Luka
Kol returned to the infirmary with a platter piled high with pasta. Extra thought had gone into his creation, as more of that mouth-watering red sauce had been poured over the top. My stomach growled in anticipation like a hungry puppy and my taste buds sprang into life. I could hardly contain myself from diving in face first and tasting this masterpiece he’d created.
“So that nymph chick, that’s the Solemn Witch?” he asked, handing me the plate. He sunk into the bed across from mine, letting out an audible thud from the mattress as he positioned himself comfortably in its cushioned depths. His eyes glanced up at me with a mischievous twinkle I was becoming fond of.
I took a large bite of pasta, nodding to show that I was listening. As the strands of cheese slid down my throat, I took a moment to savor the flavors before answering. “Yup.”
“She’s holed up in the kitchen, throwing shit into a pot. She asked me if we had cow liver.” He made a face that made me choke on my food with a laugh. “Whatever you do, do not eat the contents on the stove.”
I hastily finished my food before the healer tittered back into the room. Her gaze fell upon Kol first, prompting him to flex and relax his wings. She took her time to scrutinize every inch of his wings, inspecting the small patches of gray skin that had formed. Her brow furrowed as she noted how the feathers were slowly growing back.
She meandered over to the cabinets and returned with a tub of a thick, white salve. Taking Kol’s arm in her hand, she applied the balm carefully and expertly to his wounds.
“You know, if you wanted to touch me, all you needed to do was ask Fern.”
She let out a groan before making her way back over to the counter, eventually leaning down and picking up an amber vial. My eyes widened with intense curiosity as I watched her drizzle its contents into a different container. She carefully measured out each ingredient before stirring it together with precision.
Fern pulled out a paper cup and held it firmly in her hands. She looked him directly in the eyes, her gaze unwavering as she spoke with a steady voice. “Drink this,” she commanded, the cup filled with a thick, bile green liquid. It was putrid and uninviting.
He inhaled its scent, his face contorting with displeasure. With a disgruntled frown, he shook his head firmly. “No thanks,” he muttered quietly. A grimace settled upon his grizzled features as he held up his hand.
“It’s an herb mixture to promote feather regrowth.” She pressed the cup into his hand.
He looked past her to me with a pitiful expression that said, help me. “It smells like rotten fish.”
“Drink it,” she snarled, then turned her attention to me.
I blanched when she peered at the empty plate beside me. Her eyes met mine, and I knew she was about to reprimand me out for leaving the infirmary again against her orders.
“You don’t give Elm this kind of attitude.” Kol continued to eye the paper cup skeptically, watching the greenish-brown herbal solution as it sloshed around inside.
She spun around quickly, her finger unflinchingly pointed at Kol’s hand. “Unlike you, the prince actually listens when I’m trying to help. Why must you be so damned difficult?”
The girl took a moment to brush her blonde hair away from her face before returning to her attention to me. She grasped the edge of my shirt and lifted it up to reveal the angry scar on my stomach, followed by the cold, hovering touch of her skin on my bare abdomen. A soothing light emitted from her hands and swirled around me in a warm embrace. Her grip was gentle but firm, her eyes closed in concentration as she worked.
Kol smirked, his brow arching mischievously in a manner that I had always seen Elm do when he was being particularly smug. It was almost like they were kindred spirits; it didn’t surprise me in the least that they were such great friends. “I live to piss you off, Fern.”
Then he tilted the cup, bringing it to his lips with confidence, and let it slide down his throat. He crumbled the cup in his hand before flicking it into the trash can. With a satisfied belch followed by a mild gag, he had to press his fist against his mouth to keep from retching.
“Oh, gods. What the hell is in that?”
Fern carefully secured a new bandage over my wound, then she turned back to Kol with a kind and affirming smile. “Just some herbs from the greenhouse.”
She began to walk away out of the back door, but abruptly halted. I could detect a hint of amusement in her voice as she paused. “And raw oysters.”
“I hate fish.” Kol muttered angrily as he threw himself onto the bed, lying flat on his back. He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his tousled hair, still making a disgusted face.
Apparently, whatever was in the medicine induced sleep. It wasn’t fifteen minutes before I heard his soft snores ringing through the room. I watched him for a while, fascinated by how large he appeared compared to the tiny cot he was using as a bed. His wingspan alone would normally require at least a three times larger bed to fit his body, yet still he seemed fairly content, curling up into a ball and using his own wings as an improvised blanket. His sleek feathers seemed to absorb the waning light from outside, illuminating him in a way that made me want to reach out and touch them.
