Rowan had suggested that they kidnap Essar and hold her as leverage against her sister, a commander in Maeve's army. Gavriel calmly informed him that he could also simply kill Rowan and free Aelin himself. That was an option too.

"I wasn't saying we would hurt her," Rowan snarled at the other male. Gavriel blinked and Rowan felt even worse than he had already. Was it cowardly to suggest kidnapping the tiny female who'd sworn a vow of pacifism and never given them a single reason to dislike her? Perhaps. But it might be their only chance at convincing her sister to help them.

"I don't think Dressenda will cooperate better if we are holding her sister hostage," Gavriel said cooly, narrowing his eyes. "I think it will make her hate us, give us bad information and quite possibly murder at least one of us in cold blood while rescuing her sister."

That was also a fair point. It would not be the first time that Dresenda was suspected of murder on her little sister's behalf.

"Well, what are we going to do then?" Rowan snarled, anxiety setting his teeth on edge.

"Perhaps ask nicely?" Gavriel's eyes flashed and his tone was sharp.

"And if she refuses to help us?"

"Are we talking about the same female here?" Gavriel snapped. "Essar? As in the daughter of Lord Freei? As in Lorcan's former lover? The bleeding heart pacifist who hates Maeve and would happily foil her plans to torture a powerful demi-fae who won't bend to her every whim?"

"It's not Essar I'm worried about," Rowan growled. "It's Dresenda."

"Dresenda is a sensible soldier with no love for our queen and an honor bound code of ethics," Gavriel said. "She will at least hear us out. Unless, of course, we kidnap her little sister like common criminals. Then she may not feel so inclined to listen."

"Fine!" Rowan hated that Gavriel was right. Mostly because he hated ever suggesting kidnapping the female in the first place. The fact that he obviously didn't mean for them to hurt her didn't seem to make a difference to Gavriel.

They waited in trees along the path for Essar to circle back. She always looped her evening walks. As the female approached, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, Gavriel motioned for Rowan to stop masking their scents so she could sense them. Rowan rolled his eyes and obliged the Lion.

Essar's chin perked up as she caught their scent and she slowed considerably, glancing warily around her. Gavriel and Rowan dropped down on either side of her and she clapped a hand over her mouth, dropping her flowers and clutching her chest.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she hissed, swiping at the tumble of curls that fell over her forehead. Kidnapping her would have been too easy. She was much smaller than Aelin and didn't have any of her training. He was a terrible person for suggesting it. He didn't need to glance at Gavriel's expression in his peripheral vision to know that.

"You shouldn't be walking alone in the woods," Rowan frowned.

Essar rolled her eyes and bent down to pick up her flowers. "Maybe you shouldn't be hiding in trees waiting to scare a female out of her wits. What do you want?"

Her nostrils flared and she frowned, glancing around. "Is Lorcan with you?"

"No," Gavriel said through grit teeth. Essar's eyes grew wide and she glanced between them with growing concern.

"Where is he? Is he alright?"

"He was injured," Rowan explained. "He's not with us."

"How badly? Is he near? I know a healer who Maeve won't even think to question-" she stopped talking as she took in Gavriel's expression. The realization that Gavriel himself was a trained healer seemed to sink in.

"Is he…?" her hazel eyes were so wide. So concerned. Rowan could never understand why Lorcan and she had worked so well for so many years. They were each other's antitheses.

"He asked to be left behind," Gavriel finally spoke. "Maeve has Aelin of the Wildfire and we don't know how long she has. Lorcan asked us to leave him behind."

Essar's color greyed.

"Maeve has your Aelin?" she asked Rowan. If it had been under any other circumstances Rowan would have reveled in the fact that Essar could see that Aelin was his and he was Aelin's. Now, however, it only aggravated the wound of losing her.

"Yes," he replied, voice hoarse.

"There's a camp of soldiers," she said quietly. "Gathering on the west side of the city. The guard is unusually heavy… I have some acquaintances in the camp who could offer insight. They're tight lipped, don't worry." Essar bit her lip and snapped her fingers, a nervous tick. She seemed to have an idea and nodded once, gaze flicking up to Rowan's. "I'll be back in two hours with more information and I'll bring Dresenda. She'll have a better idea if the camp is holding any… prisoners."

Rowan nodded gratefully. And to think he suggested kidnapping her to use as leverage. He really hated himself sometimes.

"Gavriel," Essar asked quietly. "Will you be going back?" To Lorcan, Rowan noted.

"If I can," Gavriel nodded solemnly. Essar's warm eyes analyzed the Lion's expression and read his eyes. She choked on something halfway between a laugh and a sigh. Or a sob.

"I'm seeing a musician now," she told Gavriel, as though she was confiding in a friend. Perhaps she confided in Gavriel too. Everyone did, it seemed. "You can't get yourself killed for playing cello, can you?"

"I wouldn't think so," Gavriel's voice was soft.

"That's good," she smiled shakily. A dimple pressing into either cheek. "He's the sweetest."

In a moment the female had composed herself and was off to find them the help they would need. Rowan watched her go with a strange pairing of melancholy and hope.

.

.

Lorcan was dreaming of the girl who smelled like the sea again. He could tell he was burning with fever and for a moment it took him considerable effort to remind himself he was hallucinating again. This wasn't real.

"Lorcan?"

He managed to turn his head to look at her. No, he realized, she had turned his head for him. He traced the girl's face with fever bright eyes, trying to remember her. She had to have been someone to him. He kept dreaming of her. There was no reason to continually dream of someone he did not know.

