Page 199 of Mud

I struggled to make sense of those two words—familiar, yet I couldn’t really remember what the hell they meant.

Taland must have realized it because he added, “It’s a fungi, magically altered. The only cure is magic, and magic isn’t working.”

“H-H-Have you tried?” I asked, my chin quivering so badly, and I knew the answer wasyes,but I had to ask.

“Yes,” Taland whispered with a nod. “I tried a fourth degree—didn’t work.”

That settled it. If a fourth-degree spell didn’t work, nothing would. Even the more powerful magical diseases were third. Taland could pull them off flawlessly, so I didn’t doubt that he’d gotten the fourth degree one right. He was powerful, very powerful. Ifhecouldn’t complete this challenge without blood on his hands, nobody could.

“Are they…are they in pain?” I dared to ask as he settled against the edge of the raised ice at the vulcera’s back.

“I don’t think they’re aware of what’s happening to them. I could be mistaken—the studies we learned about were done on people, not animals. But even if they are in pain, it isn’t much,” Taland said.

I was tempted to smile—him and that memory of his. He remembered all the lessons while I couldn’t even think of a single spell I’d have used to save the vulcera if I’d had magic. I’d have tried everything until I exhausted myself completely—and I couldn’t even do that. Comical, really.

We didn’t say anything else for a while, Taland and I. We just sat there and petted our fake familiars that felt so incredibly real. My own body was mimicking that of my vulcera—my breaths were fast and shallow, my eyes half open, and I was dying to lie down, but I didn’t want to fall asleep when she could need me.

Taland was the same. He never once moved his hand from the eagle’s back under his jacket, his other finger slowly moving up and down the curve of his beak.

More screams—two more. They came from far away, so I didn’t even bother to try to look, to see with my eyes, too, the pain of those players who had chosen to rid their familiars of their suffering and themselves of this fucking challenge.

“What would you have named her?”

Taland’s voice was low, cold. Merely the ghost of an actual voice.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It feels like…she already has a name.” And any I’d try to give her would be just wrong. “You?”

“I thinkAquilawould do just fine,” Taland muttered.

I nodded. “Fits.” Aquila was Latin for eagle. Simple, straightforward. Just like the creature barely breathing on his lap.

And the way Taland was touching him, the way he wassufferingtogether with him, just like I was suffering with my vulcera…

My eyes were stuck on his face for a long time. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t get my brain to shut up for a second, even though it wasn’t any of my business.

It wasn’t any of my business what Taland had done, especially while he was in a prisonIsent him to, but my mouth couldn’t remain shut. The words refused to stayinside me. It felt like they’d break my teeth if I didn’t let them out willingly.

“I know I asked you before…” My voice trailed off for a moment. “But why did you do it?”

Taland looked up at me. “Do what?”

“That kid,” I said, and my voice broke. “That boy in prison. You…you almost killed him.”

Because I could,he said that first time I asked him, but it was different then. We weren’t so…closethen, even if this was just an illusion.

But seeing him like this now with that eagle, it made the images Cassie had showed me on that screen flash before my eyes.

Of him, scaring the tattoo artist.

Of him in front of the kid’s cell.

Of all that magic coming out of him, wrapping up around his skinny body…

The thoughts now were the same as they had been then—he’s a monster!

No, this is allmyfault.

What have I done?!

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