As my gaze returned to his sleeping face, I could not help but smile. I wondered if his feathers were as soft and warm as they appeared, imagining myself being cocooned in them. It was an outrageous thought, far-fetched even. To even think about asking to touch his wings made my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and my heart pounded with panic. I shook the thought away from me quickly, almost like a reflex.
My mind wandered to Rhen, and my heart felt heavy with worry. I hoped she was okay, though I knew Elm wouldn’t let bad happen to her.
Something had shifted in her since the first time I’d seen her. Before, she’d appeared to be a frail human. At the time, I’d had such a strong urge to protect her, but it seemed as if the roles had completely reversed.
Before she had set out with Elm, she’d kissed my cheek and told me to take care of myself, as if I were the fragile one. With a weapons belt slung low on her hips, she emitted an undeniable aura of strength and confidence. It was obvious her time with Elm had drastically transformed her.
The sound of Kol’s rhythmic snoring soothed me, and I felt a sense of security. Though I had no way of knowing, I truly felt that Rhen was safe wherever she was. Whether it was the way she carried herself or the fact that Elm was by her side, I didn’t know. And soon, I allowed myself to slip into a dreamless sleep, knowing I’d wake up to her safe return.
Rhen
After Elm’s glimmer dissipated, we cautiously stumbled back into the fortress with Phyre in tow. Thankfully, none of us had sustained any serious injuries during the battle with the daemons, just a few minor scrapes and bruises. Though, all three of us were exhausted and dismayed by the events that had unfolded.
Phyre had accomplished a daunting feat, slaying nearly two dozen of the gruesome daemon beasts single-handedly. She’d quickly barked out orders for her fellow Hunt members to retreat before firmly latching onto Elm’s hand. Despite the tumultuous situation, she still retained her wits and acted as a leader, despite not officially receiving the title. But we’d had to evade so quickly, our only thought being to get ourselves out of danger that we’d not ensured the other’s survival. I could only hope that they’d headed Phyre’s warning and escaped without incident.
Elm raked a hand through his hair, pushing the alabaster strains out of his face. “Someone needs to fetch Kol. Get him caught up.”
“I’ll go get him,” I offered, shooting off toward the infirmary, eager to check in on Luka. Not bothering with the pleasantries of a soft knock, I shoved the door aside without hesitation.
To my surprise, I found both Kol and Luka dozing soundly, curled up in their tiny cots. My footsteps jostled Luka from his slumber. He shot up in shock, his eyes wide and chest heaving with panic. His ginger hair was a mess, and he raked it from his face; emerald, green eyes darting around the room, finally resting peacefully on my face.
“Rhen,” he muttered, clamping a hand over his eyes. “You’re okay.”
My best warm smile barely reached my eyes, and he noticed. Despite his inquisitive expression, I shook Kol’s shoulder. He snorted, then groaned in dissatisfaction at being disturbed from his sleep.
“I think that healer girl drugged him,” Luka said, still wiping sleep from his eyes. “I don’t think she likes him very much.”
Sitting beside him, I covered a laugh with my fist.
I wasn’t too surprised that he would come up with something like that. Kol always tried to push his weight around, acting like a bigger asshole than he really was, but Fern was never one to back down. She gave it right back to him without hesitation, and often more than what he was expecting. But I’d watched him wink at her from the corner of my eye after he’d called her a foul name, and she would flip him off in reply. It had become somewhat of a game between the two of them.
But my smile faded as swiftly as it had come. “I saw him, Lulu.”
His expression changed as he processed my statement, at first with confusion on his face, but his lip twitched at the corner with understanding.
“How—”
I dropped my chin and closed my eyes briefly, feeling the weight of my black hair rest on my forehead. He didn’t have to finish the question that hung in the air. His concern for his lost friend was unwavering—even after he’d tried to kill him—and was clearly visible through the compassion in his eyes.
“He wasn’t Baz,” I muttered simply.
Luka’s shoulders slumped with a sense of destructive despair, and his eyes glazed over with inescapable hopelessness.
“But when I mentioned you being alive, something in his eyes changed. Just for a second,” I said, “If I hadn’t been looking for it, I would have missed it. But I think you were right. He’s in there somewhere, locked away like a prisoner.”
His eyes met mine, and I saw how they began to sparkle with a renewed sense of determination. He would do anything to reunite his friend with the person he used to be, no matter how difficult or impossible it seemed.
“We have to save him.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I found a lump on my head where I’d hit the ground earlier. I winced, drawing it back and finding a wash of blood on my finger. Not enough to worry, but it still hurt.
