Page 120 of Vervain

My light is powerful against nightwalkers. And now that I think about it, Serun fled during our training session too.

After I clean around her wounds, I take the torn shirt, lathered with ointment, and wrap it across the side of her face, covering the wounds and her bruised, closed eye. I’m not even sure it will help. They’re dead. Their skin likely doesn’t regenerate like a human’s.

Still, trying doesn’t hurt.

Once I’m done, I pack up the water and ointment, raise my hands towards Olivia’s body, and close my eyes. Darkness wraps around me as I sink, falling beneath rock and minerals until I stand in the moonflower valley. This time, instead of moonflowers or the fire that engulfed the village, I am surrounded by vervain. They bloom in their powdery purple, their petals folding together, and they emit a refreshingly sweet scent.

Pulling magik to me, I open my eyes once I reach it. The whispered voice grips my shoulders and breathes in my ear, saying, “Pir avacen.”

With a deep breath, I hold the light and whisper, “Sur bonur.” The tiny scratches and the blood soaking into the fabric seem to stop. My trembling fingers glide down her face, ensuring every sparkle of light sprinkles down like powder in a snowstorm.

After the light fades, I lean back on my legs, lower my hands to my thighs, and sigh. That should do. Anything more, and I might have a difficult time holding my glamour around slayers.

I make my way to Serun, sit back in his lap, and lean against him. With my entire body relaxing and the knots of worry and tension about Olivia lifting a little, I close my eyes to get some semblance of sleep.

Coldness touches my thighs, enough to make my shoulders jerk, and my ears prick and flick back. Serun’s arms lift, settling back around my waist.

“You awake?” I whisper.

Nothing. No response, or a feeling as my mind tries to pull me under into sleep. In a matter of seconds, the weight of tonight suffocates all the voices, and I succumb.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

INFILTRATE

Saya Claymore

Mum put a glamour over me, then taught me how, but I forgot. For all these years, it was all me, and now I’m doing it, but not to hide myself from myself. I am doing it to infiltrate one of the prayer sanctuaries to save my brother and Avianna’s husband.

I open my eyes to Serun, then to Avianna and Olivia, as they watch from nearby. Olivia doesn’t meet my gaze. She has been like that since we woke up. It will take her time to trust me again—and perhaps the healing and tending to her wounds may have been invasive.

I didn’t think of that until now.

“Did my eye colour change?”

“Warm brown,” Serun says. “I don’t like it.”

Breathing a laugh, I touch his long, clawed hand. “We should go. I want to get this done quickly.”

His pearly eyes drift from me to Avianna and Olivia. “If you do not hear from us by tomorrow night, flee to the Undercity and warn Maeve so she can take the appropriate measures.”

We turn to leave when Olivia says, “Saya…” Looking back at her, her guarded red eyes keep darting to me and away. “Thank you…”

Her voice is so quiet that my ears can’t quite catch what she says at first. But when I do, warmth spreads through my bones and muscles. “Be careful, Olivia. Some may consider you human.”

She smiles, her exposed eye crinkling, her hands clasped together.

“We will hunt, in case anything goes awry,” Avianna says. Her gaze lifts to the prayer sanctuary above us. Pools of light radiate across the rocky hill. Without another word, she steps into the shadows, hidden from the moonlight. Olivia follows a heartbeat later, leaving only Serun and me.

Towards the prayer sanctuary, my anxiety spikes at the enormous creature near the path. This must be the one Reyes killed to protect Avianna. It has swords for arms, with one torn off and near its head. The creature reeks of rot, and buzzing flies and writhing maggots infest its open belly, organs exposed in stringy ribbons.

Serun’s eyes narrow, and he lures me onto the path on the right.

“Are you sure they will accept me?” My voice wavers. Whatever confidence I had in the cavern fades as fast as air escaping an inflatable balloon.

“You are human, and prayer sanctuaries are for humans, as much as the slayers want to deny it. They won’t question why you are there, and most would assume you came to pray, since most humans cling to the hope of hearing Mother’s words in their ears.” He draws me close, and we step off the path and behind one of the many rocky outcrops that litter the hill.

“What do I do when I’m inside again?”