Page 97 of The Exile's Curse

"Which is?"

"That I am now the Marquesse of Castaigne. I outrank you. And I'm taking my husband home. If you think the emperor would prefer to risk one of his lords, not to mention his best Truth Seeker, then you can argue with me about it when you return to Lumia. You can stay here and continue the mining negotiations, but I will be leaving in the morning with my husband. I will take some of the blood and water mages with me to help the navire team. I’m sure the Elenian ambassador can send you more soldiers to make up the numbers temporarily. Just as I am sure the emperor will arrange for another Truth Seeker to join you as fast as humanly possible to finish dealing with House Elannon. But I will not let Lucien die because he did not receive the best care possible. I am taking my husband home."

Lucien survived the night, though he didn’t wake despite her magic and the best efforts of the healers. Irina and Ava had attended him through the night, and Katiya had stayed to keep them company, organizing tea and food and whatever supplies the royve called for. But Lucien remained stubbornly unconscious, his pulse still weakened.

As the sun crept over the horizon, the frown Ava had worn half the night deepened. "If it was just firewort, then he should have roused by now. The patyiet should have staved off the worst of the hurt. But he is...out of balance, and I cannot determine the cause yet."

She and Irina exchanged a glance.

“What?” Chloe said from her chair beside his bed. Despite the power she was channeling from the ley line, she was beginning to feel fatigue shadowing her senses.

“If he were Andalyssian, some might say he’d been cursed,” Irina said. “The old stories talk about magic being pulled out of shape. Out of balance.”

“Curses are superstition,” Ava said firmly. “And old stories are just that.”

“Silya said something about curses,” Chloe said. She rubbed the hand not holding Lucien’s over her forehead. “When we returned from the hunt. The man who approached me, his magic did feel strange. It sounded out of tune.”

“Unbalanced,” Ava said. “It would be for an Andalyssian, if he was using a strong illusion.” She frowned down at Lucien. “But Lord Castaigne feels unbalanced to me anyway. His talent for illusion warps the rest. I don’t think I could tell if something had been done to him. Do you sense anything different?”

Chloe shook her head. “Not that I’ve noticed. His magic is fainter, perhaps, but that’s because he’s unconscious.”

“Good,” Ava said. “Though that doesn’t necessarily help us. The fact remains that he is still sleeping. You were right, Chloe. He needs more help than we can give.”

Which only strengthened her resolve to take him home. Ava and Irina understood firewort, but they didn't understand Illvyan mages. She needed Illvyan healers. “The healers at the main temple in Lumia are the best in the empire. If anyone can figure this out, they can." She glanced down at Lucien, willing him to wake through the bond. So far her efforts had been as ineffectual as the healer’s. He remained stubbornly asleep, his skin paler than it should be and his pulse still skittering where it should be steady.

"Perhaps Irina can accompany me down to Haalbrod. She can tell me more about what I need to know about treating him." She trusted Irina, and she doubted the king would want to be without his chief healer with others in the court still being treated for their symptoms. There'd been a stream of healers knocking on the door during the night to consult with Ava about the others who’d been impacted by the kafiet. Not in the same way as Lucien, Ava had been right about that, but still sick enough to concern the healers.

"I could come, too," Ava offered.

"You are needed here," Chloe said firmly. "Irina will be enough. Once Lucien is safely on board the navire, she can return. Now, let's get my husband home."

The journey out of the Eissgora to Haalbrod was like a fever dream. Or a nightmare. The carriages the king provided were more comfortable than the charguerres and the horses nimbler than fer-taureau, but the road was still difficult and the journey too slow. They’d fashioned a stretcher for Lucien, which swayed with the rhythm of the horses. He didn’t rouse for any of it, but every jolt and shudder of the carriage around her was an echo of the shuddering beat of his heart, reminding her they were losing time with every second.

Though he seemed to be holding steady, there was no improvement. Her fatigue grew stronger, forcing her to pull more power to stave it off. But she had redwort tea in her medicine case. That would keep her awake for several days if necessary. Long enough to get back to Lumia. The navire wouldn't need to land as often as it had on the journey to Andalyssia. There would be no mail to deliver, no diplomatic duties to attend. They would stop once to take on a new mage team. The journey should take only three days, according to Gilles’s calculations.

She could last that long. Shewouldlast that long.

She'd lost a husband to politics once before. She wasn't about to lose a second, no matter how they'd come to be married. Back in Deephilm, they would be hunting for answers. Mikvel had come to see them off but had told her that, so far, they hadn’t found the man who’d served Lucien. Though how he could be sure without a Truth Seeker was a point she’d been too tired to raise. Time enough to untangle the mess once Lucien was safe.

Irina fed her cups of tea and recited a steady stream of alarming Andalyssian poison lore at her as they descended the mountain. It would have been useful, Chloe thought vaguely at one point, if Irina were a sanctii. Then she could have dumped it all straight into her head, like a reveille.

But she wasn't, so Chloe did her best to pay attention.

By the time they reached Haalbrod, the sun was low in the sky. The yard where the navire had landed was a swirl of torches and braziers, black-clad Imperial soldiers and mages swarming around the carriages.

Chloe hugged Irina goodbye, then focused solely on the passage of Lucien's stretcher up onto the navire and down into one of the cabins.

She organized her bags and the various herbs and medicines Ava and Irina had provided, finding safe places for them between checking on Lucien every few minutes. She only registered the sensation of the navire lifting into the air when her link to the ley lines began to stretch and she had to focus harder to reach them.

After that, the world reduced to just Lucien and keeping him alive.

Several hours passed before there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Giane entered, carrying a tray of food that she set on the table. She and Theo were amongst the mages sent to fly the navire back to Lumia. "I brought food," she said. "You need to eat. Also, we have a problem."

"Unless we're about to crash, problems can wait," Chloe said. Her stomach growled at the smell of the food, but she kept her attention on Lucien.

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