The prince grunted and shoved at the animal with his free hand. His hand found the sword hilt, and he plunged it farther into the cat. The animal released Cirrus’s arm and pitched forward, its chest heaving with whatever few remaining breaths it had left.
Cirrus moaned and rolled to his side. He released the sword to grip his arm, his fingers reaching around his bicep. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as Kalen and Luna ran over to help.
Luna gingerly eased off his overcoat, the sleeve now nearly shredded. Blood soaked through the arm of Cirrus’s shirt, staining the black material an even darker shade. She glanced at Kalen. “We need to get his shirt off, too.”
Cirrus flinched away.
“Knock it off,” Luna said as she grabbed at his hand.
“I’m cold is all.”
“The cold will feel good. Now let me examine it.”
Kalen propped Cirrus into a sitting position, and Luna worked quickly to unbutton the fabric and pull it off the good arm. She slipped it over his shoulders and peeled it slowly down the other arm. Deep, angry punctures stared back at them.
She gripped the shirt and tore it into shreds of fabric before binding them around the arm. Cirrus’s jaw tightened, but he remained otherwise still. “Do you have to be so rough?”
“I want to stop the bleeding,” said Luna “I’m sorry it hurts.” She dug in her pockets and pulled out a vial of bright-yellow liquid. “Take a swig of this, it will help with the pain until we get to town and have someone look at the wound. I would leave the arm exposed, too, as the cold will help with the swelling.”
“You are insane.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s actually proven that cold therapy quickens the healing.”
“Healing? Are you sure you don’t mean death?”
“I doubt you’ll die before we reach Servaille, but whatever you desire.”
He shoved his unwounded arm through the sleeve and attempted to drape it over the shoulder of his wounded arm. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do it one handed, so his cheeks and ears reddened while Luna bent over to help him.
“Thank goodness you didn’t hurt your leg.” She rolled her eyes.
Kalen put out the fire and cleaned off Cirrus’s sword before returning it to its scabbard. He soothed each of the horses and gave them water. Luna mounted her horse, and Cirrus stood next to his. “I might need some help here,” he said, his jaw clenched in pain.
It took some maneuvering and a couple of grunts from Cirrus, but finally they were ready to depart. The road wound through the forest, offering them occasional glimpses of the pale blue sky above. They finally reached the edge of the mountain, and the path cleared to showcase the valley below and the peaks on the other side. The horses plowed ahead to a switchback and turned the corner.
There in front of them, built into the cliffs, stood the city of Servaille.
With scylee birds circling above and below, it looked like a miniature snow village sold during the winter holiday season at the marketplace. Silver and stone sparkled in the sunlight glinting off the cliff as the sun crested above to begin its descent toward the horizon. The city seemed vertically stacked, building on top of building, precarious because one avalanche could sheer the side and decimate the entire town. When he squinted and looked closer, Kalen made out trails and roads that climbed the side of the mountain, so it wasn’t quite as vertical as he’d thought.
But the illusion certainly made for an imposing first glimpse.
Spurred forward by the sight of their destination, they traversed the final mountain pass and neared the outskirts of Servaille.
The path widened again by the time they reached the city’s edge, stretching enough to allow a wagon through. A large archway marked the entrance, connected to a wall extending along the cliff’s edge along their right side. The gate was lifted, ready to slide closed and lock when needed, but for now the arch invited all willing to enter. White flags lined the wall, almost invisible against the white sky beyond.
They received some curious glances from the citizens as they approached the first set of buildings cut into the cliff. Fair-skinned and dark-haired, most of the residents were bundled in layers of fur and wool and heavy cloth.
“Shall I board your horses?” A young boy jumped into their path and held out his hands for their reins. “We have a stable right there”—he pointed behind him—“as horses aren’t allowed in the city. They’ve led to too many accidents.”
Kalen glanced around and saw that the only animals were small goats pulling carts of sorts. No horses or mules or full-size wagons. He and Luna dismounted, and Cirrus slipped off his animal. Kalen took the prince’s pack and added it to his own.
“Do you have any suggestions for lodging?” Kalen asked as the boy gathered the reins.
“There are a few places along this road, or uptown.” He glanced up the mountain cliff. “Some people stay at the monastery. They’ve opened a section to lodging, and it’s the cheapest option by far.”
Kalen nodded. That was exactly where they would go. “Where is it?”
“Unfortunately, it’s on the other side of town. You’ll have to wind your way up and along the path.”
“Splendid.” Cirrus frowned and tightened his cloak. His teeth had started to chatter, despite the continued beading of sweat on his forehead.
“Where might an apothecary be?” Luna asked.
“Uptown as well.”
Luna snaked an arm around Cirrus’s lower back and urged him forward. “Come on. The sooner we get you something for the pain, the better your disposition will become.”
“I doubt that,” Kalen said as he set off at a brisk pace down the path. They reached a break in the road that branched off to the left. Steep steps were cut into the cliff to lead up to the next level.
“Excuse me.” Luna flagged a young woman, dressed in furs, who walked along the street. “Is that the only way up to those shops?”
“If you don’t want to navigate the steps, you can follow this street to the end where it curves around. It’s a little more gradual.”
Luna thanked the woman and turned to the boys. “Which way?”
“Stairs,” Kalen said at the same time Cirrus replied, “Street.”
