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This was what Wraith spoke of before. The beginning of the end.

Chapter22

The Raven Queen

When Niklas saidwe’d work to find an antidote, what he meant was he’d work tirelessly near the stone ovens in the cooking room where he boiled and steamed sharp herbs and oils and a strange sort of wood that reeked like mold.

For four days, Junius came in and out, bringing her husband supplies or notes or food he rarely ate.

A distinct thrum of pressure lived in the cooking room. I didn’t understand the Eastern magic, there were so many different veins of it, but it was undeniable that something about the way Niklas worked had power to it.

I sat at a round table in the corner where blood court cooks chopped onions and roots. I fiddled with the leather pouch with the final dream tale to visit Ari. The need to see him again was unbearable during waking hours, and brutal during the night. With one left, and no telling how much longer it would take, I held tightly to the tiny scroll, cherishing it like a sacred text.

I’d gotten lost in thoughts of Ari, so when Niklas tapped my shoulder, I nearly toppled off my chair.

The Falkyn grinned. “I think I’ve figured something out. We need to test it with the tracker.”

I hurried to my feet. “A cure?”

“Not quite. I need a few more ingredients, but this is close.” Niklas held up a bowl of rosy liquid. Movement of the potion wafted a hint of barley and mildew into the air.

I’d take any step if it brought us closer to building a true force against Davorin.

Outside, a few blood fae warriors gathered. Gunnar and Eryka stood near me. The star seer princess had shadows under her eyes and her cheeks sunk in a bit. Magus’s report that Davorin’s forces took the Court of Stars had done little to ease Eryka’s fears for her people and her lack of contact with any star fae.

Ash followed Niklas to the edge of the crowd, then took a place beside Junie and Maja, the second eldest daughter of Hawthorne and Yarrow. The girl was close to the Kryv’s age, and had taken a fascinating interest in his gift of using pain to control folk.

With the help of Stieg, Rune led a blindfolded Bo through the crowd, stopping in front of Niklas.

The Falkyn gestured for Rune. “We need your blood to test it. You willing?”

“What are we testing?”

“If the corruption in his blood—” Niklas nodded at Bo. “Can be guarded against. Most likely he will attack if we release him, true?”

Rune hesitated. “Likely, yes.”

“Good. We want him to try.”

“Wait.” I held up a hand. “You’re going to use Rune as bait?”

Niklas winked. “Dear Saga, we are surrounded with blades. I think the man can hold his own for a moment.”

“I’ll do it,” Rune insisted. “If it can protect people from suffering the same as him, I’ll do it.”

“Good. Blood, then.”

Rune held out his palm. Junius came forward and removed a knife from a sheath on her thigh. In a single slice she had Rune’s palm split open and guided his hand over Niklas’s elixir.

“Only need a few drops,” Niklas said. He kissed his wife before she stepped back into the crowd, as though finally realizing all his focus on his potions had robbed him of her for too long.

Once Rune’s blood was mixed well with the elixir, Niklas used two fingers to mark Rune’s skin. Mere streaks of liquid across his face, throat, and chest.

“All right.” The Falkyn stepped back. “Give them space. I want the tracker to go for Rune, no one else. Be ready.”

The observers took long steps back. Bo was on his knees, muttering and disoriented. I wasn’t certain what sort of calming herbs he’d been given, or if Davorin’s influence was beginning to take its toll.

With care, Stieg and Frey untethered Bo’s wrists. No pause, no hesitation, and Bo tried to swipe at them. The two warriors scrambled backward, out of reach. Bo yanked at the linen cloth over his eyes and spun around, blinking against the sharp sunlight.

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