Page 25 of A Shard of Ice

I don’t have time to dwell on it. Instead, I focus my attention on Cyrano. He is shivering, moaning in his sleep. His cheeks are flushed. He doesn’t look good at all.

I kneel next to him, the water lapping around my legs. Then I rub my hands together, feeling the magic well inside me.

I pull it up to the surface, drawing it forth, letting it build up higher and higher.

It starts to flow from my fingertips in a soft golden light that envelops Cyrano’s body. I close my eyes for a few moments, focusing all of my energy on healing him, on mending what is broken. I work on pushing out the infection that is taking hold of him. Then, on knitting the flesh.

Kyrie sucks in a breath as the light dances around us, the air tinged with power. She reaches out a hand tentatively, as if to touch the magic itself, but then pulls back.

Minutes pass like hours as I pour every ounce of my strength into the healing spell. The gentle lapping of the water against my legs becomes a soothing rhythm, guiding me deeper into the well of power within.

It’s working. I know it is. I can feel it happen.

With a final surge of power, the light flares brightly before dissipating altogether. The stitches Kyrie put in yesterday fall out. Cyrano’s breathing steadies, his color returning to normal as the fever breaks.

I let out a shaky breath, exhaustion washing over me like a tidal wave. Kyrie kneels across from me, her eyes filled with such emotion.

“You did it.”

I don’t say anything.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen a fae use their magic for good,” she whispers. “At least, it’s the first time since I was a little girl.”

“I’m sorry you have come to expect the worst of us.”

“Why? What changed? Just because an evil queen rules our realm now?”

“I don’t know. All I can tell you is that something very definitely has changed. Something is going on. We’re not inherently a bad species.” I shrug. “We’re just not. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t have the answers. You’d better believe that I will find out.”

Her eyes narrow, and slowly but surely, distrust bleeds in. “Let’s get him into the shade,” she says, changing the subject.

I nod. “That’s a good idea.” I move to pick Cyrano up, putting my arms under his shoulders. “I took away the infection and have healed his wounds, but he is still weak. He—”

Cyrano opens his eyes and starts screaming. “Let me go! Put me down. Unhand me at once.”

“It’s alright, Cyrano,” Kyrie tries to calm him.

“It’s not alright. It’s a fae. It’s…” He scrambles away from me, pulling in a breath and looking down at himself. “I was injured. You cut me. What did you do to me?” He looks at me with blazing eyes as he tries to stand but falls back to his knees instead. “What have you done?” He touches his chest. I may have healed his wounds, but the scars still remain. He is looking at them like they are still open and bleeding.

“You’re weak. You were injured,” Kyrie tells him.

“By him.” Cyrano turns blazing eyes on me. “What did you do to me, you bastard fae?” he yells.

“No, he helped you,” Kyrie says. “You’re safe now. You were—”

“I’m not safe. It’s… He…”

“He saved you,” Kyrie tries again.

“No.” Cyrano shakes his head.

“This is Taylor. You know Taylor.”

Cyrano squints at me. His eyes widen. “He’s…it’s…an abomination. What black magic? What sorcery is this?”

“I swear, he’s a good fae.”

“No such thing,” Cyrano spits. “The only thing they’re good for is death.”

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