It was all I needed to shove the root into my mouth and chew. It tasted how I imagined tree bark would – tough, dry and crunchy – but I summoned the remaining spit left in my mouth and swallowed, the root scratching along my throat as it went down.
It happened like clockwork. I watched in fascination as soft, wet strands of skin stretched and grew, twisting and morphing across the wound. The gaping flesh on both my arm and calf turned rubbery and pink, dried blood crusting its edges, before the upper layer of pigment knitted together, like a puzzle clicking into place.
“I’m so sorry,” Moric said as I removed the tourniquets from my healed limbs. My back muscles protested in agony as I bent to reach my calf. A pity the root wasn’t a miracle cure for all injuries. “I should have been there to help you.”
“It’s okay.” I straightened. “You wouldn’t have found the impid root if you had been inside. If you hadn’t found it, I would have probably bled out.”
“Besides, it was pitch black down there. I wouldn’t have been able to see anything either, were it not for Septimus’ light,” Lana said.
“We should get a move on,” I said quickly, hoping that if I changed the subject fast enough, I wouldn’t have to admit that the link to Kilian had proved more useful than not. That his power unsettled – and equally fascinated – me.
Even worse, that it felt more familiar than foreign.
CHAPTER 10
The sprites were arguing.
I heard their shrill voices before we had even cleared the Forests of Dalhur. Moric’s memory of the marked checkpoint relative to Valhan House was remarkable. Lana had only questioned him once during the day-long trek back from the caves.
I was beyond starving. My body past numb. My bones felt like brittle bark, chafing beneath my skin with each step. It was a monumental effort not to curl up on the ground and take a nap.
I patted Moric on the back, giving him a weak smile as I stepped toward Calendula. The sight of her made me want to cry. I didn’t know exactly where we were, but we had left the tall cluster of trees behind us and that was all that mattered. I didn’t want to see a forest again for averylong time.
Calendula’s wings were fluttering furiously in midair as she yelled at Osmanthius. “Don’t youdaretell me what I ought or oughtn’t do! This ismymortal.” Silver sparks drifted around her like a hailstorm.
Osmanthius’ eyes flashed dangerously at her. “Are you implying that I do not care for my own mortal?”
Calendula made apfftnoise. “Obviously. If you hadn’t been such a rule follower–”
“I dare you to finish that sentence, Calendula Mirau. You may be the granddaughter of Mirau Titan, but I am descended from Voldun the Fearless.”
“Fearless?” Calendula scoffed. “I’ve seen mortals more fearless than you, rule follower!”
I approached the warring sprites. Moric’s woodland sprite, I noted, had been observing the argument from the sidelines and, as soon as she had spotted Moric, floated daintily over to land on his shoulder.
“What is going on here?” I asked, holding my hands out.
Calendula spun to face me. “I tried warning you not to go west.”
My brows rose. “You did?”
Calendula nodded crossly. “I threw an acorn right at your head.”
My hand lifted automatically to the spot the acorn had hit. “That was you?”
“Yes. And I would have thrown another had Osmanthius over here not stopped me.”
Osmanthius shouldered past Calendula, his wings bristling. “We were under specific instructionsnotto assist. What is the point of a survival challenge if their sprites are there to tell them which direction to go?”
“I don’t care about theinstructions. I am a shadow sprite. I bow to no one.”
“You’re under Valhan rule.” Osmanthius rolled yellow eyes at her.
Bright yellow.
“I saw you,” I said to Osmanthius. “In the trees. I saw yellow eyes. I thought it had been an animal chasing us… but it was you. You were there the entire time? Even when Anama…?” A lump had formed in my throat. The same one that appeared each time I thought of her. The spark in her eyes when she spoke about her passions. The warm smile I would never again receive from her. My chest constricted painfully.
The cliffs of Kraventhorn would mourn her loss.
