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“Then you will all remain disappointed,” I said. “Taking vows with him has claimed the brightest spot in my memories.”
“Yes, well, you’ve officially made him outrank me,” Halvar said, a hint of emotion in his voice. “Look, I knew the fool when he was the rogue king. He never lets us forget it, but my position as first knight outranked ambassador. The tables turned and I often reminded him of it.” Halvar shook his head and rose to his feet. “Now, there’s no outranking the bleeding bastard thanks to you. I’ll likely get missives with official seals for the rest of my days, just to remind meIdon’t have a seal.”
Unbidden, I laughed. The shock of it drew my hand over my mouth. “Now, I plan to rise to the challenge and design a seal especially for missives sent your way.”
Halvar’s dark eyes widened. “You are choosing violence, I see.”
I smiled down at the ring on my finger. “Thank you. For speaking as though this is temporary. There are some days it is hard to think such things.”
“Ari is a survivor. A warrior. Now, it seems he has a great deal to live for.”
“We’re ready,” Niklas interjected. “This process is different since Ari is sleeping. The corrupted blood will be drained through his side. Saga, I’ll need your blood. Remember what I said about familial connections. They add a bit of robustness to such things.”
I held out my hand, hells, I’d hold out my throat if Niklas needed.
Once he had the blood added to his elixir, he faced us and said, “Well, prepare for gore.”
I drifted to the other side of the bed and took hold of Ari’s hand while more blood fae healers came to aid Niklas. Two women with sunset red irises informed us Gunnar had opened his eyes. Halvar and Kari seemed torn on which room to take—Ari’s or the prince’s. In the end, I urged them to see to Gunnar. To speak with Frey and Stieg for the answers they would need to return to their king.
Junius sat in a chair beside me and took my free hand. A knot of emotion built in my throat. The way she took the place beside me was almost like a friend.
Niklas did not mince words when he spoke of gore. He opened a wide gash in the space between two of Ari’s ribs, a finger-width above the pulpy bruise of the poison. By hand, the Falkyn fed the elixir into Ari’s blood, while another herb that he explained summoned poison through the pores, had him scooping back dark, inky blood off Ari’s skin.
Bo’s extraction had been violent. Ari’s was eerily peaceful. Bloody, but nearly silent. Only a few murmured instructions were given to the healers by Niklas. The Falkyn worked with unrivaled focus. The burn of his mesmer brightened in his eyes whenever he placed a hand on Ari’s skin, as if his touch sped up the whole of the process.
A full clock toll passed. Stieg had stopped to inquire on the progress, then Cuyler and Gorm. Rune entered the room by the time Niklas fed the last scoop of his crushed, soupy elixir into Ari’s blood.
“How is he?” Rune asked.
“Time will tell.” I rubbed my thumb over Ari’s knuckles. “And Bo?”
“Weak,” Rune said. “Distraught. Angry. You know he was loyal. I expected if he ever got free, he’d shoulder the blame. He is doing just that.”
“He will need you to wade through the darkness, Rune.”
He cast a glance at Junius and lowered his voice. “Saga, this feeling is unrequited. I’m satisfied knowing he is alive and free.”
I didn’t argue the way, even lost to Davorin’s control, Bo constantly inquired of Rune or blamed him mercilessly. As though his darkened heart had ached at the thought of Rune being on the opposing side.
“Saga, look.” Niklas waved me over to him.
“All gods.” I reached my trembling fingers to touch Ari’s side. Bloody and still gaping with a wound from Niklas’s knife, the shadow of Davorin’s spell was fading. Little by little, the dusky shade seeped away, replaced with the soft, sun-toasted brown of Ari’s Night Folk complexion.
“You did it,” I whispered, and clasped Niklas’s palm, unbothered by the thick layer of blood. “He can wake. He can wake.”
I spun away, pulse racing.
“Where are you going?” Junius asked.
“To find Calista,” I said over my shoulder. “Davorin took my only way to reach Ari, and I’ll be damned if he hurts him now. It’s time for the king to claim his throne.”
After the fight at the gates, Calista had disappeared the moment I’d told her Davorin had her fate spell. It was rare for the girl to express fear, so my skin had gone numb the way she’d looked ready to double over and vomit.
Davorin possessing one of her twists of fate was dangerous. The truth was written all over her face.
Outside the longhouse near the cottages where the high-ranking warriors resided, Sofia danced and sang, spinning around, a white smile on her face. Seated on a wooden cask, Stefan watched, the red glow of his herb roll the only light in the night.
“Stefan, where’s your sister?”
