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ARCHER HASN’T MOVED from Everleigh’s side. He is determined that when she stirs, when she opens her eyes, he will be the first thing she sees. And then he will be able to explain to her, hopefully without her fainting again, what happened to him and how he is here.
He winces in pain, remembering the coronation, his fight with Millard. Waking up hours later, wrapped up in old blankets, next to a fire, a disgusting concoction being dripped slowly into his mouth. The pain in his side, his heart, his head.
“I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me,” he says to the teacher.
The teacher smiles and walks to his side, touching his head softly. “Everleigh needs you. You need her. It wasn’t your time to die.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you are alive.”
“Funny. You think I’d be used to you talking in riddles by now.”
“Sorry. I have no answer for you. I don’t know why I gave you the body shield. I don’t know why I came back. I don’t know why I thought I could save you.”
“But you did.”
“I did. And you are glad?”
“Of course. No one wants to die.”
“Some do.”
“Who?”
“An old man, ill and confined to bed, his brain sharp but his body broken may be glad to end it all.”
“Fine. Some do.” Archer closes his eyes. The teacher – who still hasn’t revealed his real name despite Archer asking him constantly – is clever and wise but also exhausting.
“Sorry if I irritate you.”
“You do. But only because I’m in pain and worried about Everleigh.”
“She’ll be fine and so will you. Your body is almost healed on the outside which means it is healing on the inside.”
They are both silent, watching Everleigh, her breathing steady and her colour slowly coming back.
***
CERYN TAKES THREE WRONG turns in her haste to find Ginata’s rooms and is cursing under her breath by the time she pushes open the door. Ginata looks up, pulling her fingers away from Millard’s crown. “Any sign of her?”
Ceryn shakes her head. “No. And Millard’s gone. And Weaver.”
“Weaver took Addyson back to the cottages. With Della and Finn. We thought she’d be safer there.”
“And the King?”
Ginata shrugs, deceit making her movements painful and slow, her face a practised mask of innocence. “I don’t know.”
“You haven’t seen him? Wolf?”
“Nobody’s been in here. It’s just me and Will.”
“How is he?”
“Come and see.”
They walk through to Ginata’s work room, where Ceryn smashed a bowl over the King’s head, knocking him unconscious.
Will groans as he sits up. “Hello. Well done on capturing Millard.”
“He’s gone.”
“Where?”
Ceryn lets out a shout of frustration. “No one knows. Millard’s gone. Everleigh’s gone. Weaver left the King. I left Weaver. I should have killed Millard while I had the chance. Damn him.” She kicks at the table and swears when she hurts herself.
“Damn me.” Will sits up, moaning in pain. “I should have looked after her better. I should have protected her.”
“You tried. Brett knocked you out.”
“That’s no excuse. I should have run faster with her, gone a different way, hidden somewhere.”
“Will. We know how much you love her. You’d never see her hurt. It wasn’t your fault. Really.”
Ginata takes a deep breath. “Whoever has Everleigh will bring her back here. They cannot mean to harm her. Millard would want her alive. We’ll just go back to his rooms and wait.”
“But he’s gone. What if he’s gone to her? To whoever has her. She’s not safe.”
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”
“We need to go to the cottages,” Will says, standing up and swaying slightly. “We all need to be together and then we can make a plan.”
“Our plans don’t work.” Ceryn’s voice is as angry as her face. “We had him. We have his crown. I could scream.”
“We have no idea where either of them is. Let’s do what Will said. Go down to the cottages and at least the rest of us will all be in one place.”
Ceryn nods her agreement, though her face is still set in fury.
They support Will, each of them taking an arm and they head to the cottages, keeping an eye out for Millard, Wolf or any other trouble.
They don’t meet trouble but they do meet Weaver in the woods.
“Millard’s gone.” Ceryn spits out the words as an accusation. “Why did you leave him? We had him.”
Weaver rubs a hand over his face. “Gone?”
“Yes. Now we don’t have him or Everleigh.”
“How did he get away?”
“His ropes were cut; someone must have carried him away. Oh, I don’t even know. But now what? We had him. He killed Archer and we had him.”
Weaver takes his friend in his arms, holding her tight, crying with her. “I’m sorry. I took Addyson to the cottages. We thought she’d be safer there.”
“I can’t believe we’ve lost them both.”
“We’re worried in case whoever rescued him has taken him to whoever took Everleigh.”
Weaver nods. “Let’s go back to the cottages. Reconvene. Think.”
They trudge to the cottages, each consumed with their own thoughts, and none of them good.