Page 122 of A Baron of Bonds
“She’s not just any medicus conduit, Karus. She heads them all in the Spire. Something else you’ve missed since you fell to this same spell seven years ago.”
His words stung, and I flinched at the harsh truth of them. “Then promise me you’ll break it. Promise me you’ll not let me get that far, and I’ll believe you. Tell the world you won’t let me lose myself again and I know you won’t because you keep your promises, Revich.” I gripped his vest, pulling him to me. “You won’t let me get lost again. Promise me.”
He closed his eyes and lowered his head. He drew a breath and whispered what I wanted to hear. “I promise.”
He kissedall of me that night.
Every curve, every space of sensitive skin came under his touch as if he was saying goodbye. As if he’d never touch me again.
As if I’d ever let that happen.
Clairannia’s letters were waiting for us when we returned that evening. The one addressed to Revich explained she did not have a solution to the illness, and continued to explain that the medicus conduits of Hyrithia still did not have an answer to how it was cured. They regularly studied those who had been inflicted and survived.
It was the letter addressed to me that tore my heart into more pieces.
“Karus, I can return to Felgren in two more months, but no sooner. I know you’ll figure this out. I know you’ll find a way to save Pompeii or at least keep him alive until I can come help you. My people need me here. There are rumors of strange occurrences in Hyrithia and I leave for the city in a few weeks, then I’ll come to you. I’m sure I can convince Figuerah to come, too. But promise me, Karus, that you will wait for us and stay safe. I’ll be on pins and needles awaiting your reply.
All my love,
Clairannia Lynns
P.S. When we arrive, we’re having that celebration, and don’t even think of planning it without me.”
I folded the letter again, setting it back on my bedside table. Revich slept in our bed, tossing in a fitful sleep.
“Compaynen,” I whispered, kissing his brow as the tension there settled and his breathing resumed at a steady pace.
I rose from our bed, pulling on a dark green robe over my nightgown. I paused at our door, looking back at him now sleeping peacefully. I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to do and do alone.
He needed rest.
I knew I did too, dawn just a few hours away, but I also knew rest would not come unless I had tried every option. Unless I had traversed every avenue I could think of to prevent what Revich so ardently feared.
I left quietly, my bare feet frozen across the black stone of the Fortress.
The kitchens were no longer warm and felt oddly foreign because of it. Holding my ball of green light above my hand, I rapped lightly on Pompeii’s door.
With no answer, I stepped inside, immediately calling to the fire to relight, adding a few more pieces of ash wood to the flames.
I sat at his side, feeling his forehead, now flushed, too warm to deny he was getting worse. I knew he’d been fighting. I knew his channeler magic was strong, and he had fought this illness for a week before faltering.
I also knew that time was slipping from our grasp faster than we were admitting to.
I knew I had one last choice to make before I felt there was no choice at all.
Whispering words and spells of restful sleep, I left, my legs leading me up the endless staircase, passing Heimlen’s study, passing the blank frame which had led to his rooms, passing the small alcove Rev and I had once used in our passion, just hours after we’d learned more about my connection to the Blight.
I reached the top of the staircase, hardly out of breath at all, and stepped into my old room.
I hadn’t returned since the day I had woken. I hadn’t returned since the day she spoke to me in my mind.
Little had changed, if anything at all.
My books were gone, now lining the shelves in the rooms Rev and I shared, my music box no longer on the vanity for me to ponder at its origins—I knew them.
My bed was neatly made, and my eyes flicked to the black stones that pressed together to make my ceiling. I remembered staring at them, confused at the emotions gifted to me by the rhyzolm, frustrated that I could not remember myself.
I moved the vanity chair to the slanted window, stepping on its seat and pulling the pin from the shutters. They swung open, and I caught them before they could rap against the stone and wake Philius, whose room shared a wall with mine.
