This was the cave. Elide could tell before they'd even landed. As soon as Nerene's talons brushed the dirt, before she'd crouched down to allow them easy descent, Elide was sliding from the Wyvern's back. She hit the ground and rolled to protect her ankle before scrambling upright and making for the cave.
"Elide!" Asterin was bellowing, flying off the wyvern behind her. "Stop! We don't know-"
But Elide knew everything she needed to.
Coughing and batting through the smoke of the campfire which guarded the entrance of the cave, she skittered over hot embers and ducked into the darkness. It took her eyes several seconds to adjust. There wasn't much in the cave, no pack or freshly skinned kill, only a pile of firewood and a demi-fae body. That's all there was.
"Lorcan."
The body didn't so much as twitch. Elide was frozen with a sudden terror. She'd stood her ground against the Crochan-Blackbeak heir, flown over the ocean and two mountain ranges, only to freeze when she actually found him. Was he already dead?
Gods, don't be dead, she found herself pleading as she tried to force herself toward him. What if he was already dead? Would she know as soon as she touched him? He was so still. Would he feel dead? She didn't want to know what he felt like when he was dead.
Her stomach rolled rebelliously but she refused to be sick.
"Elide!" Asterin's gold braid swung too close to the fire and the witch snatched it up quickly as she eased around the embers. Her eyes fell on the too-still figure curled up in the back of the cave.
Something about Asterin's expression made Elide snap out of her stupor and she eased over to the demi-fae's side, gently touching his shoulder, praying he wasn't dead.
"Lorcan?" She could barely whisper.
"Gods, he smells awful," Asterin gagged.
Lorcan's arm twitched under her touch and he let out a small gasp. Relief flooded her veins and she put all her strength into trying to roll him over to face her. He smashed his eyes shut tighter as though she'd hurt him, but didn't make a sound.
"Lorcan, can you hear me?" Elide's eyes assessed him, trying to decide how she could help him. He'd lost a dramatic amount of weight. His own shirt hung off him like it was several sizes too big and the planes of his face were hollowed out around the edges of sharpened cheekbones and sunken eyes. Something dark stained the corner of his mouth and trailed down his chin. Blood probably. How could he have changed so drastically in only a matter of weeks?
Tears burning her eyes, she brought a trembling hand up to the side of his face tentatively. His skin was hot to the touch. Slowly, onyx eyes flickered open, fever-bright and lacking their usual sharpness. Dark brows drew together into his characteristic scowl and Elide choked on a relieved laugh.
"Elide?" His voice was rough and dry from lack of use.
"Yeah," she tried to smile. "I'm here."
His frown deepened and he blinked a few times as though he was trying to clear his eyes.
"Why?" The single word question was like a blow to the chest.
I hope you spend the rest of your miserable, immortal life suffering.
It was a fair question.
"Because you need me." She wasn't sure if it was true or if she just wanted it to be.
"How did you…?" He didn't finish the question, exhaustion was weighted behind every word.
"I flew by wyvern," Elide shifted slightly so he could see Asterin standing behind her. She wasn't sure what incited the low snarl Lorcan shot at the witch, fangs bared and eyes hot, but she was willing to brush it off considering he had been out in the wilderness barely managing to fend off predators for the past few days. Witches were at the top of any food chain and everyone knew it.
"Nice to see you again, too," Asterin drawled, posture relaxed but eyes hard. Her nostrils flared and she frowned. "You smell like a rutting valg. Have you been-"
Lorcan shook his head weakly.
"No, I'm still-" he frowned as though he wasn't sure if his own words made sense, "-me. I think she tethered me to another creature… it's feeding off my magic, but it's not… in my head… I don't think…" Speaking was an exhausting feat for him when he was in the prime of health, Elide noted, now it must be an agony.
Unfortunately his words made sense. If a valg was going to possess a body, it would want it in perfect health. It made sense that this was only an infection and not a possession. Lorcan was too weak to be of any use as a host.
"He's crazy iron deficient," Asterin muttered to her, smelling the air again. "Probably lost a lot of blood. He needs meat." With that the witch stepped over the embers again and stalked off, presumably to hunt.
"I'm going to get water and linens," Elide told Lorcan. "Do you need anything? I'll only be gone a minute."
Lorcan barely shook his head.
"I'll be right back," she promised, skittering over the fire.
"Elide," Lorcan called and she leaned back in to find him half sitting up, looking disheveled and confused.
"Careful," he rasped. "There are wolves."
Elide's throat was tight. Even after everything she'd said to him back on the beach, after his horrible betrayal, he was still concerned about her safety. He could barely move and he was trying to sit up to warn her of a threat.
