Page 82 of The High Mountain Court

Hale emerged behind her and leapt to his feet.

“We can’t rest—we have to move,” he said.

Remy suppressed another painful cry. She was panting quick breaths, trying not to let the poison take over her body, trying and failing.

“The poison is taking hold too fast,” she panted. “I’m not—“

“Remy,” Hale warned her. “We will get down this mountain.”

She nodded, gasping between words as she said, “When we get to the horses, there’s a red candle in my satchel. Light it and call for Baba Morganna. She will tell you what to do.”

Her eyes fluttered, and Hale grabbed her face hard.

“Open your eyes, Remy,” he commanded. She hollowly did as she was told. “Now move.”

Remy’s eyes remained half closed as she positioned herself to slide down the shale. Hale gripped onto her belt to keep her from sliding too far. Scuttling backwards on her belly, the prince guided her in a controlled fall. She collapsed in a heap on the first stone step, her face smacking hard into the stone, but she could not feel it.

“Open your eyes, Remy.” Hale meant it as another command, but she heard the pleading in his voice.

“Red candle,” she gasped. “Morganna.”

Hale tried to pull her to her feet, but she collapsed. She could no longer feel her limbs, only the pain swirling in her gut. She would not make it. But Morganna needed to know of her passing either way. The High Priestess needed to let go of all the hopes that had rested on Remy’s shoulders. She feared for the chain of events her death would set off, yet she still regretted nothing. She would have jumped into that lake every single time. She was glad she had saved him.

“Hale?” Remy gasped wet breaths into the stone. Hale’s face crumpled as he watched her. “Take those flowers to your mother for me.”

Remy’s eyes guttered closed. She gave in to the poison burning through her body.

“Remy, open your eyes.” Hale’s voice cracked. “Open your eyes, damn you!”

She felt only a faint sting at the slap across her cheek. The poison had taken control of her muscles. She could not open her eyes.

Her body drooped.

Hale bellowed an agonized scream. “I will not bury you!”

She heard him leaping to his feet, faintly felt him yanking her arm up and slinging her over his shoulder. Her diaphragm slammed hard against him as he pounded down the stone steps two at a time.

Even through his labored breathing he said, “Stay with me, Remy.”

Her body jostled around like a limp rag doll.

“You will come with me to bring those flowers to my mother. My mother will love you. You will see the ocean.” His voice broke more with every word.

She smelled the pine trees, the wet moss, and the lushness of the forest again. Had they descended so quickly? Hale ran like the Goddess of Death was chasing him. She heard the whinny of horses as Hale unceremoniously dropped her body to the forest floor, thick with leaves.

She heard as Hale scrambled for the candle and in her mind she was grateful that Baba Morganna would be there for her passing, just as she had been there for her the night her family had died.

Flint striking sounded. Hale was lighting the candle.

“Baba Morganna.” His trembling voice sounded distant, like he was underwater. “I call on you, High Priestess of the red witches.”

“I am here, Your Highness.” A voice as old as the stone mountains echoed through the woods. The voice of the red witch shimmered in Remy’s mind.

Baba Morganna was here.

Remy exhaled her last breath and faded away.

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