Page 20 of Across an Endless Sea

If he weren’t bound to Rose, he’d be dead twice over by now.

“According to the healers,” I continue, “heishealing, but it’s slow. Even when Rose reincarnated, the process didn’t speed up. He’s not drawing from her.”

“Why not?” Drystan growls.

“You’ve never done it, have you?” Bree whispers, drawing our attention to him. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“Enlighten us,” Drystan retorts with an imperious wave of his hand.

“You feel her getting weaker,” Bree says, still rubbing his hand. “I suppose if she connected to Danu, it wouldn’t be so bad, but she doesn’t. She just gives you her life force. No hesitation. No barriers.”

That… sounds like Rose. She has no regard for the fact thatwe’resupposed to guardher.

“It makes you feel lower than dirt,” Bree whispers, looking away. “I imagine that’s why Lore is holding back. He doesn’t want to weaken her.”

“I’d rather she was weak and here—” Drystan cuts off as the door opens.

It’s just Kitarni. Goddess, the dryad looks exhausted. Her hair is moulting leaves onto her shoulders, and the robes she’s wearing are crumpled, like she’s slept in them.

She startles as she notices us, then relaxes, her shoulders drooping.

“Good, you’re all here,” she murmurs, moving towards Lore and sinking to her knees beside him.

From a satchel at her side, she draws a small pewter flask, uncorks it, and wafts her hand over the neck to dispel the red smoke that escapes.

“Are you a healer?” I ask, suddenly realising I’ve never asked the high priestess what her magic is.

She scoffs as she rests the flask against Lore’s lips and gently tilts it until the liquid runs into his mouth. “Not quite. My gift is potions. This should help encourage his bones to regrow.”

“How quickly?” Drystan demands.

Kitarni finishes giving Lore the medicine before turning and levelling him with a look that would make lesser men quail in their boots. “He shattered every bone in his body. It’s not going to be a fast process.”

“Rose is on a ship headed for the Endless Sea,” Drystan replies. “We don’t have time for him to heal. Can’t you give him a potion to force him to draw from her?”

Kitarni pinches the bridge of her nose. “Huntsman, I understand your frustration, but short of finding a fae who knows his true name and can command him to do so, waiting for his recovery is our only option. He’s making good progress, considering his brain was speared through with iron. Anyone else would be dead.”

Because of the oath, none of us can die until Rose decides to move on.

“If Rose is truly on her way to Fellgotha, there’s nothing we can do,” Kitarni says, glancing over at Florian for a second before turning to us. “Except have things ready for her return. We need to put all of our efforts into breaking the siege—”

“Her return?” I ask, blankly. “You don’t think Caed’s going to magically decide to put her back on a ship and send her home after presenting her to his murderous king, do you?”

“Danu works in mysterious ways,” Kitarni replies. “A Nicnevin is never truly captive. They always have a way out.”

“Death,” Drystan mutters, grumpily. “So, we have to wait until things become so desperate that she’d rather die than continue to live in captivity, and then hope that she’s not so beaten down that she decides to accept Danu’s offer of rest in the Otherworld?” He curses.

“She’s not completely defenceless,” Bree says, extending his wrist, which has turned red where he’s been rubbing it. “I don’t know how it happened, but she took one of my tattoos with her when I tried to grab her from the ship.”

Kitarni approaches, and he tenses, but she makes no move to touch him. Instead, she stares at the place where the nathair once coiled around his forearm. It’s the only bare patch of skin he has, and his other tattoos are already shifting to fill the space.

“It’s not unheard of,” the high priestess murmurs thoughtfully. “But normally púcaí can only transfer an animal when they’re mate bonded, and only temporarily. I suppose the bond between the Nicnevin and her Guard must have enabled your nathair to switch between you in the same way.”

“Espen will protect her.”

Great. Rose is alone, and her one defence is a snake tattoo. I’m sure that will save her from Elatha and every other Fomorian looking for revenge.

Although, given the size of a nathair, it can at least do some damage. Add in the species’ deadly and indescribably painful venom, and suddenly I do feel a bit better.

---