She took Cirrus’s good arm and turned to walk down the street.
“Wait. Why does he win?” Kalen asked.
“Because he’s injured.”
Kalen eyed the stairs again. “I’ll go that way and try to find the apothecary. No sense wasting time.” He had bounded up ten steps to a landing before they had walked even a yard along the street.
Kalen’s breaths came heavy and fogged the air by the time he reached the top of the steps and turned slowly around to look at just how many stories he had climbed. It felt as if he could topple over and spear himself on one of the weather vanes sticking out of a rooftop below. A sense of vertigo sent his body swaying, and he backed away from the edge. He took in the length of the street, spotting the apothecary shop sign a few doors away.
A tinkle of bells and a blast of warm air greeted him when he opened the door. A fire popped in a hearth in the corner, and a woman stood behind a marble counter. She wore a long dress and a white fur cape draped around her shoulders. Dark hair was piled high and heavy on her head, with loose strands tumbling haphazardly down her back.
“Welcome, how may I help you?” Her voice was low but soft.
“My friend is on his way. He was bitten by a mountain cat, and I was hoping to get something to ease his discomfort.” Kalen glanced at the wall of jars opposite the window. They were filled with powders and liquids—bright blue and dull gray, powdered yellow and glowing green—and loose tea and bits of what could have been bone or bark or stones.
“A mountain cat?” Her eyebrows knit in concern.
“Yes, we were attacked a few hours outside of town. Our horses were the intended victims. My friend chose to intervene.”
“I’m glad you escaped mostly unscathed, and of course I can help. I will put together something for infection and pain, but I’ll definitely want to examine the wound.”
She introduced herself as Jules as she placed a small metal stand on the countertop and filled it with empty vials. Deft fingers opened jars, and she carefully measured powders into a mortar. She used a pestle to grind the coarse powder into something finer before using a dropper to add a pale liquid. A pitcher on the counter held water, which she poured in until the concoction bubbled and turned a burnt amber color. She filled three of the vials and stoppered them.
The door flew open, and Cirrus and Luna stepped inside. Luna stomped the snow off her feet and threw back her hood at the warmth in the room. The apothecary’s eyes widened as she took in Luna’s hair and eyes before she turned to Cirrus, who stood silent near the door, gripping his arm. She beckoned him over and had him sit on a stool at the counter. He breathed hard through his nose, and his skin paled as he slipped off the cloak and Jules undressed the wound. A hiss escaped him as she slowly removed the fabric from his skin.
“They’ll need stitches. At least these two”—Jules pointed where the top teeth had sunk into Cirrus’s bicep—“where the punctures are deepest.”
Cirrus’s face whitened even further. “I’m not really a fan of needles.”
“Seriously?” Luna stared at him. “Don’t you go into combat and stab people? You’re afraid of a needle?”
Cirrus tossed a glare over his shoulder at her.
Jules walked behind the counter. “I’ve got something to help.” She crouched, her dark curls hardly visible over the top of the marble slab. When she stood again, Kalen inhaled sharply.
Nestled in her arms was a small chest, swirls tracing its sides.
“Put that away,” Kalen said. He stepped in front of Cirrus to protect him.
Jules frowned as she placed it on the counter, her fingers pushing at the clasp. “Just wait a moment—”
Kalen was reaching out to grab the box when it popped open. His concern didn’t seem quite as pressing as it had before. His shoulders fell, and the warmth of the room eased all the tension from them.
Jules lifted a pendant, and the world seemed right again.
Similar in style to the cracked one buried in the chest on the island, this pendant had a silver base, and the crystal was a clear blue. She reached over and draped the pendant around Cirrus’s neck.
“What is going on here?” Luna looked at everyone like they’d gone insane.
“It’s a calming stone.” Jules motioned for Kalen to step behind Cirrus. “Would you mind helping me to keep him still?”
“Where did you get it?” Kalen moved over and gripped his shoulders.
“Someone made it for me, a local artisan in town.”
“We need to meet her,” Luna said.
“Him.” Jules arranged a needle and thin thread on the counter.
Kalen’s mind churned, despite the soothing calm of the crystal. Him. Not a her. Not the princess.
Luna leaned in. “We need to meet this person.”
“May I ask why?” Jules glanced at Luna as she threaded the needle. “He doesn’t create these for just anyone.” She positioned Kalen’s hands such that he gripped Cirrus’s shoulder firmly in one hand and held the prince’s wrist with the other.
“We can provide money,” Kalen assured her.
“I definitely need one of these,” Cirrus said. “I could probably sleep through the night.”
“I’ll see about making an introduction.” Jules held the needle above Cirrus’s arm. “Take a deep breath and exhale. This will hurt.”
He winced but otherwise remained still as she deftly stitched up the puncture wounds. She knotted the string and bandaged Cirrus’s arm before removing the pendant from his neck.
His good hand lifted as if he wanted to grab it, but Kalen kicked at his foot where it rested near the stool.
After Jules locked the magicked jewel away, the room felt suddenly colder, life suddenly less serene. Kalen tensed as the urgency of their mission returned. The sooner they were on their way to finding Reign, the better.
Jules turned to them. “I will send a message to see if he’s available this evening, after I’ve closed the shop. Return here in a few hours?”
Kalen nodded. “We will see you then.”