‘I just… It’s been weeks, Morgan,’ I whisper. ‘She was meant for the pits.’
My stomach lurches as I can’t help but imagine the horrors she’s seen, had visited upon her.
‘I know,’ he says again.
I give voice to my fears. ‘Could she even still be alive?’
‘She’s strong,’ he says, perhaps more for his own comfort than mine. ‘She was well fed and has an iron will. If anyone could survive, it would be Bryn.’
‘And what of the torments they’ll have subjected her to? What if her mind is…’
I think about some of the humans we’ve brought back, the ones who only mutter to themselves in corners, fearful of everything. The ones who drink poison, or throw themselves down the falls by the river to end their lives as though their suffering will never be over despite being ‘saved’.
What if she cannot escape the dark memories of the past? What if she looks upon us and only sees masters where once she saw friends…more than friends?
‘It won’t be,’ he says harshly, the fear in his eyes giving him away. ‘And when we find her, we’ll protect her. We’ll help her and we’ll heal her. Body. Mind. Spirit. Whatever she needs to be whole again. It’s the least we can offer her after…everything.’
‘How will we get there?’ I ask in a low voice, even though I know that there’s no one here but us. ‘We already returned the amulets they gave us to get back from Merediea if we needed them, and neither the fae nor Halsford Council will agree to let us go back, not without hours of deliberation.’
He snorts. ‘You mean days. Besides, neither are meant to convene properly for at least another week and they’ll never call an emergency meeting for one Dark Realmer.’
I nod. ‘Even if we did get Dane to call them together to talk it through, and they came to a decision, it wouldn’t go our way. Calder is ruled by the Underhill’s fears, and Tavish is ruled by him. They think Dark Realmers too far gone. Not Light Realm enough to be saved.’
‘So did we a few weeks ago,’ Morgan says, full of self-loathing.
But it’s no more than I myself feel when I recall the way we treated Bryn, how we forgot her so easily, so swiftly. I blame Locke for the conjure he worked on me, but I blame myself just as much. I know what magick feels like. I should have fought it. Fought him!
When I think of how I just left her in Merediea… I shy away from my shame, my stomach revolting again.
‘We need to get there by ourselves,’ Morgan says.
‘How can we?—’
There’s a low knock at the door and my eyes narrow. Who the fuck could be visiting us at this hour?
I stalk across the room and wrench it open only to find Freeda. Of course. She invited me to hers earlier this evening.
‘Jak,’ she greets sultrily, her eyes widening a little in trepidation when she sees that Morgan is here as well.
‘I thought to find you at my door,’ she says quietly, ‘but you didn’t appear.’
‘I’m sorry, Freeda. I…can’t tonight. I find something has arisen.’
She snorts and steps forward anyway, her hand trailing up my thigh. ‘Risen, has it?’
I step back immediately, not able to abide her hand on me even with cloth between us now that I remember Bryn.
Do I really consider her my female?
Yes, I realize. I do.
‘Leave, Freeda,’ I grind out. ‘I’m no longer interested.’
Her mouth drops open and she looks affronted as I close the door in her face, throwing the bolt home with a loud clang.
I turn back to Morgan, culling the woman from my thoughts as easily as I would a stranger on the road.
‘As I was saying, how can we get there without Council approval, without the amulets? The Breach doesn’t open here anymore without using a tether.’