"We need help," the girl was telling him. "I don't know what else to do… maybe if you'd been stronger when-" she stopped and Lorcan tasted the salty scent of tears. "But anyways, there's no point in going down that road. What I'm trying to say is, is…" her voice trailed off again and a pair of onyx eyes traced his own.

"I don't have enough food to keep your strength up and nothing has been slowing this plague with any of my other patients."

Lorcan found himself squeezing her hand as tightly as he could. His fingers barely twitched. This girl he loved choked on a sob and gripped his hand with a greater strength.

It's alright, he kept thinking; kept trying to say. It's alright. Let me go. It's not so bad this way, is it? He struggled to keep the fear out of his eyes.

"I've decided to go ask Madame Hulgen for help."

Lorcan's heart rate thundered back with a sudden, desperate strength and he struggled to sit up. With a parched throat he managed to croak, "No."

"She has healing powers, Lorcan," the girl easily pushed him back down. "Magic. And so far magic is the only thing that can beat this sickness. If I can get her to help, you'll live."

Lorcan didn't remember who this Madame Hulgen was despite his desperate scrambling in the back of his memory. Who was she? Why this fear? Who was this girl with a scent like the sea? Why did he love her so much he was terrified for her?

"Listen," the girl moved from her rickety, three-legged stool to sit on his bed next to him. A thin hand rested above his thundering heart and with her other near-skeletal hand she combed through his hair.

"I know you're going to settle," the girl explained. He felt himself shaking his head. He didn't want to hear this. "And wouldn't it be so much of a waste, when you could have so much more life to live, to die now? At sixteen? It… it's not fair."

"Vera…" he croaked, a trembling hand coming up to grip at her arm weakly. Vera, that was her name. He didn't know who she was yet, but he knew her scent and knew her name.

"I'll find a way to pay the Madame," she said definitely. Lorcan was shaking his head, hot tears stinging down from the corner of his eyes, cooling by the time they hit his ears; his gods-damned demi-fae ears. If there was no chance of him settling she wouldn't do this. "And we'll get you better."

No, no I'm not worth it. Nothing is worth that. No, Vera, please don't. Just don't.

"You are my only one Lorcan," Vera was telling him, dark eyes bright with tears. "You are my only person in the world and I'll be damned if I let the world take you from me so early."

No, please don't do this, Vera. Please don't do this. This isn't like you.

"You've taken care of us this far, working in the fields, winning fights, working yourself half to death…" she laughed and dabbed feverish sweat from his brow with her sleeve. "Well, closer than half."

Her wry smile faltered and she tucked a strand of ebony hair behind her pointed ear.

Something inside Lorcan twisted so hard it broke. He knew why she looked so familiar now. He knew why her dark glare and her angular brown face were so familiar. He knew why her low, airy voice and her saltwater-scent haunted him so. He'd seen those eyes in the mirror his whole life. Their ears were the same, their hands were so similar, broad and bony. The way she squinted her eyes when she thought.

She was his. His sister. His own. His only person in the world.

Vera, Vera, Vera. The desperate search multiplied through his memories. Where are you? Why can't I remember? Where are you?

He was met with the all-too-familiar sense of emptiness, no one was there. Nothing. A gaping abyss of empty nothingness.

Vera, Vera, Vera. Why can't I remember you?

.

.

"Can you use his memories to track him?" Asterin called over the sound of wind on Wyvern wings.

Elide shook her head, eyes watering from the onslaught of dry air. "I'm sure there's a way, but I don't know how," She shouted back. "I don't know enough about tracking. I think he knows where he is, but I can't tell what track he was following."

"But he is in a cave?" Asterin shot back over her shoulder.

"Yes!"

"Did your red-head give you any riverways or bodies of water on that map?" Asterin called back.

"Yes!" Elide pulled the map out and gripped it tightly, terrified it would fly right out of her hands. She spread it across Asterin's back. "We're on the south side of the mountain range still?" she clarified.

"If we were on the North side we'd have a better shot at that death wish of yours!" the witch teased over the waves of wind.

"Haha," Elide muttered sarcastically, the wind masking her tone from even Asterin's keen hearing. "We should be close to a river that runs all the way down to Mistward!" Elide said louder, hope trilling down her spine.

"That sounds like a pretty good bet!" Asterin nodded, her braid striking Elide across the face. Elide cradled her cheek with a glare but didn't whine. She was too excited. A river to Mistward, that must have been the river Lorcan was following. It had to be.

"Okay, I'm banking north-east," Asterin nudged Nerene into a steep redirection and Elide waited to put the map away until they levelled out.

They flew a few more hours along the river, Asterin's keen eyes looking for rock fixtures that seemed promising. They'd only stopped at two.

"There," Asterin guided Nerene to fly a bit lower. Elide saw several silver flashes of fur spark away from the river and dart back into the forest. "There's only one reason for wolves to be out in broad daylight," Asterin called over her shoulder, warning lacing her tone. "They were probably cornering something that holed itself up and were waiting it out."

Waiting him out. Elide felt that ghost-pain rake down her bones.

"I'm going to land!" Asterin called, one hand gripping Elide's wrist where she was clinging to the witch's waist. "Chances are the wolves aren't gone, so stick close to me."

Elide nodded dark eyes scanning the river line frantically for blood or, worse, a half devoured body.

No, he'd been alive as of last night. They'd find him. Alive. Elide clenched her jaw tightly.

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