall, where she placed her hand on Arthur’s chair and for the first time in thirteen months, I left the confines of Heartstone Castle and the Underrealm below.
CHAPTER 46
The Beast
STAY.
…
STRONG.
STAY.
LIVE.
…is she…free…?
BRINGER. GONE.
Let…her…go.
CANNOT HUNT HER.
STAY.
Goodbye…old…friend.
CHAPTER 47
Reshina
Seraphine siftedus from the chair to a tree outside, then to the wheel of an old carriage. As a Forestfae, she would be the fastest mode of travel all the way across Revelry to the Citrine Cliffs.
I observed that she was tired or still new to her fae powers as with each sift the distance was shorter and her breathing labored. Thirty minutes later, the gold of the Citrine Cliffs shimmered before us.
I set aside the gnawing at my heart. Arthur was still alive. I’d know if he wasn’t. With the rogue curse I’d taken, I’d be bound to the next person I kissed for six months of the year, forced to remain in their presence for at least half the hours of each day. Arthur was alive when I’d kissed him, and so, the curse was keeping his heart beating, but it would not wake him, and I feared the strength of the calling Veil over the power of the curse.
