Page 153 of The Shadowed Oracle
Ingrid couldn’t help but laugh. “Me? High-born?” She pressed a thumb into her chest. “I’m far from it.”
Udel’s eyes widened, confused. “But your markings. I thought—well, I’ve never seen a low-born wearing them.”
“My markings?” she asked.
He pointed to the tattoos on her arms and hands. “Only high-born can afford that many.”
“Oh,” she chuckled. “Not where I’m from. On Earth, these are expensive but not unattainable.” This amused Ingrid for many reasons. She recalled all the teasing Franky gave her about her spending habits. How she’d spent so much on her skin, but wouldn’t spend a penny on clothing or any other luxuries. “Some might disagree, but…” She trailed off.
Looking at Udel, she saw that he was still perplexed.
“My lady,” he said adamantly. “You’re saying you received these markings on Earth? A human carved them?”
Ingrid nodded. “What about it?”
“The trees,” he blurted in response, pointing to the sides of her neck. “It’s a Lyperion. From the Heartwood.”
Ingrid couldn’t make sense of it. “Here? These?”
She hadn’t drawn the trees. She hadn’t even described them. All of her tattoos were plucked from her nightmares and visions—except those. They’d been her artist’s creation. Black leaves,slender trunk, and hauntingly strange flowers sprouting from the ground just below. Her visions had nothing to do with it.
“Are you sure?” Ingrid asked.
Udel didn’t have any doubt in his eyes as he declared, “Absolutely. That’s the Lyperion. My wife has a painting of one hanging in our dining room. Supposed to bring good luck.”
Ingrid was too drained of energy to be surprised. She only considered. That tattoo artist. Her friend. The one she’d gained and lost in such a short amount of time.
No.She stopped herself. The trees were just like any other. And just renditions of one, at that. Branches, trunk, leaves. How different could they really be?
“I best get back to work, my lady,” Udel said, noticing the turn in her demeanor.
“Yes, right,” Ingrid said groggily. She felt as though she was dreaming now. “I’m feeling a bit off, anyway.”
“Take to your cabin, my lady. Rest. You deserve it.”
“I think I’ll check on Callinora first. But if you need me, ask.”
He nodded humbly and walked off. There was a slight favor in his right leg and, seeing it so plainly now, Ingrid had the urge to stop him, to say something punchy and meaningful, expressing all her gratitude. But it took a moment to relay the message from her brain to her mouth.
“One more thing!” she called out.
Udel turned, waiting.
“Thank you,” Ingrid said. “For taking this on. For helping us.”
“My lady.” He bowed slightly and returned to his work.
The cabin was bright with candle fire, the one circular window fogging up from the chill outside. Arryn, Raidinn, Dean, Tyla and Veston all stood close to the bed, surrounding Callinora with their body heat. The princess was still breathing shallowly, as she’d been when the burned symbols had first disappeared, but since then she’d grown cold, her heart slowing a light thump.
Arryn was hysterical when gathering all the help he could. That newly whitened hair of his was disheveled from the effort it took to fetch all the others from their rooms, eyes red with tears, and repeating himself over and over.
“Healer!” he’d shouted. “We need a healer!”
It fell to Dean to inform him—there weren’t any on board.
Back in Maradenn, Callinora hadn’t been able to find a physician she trusted enough to send on the journey with them. All the best healers in court had been replaced by Ballius, who brought in a staff of Viator he could better control. The princess spent parts of every day scouring the kingdom, but none of the village healers agreed. They weren’t willing to risk that dangerous route where so many of their fellow Viator had been shipwrecked, never to return.
It had seemed small then, another risk to add to the list of many. Yet, now? Arryn was left in an impossible situation. To awaken to this horror, then have to sit there idly, helpless as his beloved clung to her life. His own ailments didn’t allow for anything else. The waves of pain from the broken marriage bond were excruciating now that all his senses had returned. He couldn’t possibly stay awake all night to watch over his wife. All he could do was make sure she had someone taking care of her. Or, at the very least, keep her company if the worst should happen.
