Mathilda waves us forward as we approach. All of the trainees have disappeared into the Bitter Patch ahead of her. Nathaniel and Hagan float, waiting, in front of the wash of crimson and black foliage. My heart lurches, knowing that I’m holding up Nathaniel’s healing.
I race forward, pushing myself as fast I can go. I’d run if I could.
As soon as I reach Nathaniel’s side, Mathilda uses her magic to pull aside the vines covering the opening into the tunnel through the Bitter Patch.
Nathaniel appears calm. He could be sleeping except for his shallow breathing. His expression hasn’t changed since I used my power to ease his mind, his face free from pain, even though he’s deathly pale.
I hurry behind them as Mathilda maneuvers both men through the opening. They won’t fit side by side. She floats Hagan ahead of her while Nathaniel follows. It’s a small mercy that I can follow right behind him as he proceeds through the tunnel of vines and bushes.
Yesterday, he dyed my hair in the tunnel on the other side of the Bitter Patch. He planted kisses on my neck and cheeks, and I fell asleep because of his touch, a rare moment of peace.
Esther follows close behind me with Christiana behind her and Geordie taking up the rear.
“Aura,” Mathilda calls back, turning slightly. “Will you tell us what happened in the fight between Hagan and Nathaniel?”
I open my mouth to answer, but Christiana interrupts me. “We can’t trust her version of events.”
Mathilda presses her lips together. “Very well. If you won’t believe her, then we will wait to hear it from Nathaniel himself.”
We travel silently for the next ten minutes. The pace is grueling—it would be nothing if I weren’t injured, but every step hurts.
I watch Nathaniel’s chest carefully, checking for signs that his condition is deteriorating, but he appears stable. Hagan remains unconscious, although the color is returning to his cheeks.
Finally, we exit the protective boundary of the Bitter Patch into Null itself. I sense the spell lift from my tongue—the protective magic that stops anyone speaking about what happens here—finally able to think clearly about this place and the people who live inside its walls.
The other trainees have already taken up positions to form a wide guard around us, keeping their eyes on me, even if their weapons are lowered. I recognize many of their faces, but I don’t see Emily or the other teens among them. It appears that only the older trainees have come out to guard me.
Mathilda calls ahead of us. “Hurry! I will take Nathaniel and Hagan to the food hall. I can treat them there.”
“What about Nathaniel’s hut?” I ask, not expecting her to answer me, but she half-turns again.
“See for yourself,” Mathilda says, pointing.
Nathaniel’s hut is set slightly back and apart from the others, closest to the eastern side of Null. As we pass it, I inhale the scent of cedarwood and follow Mathilda’s pointed finger toward the porch.
A sea of glitter bulbs fills the space between the top step and the door. They’re each no bigger than my closed fist, but there are so many of them that they gleam and sparkle like a deadly ocean.
I miss a step. “What is this?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” Christiana snaps, suddenly a picture of rage beside me. “They floated into Null this morning. All of them landed right there on Nathaniel’s porch. A clever assassination plan. The only way your queen would know where to send them is if you told her about us. If Nathaniel had been inside his hut, he would have been killed.”
“You brought terror into the heart of Null,” Esther says with an angry stare. “We evacuated everyone to the other side of the village.”
Mathilda casts me a quick glance. “I’ve placed a protective barrier around Nathaniel’s hut to stop anyone going near it, but it will take a miracle to contain the explosive power of that many bulbs if they’re triggered.”
I shake my head in shock. Until yesterday, I’d never seen or heard of glitter bulbs separating from the field. Imatra created the glitter field during the final battle between the fae and the humans—the battle during which I annihilated the human army. The glitter field is meant to be a defense mechanism along the border. Every stem of glitter grass carries a deadly bulb at the top. If disturbed by a living creature, the bulbs explode, cutting to shreds anything within its wide blast radius.
Last night, when the Vanem Dragon flew to Fell country to bind Nathaniel and Hagan to their fight, he also brought news that parts of the glitter field had become airborne. The Dragon said that several glitter bulbs had drifted into Bright and exploded there. Luckily, nobody was hurt, but it prompted Imatra to gather her guards and prepare for an attack, believing that Cyrian’s dark magic was at play.
Several bulbs also drifted into Fell country and exploded in the Misty Gallows.
Now there are possibly a hundred of them, gathered like a humblebee swarm on Nathaniel’s porch, some of them piled precariously high on top of others. All it would take is a living presence to disturb them and they will explode with enough force to cut through every person and building around them.
They would cut down the humans like a scythe through wheat.
Nathaniel’s people will never believe that I had nothing to do with this.
In my deepest heart, I’m worried that I caused it somehow. The Vanem Dragon said that the first bulbs lifted off the field at the same time a glowing mold moth landed on top of it. I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it was the same moth that consumed the dust that remained on my hand after I stopped breathing at the burn site where I killed my parents.
“You sent the glitter bulbs here,” Geordie says, speaking up for the first time, his accusation striking my heart as hard as Esther’s declaration did. “This is the only place we’ve ever felt safe. We don’t anymore.”
I have no reply. I don’t even know if I can defuse the glitter bulbs. I’ve walked into the glitter field before and not been hurt, but I’m not sure what that many separated glitter bulbs will do if I step near them.
Mathilda’s expression remains shuttered as she hurries us along. When we reach the dining hall, she quickly orders the nearest trainees to shift the closest two tables so that they rest perpendicular to the door. She lays Nathaniel and Hagan down on them so that their feet are closest to the open door.
I move to follow her, but Christiana’s arm shoots out like a barrier, thumping into my stomach.
“You will stay out here,” she says. “Where we can see you.” She spins to Geordie. “Get the pole.”
He quickly disappears into the nearest building. I catch sight of tools inside it—shovels and fencing materials—before the door closes behind him.
Returning my attention to Nathaniel, I stand my ground as Mathilda’s dark light flashes. Pain strikes through me as patches of grass on the courtyard ahead of me shrivel and die. I’m worried about the extent to which she’ll have to drain our surroundings to heal him.
Anxiety builds inside me as she works. I can’t see what she’s doing or whether Nathaniel is responding to her power, whether or not he’s healing.
Geordie returns, holding a metal pole a little more than half his height that has a spike at the end of it and a hole through the center. He’s also carrying a large hammer, a coil of rope, and a short metal chain with large links at each end.