Page 56 of The Book of Legends
But we both know it isn’t Newt who sent her.
When we arrive at Newt's cottage, I am enveloped in a herbal haze that lingers on my skin like the smell of ash and blood. Thorny ivy and thick-barked roots form a web around the healer's space, making it difficult to see. The inside is filled with the keen burn of new incense and the buzz of old sigils.
Have a seat,” she instructs.
Suddenly, Newt puts a hand covered in icy salve on my ribcage, and I recoil from the pain. A sudden, intense, and searing agony bursts from deep inside. Quickly, deep purple bruises spring up all over my body, like a dropped glass of wine.
“It's fortunate he didn't break any bones,” Newt says in a low, gravelly voice, her mouth stiff as she looks toward the doorway where Kainen waits—a figure sculpted from wrath and remorse, his expression motionless.
I try to swallow my pride and the agony as I sit rigidly on the side of the bed. “What did you actually do to Tristan?”
Rounded, menacing, and unintelligible, Kainen's golden eyes pierce into me. “He meddled. It's up to me to ensure your safety from now on.”
Then something else I can't make out crosses his expression. Perhaps shame is the emotion that flits across his eyes, along with something I'm unfamiliar with. But just as I'm about to capture it, it disappears.
Newt growls. “I would prefer to finish this before she begins to bleed again, if you two have finished flailing about like wyverns in heat.”
“How come I wasn't bleeding when I woke up?”
“I gave you something that stops the bleeding and heals you rapidly. Also, something to numb the pain.”
Thunder rumbles outside, just beyond the horizon. The atmosphere seems tense, as if tensions are building up to a breaking point, whether it be a diplomatic agreement or a violent conflict.
“In one hour, we depart for the High Court,” Kainen announces.
I turn to face him. “Because of Tristan?”
“Because a war within our borders cannot happen. The Nightfallen is among us.”
A shiver of fear snakes through my body. “And I’m supposed to do what, exactly?”
Kainen steps into the light. His eyes catch the flicker of flame in a nearby brazier and reflect it like gold. “Breathe,” he says, his voice hardening. “Breathe, and try not to get us executed by the Queen.”
The dreary Nythyan winds whip outside Newt's cottage, yanking at my cloak like a pair of fingers with an excess of joints. The dark woods speak a language I'm only beginning to decipher; their warnings are fragile and unformed, likerecollections of a life I never had. I feel like I'm starting to be marked by this world. Perhaps it has already done so.
As we near the river, Kainen walks silently by my side, cloak drawn tightly around me. A sleek black boat, its wood adorned with silver veins, is waiting for us. Ancient and unintelligible inscriptions vibrate with calm enchantment and shimmer across its sails.
Nobody says a word. Every breath is short and piercing because of the dense tension in the air.
My hand lands on Kainen's waist as he assists me onboard the boat. For an unnecessary amount of time, it lingers. The touch makes me wince, but I resist the need to withdraw.
“You should have allowed me to go back,” I say as the boat slides into the River of Blood. “I'm sorry for causing so much trouble.”
He jumps right in. ““Tristan got what he deserved. It was a long time coming and not until I figure out who you are. Plus, I need to ensure the Fae are not out for blood. They are an integral part of Nythia. The magic they wield is an important part of Nythia's survival.”
As we fade into the murky crimson stream and the mystery beyond, his words reverberate in my bones and in the ethereal fog that envelops us.
As we fade into the murky crimson stream and the mystery beyond, his words reverberate in my bones and in the ethereal fog that envelops us.
Skating over the blood-red river like a ghost in the darkness, the boat makes the world seem as if it were painted upon it. The veil mysteriously lifts as we enter Fae realms, exposing a seashore adorned with crystal trees and flowers that bloom with light instead of petals, creating an eerie and mesmerizing sight.
As soon as my boots hit the floor, my breath stops. Beneath my feet, the dirt gleams with a fine dust that seems to havebeen created from crushed gemstones and an ancient substance, perhaps bones. The air is dense with magic, twice as heavy as fog. It caresses my flesh as if it were breathing. I am intrigued.
Kainen warns us not to talk until he specifically commands us to as we start to climb the crystal stairs. “However, remain silent if they reveal your real identity. The Queen always holds court during the Crescent Rise. It’s when the veil between futures is thinnest.”
My chest tightens as I look at him. “For what reason?”
Behind me, Malachi responds, “Because its the way it is done and always remember Fae do not lie,” in a low, deep voice that sounds less human and more like an ancient being plucked from the earth and fire. “However, you will be bound by hidden realities.”
