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He was a wildbringer, after all—but birds couldn’t talk. Perhaps someone had been spying on Ursiana. A lot more likely, and yet it was chilling that someone could have seen or heard them.
Still, Azir’s anger dissipated, now that he knew he could change the course of his life. Change. It meant it hadn’t been like that. This was a memory. Just a memory.
He then was transported to another place. A girl, about five, was trying to hit a target with an arrow, but kept missing. A boy beside her chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” the girl asked.
“Nothing.” The boy crossed his arms. Just arms. He had no hands, but somehow it wasn’t surprising or strange.
The girl then tried again, and the arrow this time turned around and landed at the girl’s feet. She looked at the boy. “Did you do that?”
He just laughed.
Instead of getting upset, the girl smiled. “You have magic!” She turned to Azir. “Dad, he has iron magic!”
No. This memory couldn’t exist. He was back in front of the shed, about to go back to the castle and propose to Ursiana, when an arrow came in his direction and stopped mid-air.
The girl came running. “I can do it too! I can do it!” She stared at him, this time serious. “You can do it. Get out. Get out. Snap out.”
The girl ran away and disappeared, then a huge white dragon flew towards him, as the girl’s voice resonated in his head.
“Get out. Get out. Get out.”
He opened his eyes.
* * *
River felt disoriented,without much of his magic, still unsure how Queen Kara had done it, thinking it strange that there was a plant that could block fae magic and yet he had never heard anything about it.
What he had to do now was find one of those stairs and climb out of this hole—unless his magic returned, then he could just disappear and go home. Home. It wasn’t really home he wanted, but Naia. Naia who had warned him against coming to Ironhold. She had been right—this place was more dangerous than he had expected—but also wrong: he had found important information that would make a difference.
A sudden movement on his right caught his attention. He couldn’t see anything, just felt the air shift, and there hadn’t been any smell either. Before he could even try to figure out what it was, something large and hairy hit him across the abdomen, pushing him back. He fell, then rolled away. The ground shook beneath him. Whatever had pushed him had tried to impale him to the ground. River had no weapons and no magic. Now, that was foolish. An Ancient should always carry at least a dagger, ideally two or more.
Since the creature didn’t move again, River moved his hand to touch whatever had been stuck to the ground and felt something thin and hairy. That had to be a giant spider. They should have been extinct. This wasn’t the time to try to figure out what it was doing here, but to find a way to defeat it.
River ran and climbed the pincer until he found himself above what felt like a round, hairy ball. It had to be the back of the spider. That way, it could not reach him, at least for a while. He felt something slimy beneath him, and when he touched it, he realized it was his own blood. This was bad. There was also some kind of insect on his neck. River lay down, trying to save his forces. Even though the spider was jerking sideways, he held onto it. His only plan now was to try to remain there for as long as possible, until he could see anything or until his magic returned.
His magic. He felt a slight tingle, a different sense of smell. Now, if his magic were weak, he wouldn’t be able to go far, and could get lost, but then, he had no choice. If he remained here any longer, it would be certain death. Possible death was a much nicer possibility.
* * *
Naia watchedas Arry walked towards whatever room they had given King Sebastian. She wanted someone trustworthy watching the king, so that he wouldn’t find out more information than he should. She didn’t want any soldier telling him for sure that it had been Ironhold, or mentioning anything about the dragon. Arry would know how to keep their secrets and make sure their visitor didn’t wander around the fort by himself.
Naia didn’t trust the Wolfmark king, but then she didn’t want to send him home in the middle of the night with a horse in unfamiliar terrain. Perhaps she should have suggested he use the wolves to guide him. Well, too late now, he was going to be their guest for the night. She hoped her father would arrive soon, and this time, she wouldn’t mind if he were rude to a “potential ally.” Naia wasn’t interested in the disgusting alliance he had proposed. That said, the king wasn’t interested in bending backwards to Ironhold, so he could still be an ally.
Naia then felt something. A call. A pull. It wasn’t mysterious this time. She knew exactly what it was.
11
Healing
Naia’s feeling was unmistakable. How strange that it had seemed so mysterious a year before, when she had found River for the first time. For some reason, she could sense him—behind the fort, in the woods, and probably in danger—unless this last assumption was just her pointless worry. No, something was happening.
She passed through the guards by the gate and asked not to be followed. It would be terrible if anyone witnessed her rescuing a fae—unless River was glamoured. Being alone in the woods after such an attack was dangerous, but she paid attention to her metal magic, which could sense metal not belonging to the woods. Since most soldiers or assassins carried daggers or swords, she would be able to sense them.
But what overwhelmed her sensations was River. She found him lying down, but with eyes open.
Naia kneeled by him and held his hand. “River. What happened?”
