We’ve crossed over Highwyn.” Joth was nudging me awake and smiled when I opened my eyes. I sat up, surprised to find myself feeling better than I had before, while Joth’s shoulders seemed heavier than when I’d last seen them. I suspected that, as close as he had been holding me as we flew, I must have drawn some of his strength to myself.
I tugged at the rag Loelle had wrapped around my palm after I had held the knife. The cut was already healed, further evidence that I had pulled strength from Joth. Yet even if he was weaker, he continued to hold me close.
“Highwyn?” I had expected the dragon would fly us south to Nessel, where Simon would be. If Simon had come to Highwyn, it would be for only one reason.
“Basil’s rescue,” I mumbled. Either he had been rescued, or was still in need of rescue. Or they had failed in the rescue but had obtained the location of the Olden Blade.
I hoped it was the first, or at least that he was alive. I had not always treated Basil as kindly as I ought to have done. Despite all of that, he had cared for me, and I desperately wanted him to be safe and well.
It wasn’t long before the dragon flew lower and I began to recognize the roads and buildings beneath us. More specifically, I recognized my former home, Woodcourt. A long, scorched line cut across what had once been our gardens, and I saw fallen bodies. The dragon must have done this too.
The dragon landed near the rear entrance, and Joth dismounted first, then helped me slide onto solid ground. My feet were barely down on the ground before Trina ran outside, calling my name.
“Is Basil here?” I asked.
Her eyes widened momentarily, surprised that I knew why I was here, then she said, “His life is in grave danger. Can you help him?”
“She’s still recovering from having helped someone else,” Joth said.
“Who are you?” If Trina picked up on the protective tone in Joth’s voice, she clearly resented it.
“I’ll do everything I can,” I said. “Take me to him.”
Trina led the way into Woodcourt and toward the east wing, my parents’ half of the home. As we ran, I asked, “Simon, is he—”
“He’s here, but he’s getting bandaged. Nothing serious,” she quickly added. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you as soon as he can.”
By then, we had reached the door to Sir Henry’s room. I hesitated in the corridor, dreading going inside. It was difficult enough to return to Woodcourt, mostly because of who my adopted father had been in any of our forced interactions. I’d rarely been allowed into his room. If anything, it was his sanctuary from me. But if Basil was in there, then I needed to enter.
I drew in a deep breath and held it when I opened the door. Immediately, my concern for having to think of my adopted father shifted to looking at Captain Tenger, who stood to greet me. He gave me a polite nod, but I did not return it. I did not trust what he might do the second my head was down, and I was surprised he trusted me enough to bring me here.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Has Basil said anything?” When Tenger shook his head, I added, “Then leave us alone. I need privacy to do this.”
That wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t need the privacy, but I wanted it, and certainly wanted it from Tenger.
“Trina will stay—” Tenger began.
“Alone!” I snapped.
Joth began directing him and Trina toward the door, with both of them now asking who he was. When they left, Joth closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with Basil.
I warmed the clearstone in the room, brightening its light, then immediately set to work. Basil’s cheeks and eyes were sunken in, and his neck was so thin, I wondered how it held up his head. I placed one hand over his heart and felt a faint, reluctant thump, each one slower than the one before it. He was within minutes of death.
No sooner had I connected with Basil than I drew in a harsh gasp, sensing just a portion of what had happened to him, what was still happening. Endrick had tortured him physically, but there was also an internal torture I didn’t fully understand. It was twisting his soul, causing a torment I also felt in my own flesh. I would have to take as much as I could to have any chance of saving him.
I began with his heart, giving him strength until his pulse evened out. He wasn’t out of danger yet, but I didn’t want to give him too much too fast, for both our sakes.
Then I drew in some of the curse, which seemed to create holes within me that could not be filled by anything other than the ice that was already there. Allowing the ice to expand was the only way I could continue my work, but even then, I finally could do no more.
No more than half, never more than half.
While I rested, I noticed a washbasin on the table beside him. I took the rag and tenderly washed Basil’s face, then poured a few drops of water into his mouth.
I gave him a little more strength after that, until his chest began to rise and fall with the deeper breaths he was taking. I was fairly sure I sensed some broken ribs, or hopefully they were only badly bruised, but I couldn’t heal them as completely as Loelle would. I could only give him strength to live.
I continued to give, feeling myself weaken, especially because it hadn’t been long since I had helped Darrow. And finally, I knew I had to quit, or I would have nothing left. I laid my head on the side of Basil’s bed and fell asleep.
Sometime very early in the morning, I felt a hand in my hair. Startled, I sat up straight and saw Basil watching me. His smile was thin and weak, but it was there. He was clearly struggling to keep himself awake, and he seemed to be having trouble speaking.
I reached for a cup and offered him more water. He took a few sips, then almost mouthed the words as he whispered, “Olden Blade.”
“Did you tell them where it is?” I asked. “Do they know?”
His eyes darted to the right and fear passed through them, but when he looked back at me, he shook his head, very faintly.
“Can you tell me where it is?” I asked.
He nodded and motioned for me to lean in closer, which I did. His head dropped back on the pillow, and for a moment, I was sure he had fallen asleep, but then I heard the words Lily’s grave.
I knew the exact moment when Kestra arrived. I felt it in Rawk’s arrival, his landing behind Woodcourt like a soft thud in my chest. But even more, I felt her nearby. I made a move to stand and greet her, but Harlyn put her hands on my shoulders and pressed me back into the chair. “I have to bind this wound. Do you want to bleed all over her for a greeting?”
She was being kinder than she needed to be, which only worsened the guilt I felt. But maybe that was because she felt guilty too.
While she worked on my shoulder, the guilt must have become too much, for when she spoke, it was with one long breath that sounded as if it had been rehearsed. “Before you speak to Kestra, I ought to tell you something. The night she left Nessel, I wasn’t part of the plan, but I knew of it.”
She waited for me to respond, but my chest had tightened and I didn’t trust myself to speak. If I did, I was sure we’d both regret what followed.
Finally, she continued. “She came into your room and saw the infection in your arm, how sick it was making you. I spoke with Kestra myself. I’m the one who convinced her to leave.”