But Luka noticed. His brow furrowed, and he immediately jumped up, frantically searching through the drawer in a desperate attempt to find something. “Are you okay? Do I need to go get the girl?”
“I’m fine.”
Kol stirred in the cot beside us, and we both tensed. Bringing a finger up to my lips, I mouthed, later.
Taking a few steps closer, I reached down and touched the wings of the sylph with one finger. The bald patches on his wings had started to grow in new feathers. All fey healed quickly, so it wouldn’t be long until he was back in the clouds soaring through the skies again. But even still, I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of sadness knowing that his injuries were my fault. Had I not disassociated, he wouldn’t have had to rescue me from the hound, and he wouldn’t be hurt.
He groaned at my touch, then murmured something uncohesive. Luka snorted behind me, and I whirled toward him with a quizzical expression. Both ears tilted down, facing away from each other. He sucked both lips into his mouth, desperately trying to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter.
“What?”
Kol threw a pillow over his head. “What does one have to do to get a good nap around here?”
Luka chortled. “What, did Daddy interrupt your nap?”
I gazed at Luka in confusion, my brows furrowing together and my head tilting slightly toward him, as if expecting an explanation. To my shock and surprise, Kol suddenly leapt up out of the bed. Startled by the sudden movement, I backed away a few steps until my back hit the wall behind me.
“Oh, gods. Don’t tell me I talk in my sleep.”
His slate-gray eyes fixated on Luka, not even taking note of me. Then he sighed, breaking away from his trance and turning toward me. I felt like an intruder in the room as I watched him stand there with arms crossed over his chest.
“Well?” he asked, noting the black ichor splattered on my hands. “How many daemons did you kill?”
I didn’t think he was trying to be an ass, but his words stung a bit. I’d barely even been able to hold my own against one of those monsters, much less the ten or twenty that Phyre had taken on her own.
“Meeting in the living room.” I said in answer. Kol rolled his eyes, and I felt the protest coming. “Phyre’s here.”
His lips formed a solemn, tight line, and he appeared to stand taller than before. I wasn’t the only one that noticed his alteration in stature. Luka’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“Phyre, as in Daughter of the Rage?”
Kol smirked. “Yeah. She’s real chill, you’ll love her.”
With both boys in tow, I made my way back to the living room, where everyone was anxiously awaiting our return. Phyre perched on the arm of the plush velvet sofa, Elm at the far end of it, and Ayesha was comfortably beside him. I tried to shake off my feeling of discomfort as I stood in front of them all.
“Phy-Phy, you look—” Kol started, a coy smile on his lips. He seemed to be in a fairly playful mood, considering that I’d woken him up from a medically induced nap. “Well, you’ve definitely looked better.”
Phyre flipped him off, but Elm held up a hand before she had time to respond.
“Enough. We have no idea how many daemons there are in Etherean, but I can confirm that they are much stronger than anticipated. Had Phyre not helped us out with her fire magick, we wouldn’t have made it back in one piece.”
Kol’s expression became visibly strained as he studied his friends. Phyre rarely made use of her magick, only resorting to it when she felt truly threatened. It was a fact that Kol was all too familiar with. We had seen the consequences first-hand of what happened when she was pushed to the point of taking action against someone else, and it wasn’t pretty.
“Shit.”
“Also, my brother and the Driech were there, but she didn’t even pretend to be interested in us. Whatever she was doing, they were using daemons as a cover and protection to keep people away.”
“Do you think that’s where the Cauldron is?” Luka asked beside me.
Elm considered it. “It’s possible, but I didn’t feel a strong magick pull like I did with the stone. Our best chance now to stop the bitch is to secure Daphne’s Heart before she gets to it.” He cast a glance toward Ayesha, who was nervously adjusting her skirts with her delicate fingers. “How’s the location spell coming?”
“I scraped a drop of daemon blood into it about ten minutes ago. It should be ready, but I will need a map.”
Elm stood up slowly and stretched out his arms. “I’ll be back then.”
Ayesha rose to her feet, making her way into the kitchen. I looked at Luka, silently conveying my desire for us to follow after her. He gave me a subtle nod, and we both hastened away behind her, careful not to give away our presence. Glancing back one last time before leaving the living room, I noticed Kol had already taken a seat on the sofa next to Phyre, readying to pester her some more.
A rancid smell infiltrated my nostrils as I wandered into the kitchen. Gods, why did all potions smell like rotting corpses and death?
“Hello, darling,” Ayesha sang without looking up from stirring the pot. I still didn’t know how she did that.
“Hey, Aya. I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
She pivoted towards us, a warm smile radiating from her face. “Of course! What do you need?”