"I'll be careful," she promised. "And Asterin is out here. I'm not going far."
When he eased back down onto his side, she hobbled over to Nerene blinking saltwater out of her eyes and clenching her teeth. She was still furious, but her anger at Lorcan was nothing in comparison to her fear of losing him. She'd been foolish to think she could just move on.
.
.
Gavriel kept watch as the others slept. Fenrys was curled up at Aelin's back, the two of them swallowed by a ring of flame. Aelin may recover, but he doubted Fenrys would. Aelin was probably the only thing that kept the White Wolf alive at the moment. He lived only because she had commanded him to do so. The Lion swallowed. He did not know how deep the young male's madness would go, to lose a carranam was often a fatal blow.
He pulled at his own carranam's bond gently. Nothing. Lorcan hadn't been responding all day.
Lorcan. Can you hear me? Gavriel pulled harder, sending a spike of healing magic across the link between them and wincing as pain lanced down his center. They were too far apart to exchange more than a few sparks.
Aelin shifted awake and sat up slowly, eyeing her mate with an unnerving emptiness.
She will recover, Gavriel reminded himself. She will be whole. She needs time.
But time is exactly what Gavriel had none of. He could feel the desperation clawing up his spine and cracking through his skull.
You're carranam is dying, his instincts screeched. Your carranam is dying and you are wasting time.
But he was not wasting time. He was doing what he promised Lorcan he would.
Steam seethed off the surface of the freezing water as Aelin slipped into the cavern spring. Rowan was awake and trailing silently along the edge, keeping an eye on her. Gavriel glanced back at Fenrys just as the wolf's head snapped up, suddenly aware of being alone. With a grunt Gavriel hauled himself to his feet and went over to sit beside the wolf while Aelin tried to drown out the sounds she carried inside her own mind.
Fenrys blinked at him owlishly and Gavriel sighed, offering what comfort he could through his gaze. He could not find it within himself to smile. Not with the incessant cry for his fading caranam skittering across his nerves and his heart aching for Fenrys's loss and his mind flickering back and forth between images of Rowan skinning Cairn alive and images of being tortured himself over the centuries.
Your caranam is dying. Connal is dead. Cairn is still screaming. Your Carranam is dying. Your Caranam is dying.
Fenrys cocked his head to the side slightly, a tiny expression compared to his usual dramatics.
Gavriel patted the ground next to him silently, asking a wordless question himself. Slowly the Wolf stretched and crept over to his side, turning in a half circle before practically collapsing next to him, leaning against Gavriel's leg. The Lion rested a hand on Fenrys's back and felt the male give a heavy sigh.
They were going to make it.
Your Carranam is dying.
They had to make it.
Suddenly Rowan tensed and Aelin started swimming to shore. Gavriel was immediately alert and Fenrys, sensing the Lion's tension, was too. Gavriel stood, drawing his weapon and stepping forward, motioning for Fenrys to stay behind him as he made for Rowan and Aelin.
Something beneath the water was dragging two boats to shore.
"The only way to the sea is through these caves," Aelin murmured, eyes vacant and absent. Gavriel was suspicious but didn't voice his thoughts. He could almost hear what Lorcan would say in his head.
'Travel underground, in a rickety boat that's who-knows how old, in eel-infested, freezing waters, with creatures that are known for luring their prey into the forest with gifts and affection and flowers before slitting their throats as they sleep? No. Hell no.
"Aelin," Gavriel said softly. "Are you sure?" Rowan snarled at the Lion but he had to continue. "The little folk are not known for giving gifts without expecting a return."
As if in answer to his wonder, the little folk dragged a crown to the Queen's feet. Mab's crown. Suddenly Gavriel understood. She was the heir of Mab's bloodline too. The little folk knew their Queen. Yet his awe was dampened by the frantic fraying of his carranam bond.
"Let's go," Rowan spoke for Aelin and Fenrys followed the two of them into the first boat. "Gavriel?"
Gavriel still stood on shore, hesitating.
"I…" he bowed his head in Aelin's direction. "You go. I can not go to the sea yet. I am sorry."
Fenrys shot him a snarl and Aelin tilted her head to the side slightly. Rowan met his gaze knowingly.
"Is he still alive?" Rowan asked quietly.
Your Carranam is dying.
Gavriel clenched his jaw. "Barely."
Your Caranam is dying.
"Did he make it to Mistward?" Rowan asked again and Gavriel snarled at him, knowing where the prince's line of questioning was leading.
"No."
Your Carranam is dying.
"If you leave our company, and manage to evade the search parties," Rowan's voice was soft. "Will he still be alive when you reach him?"
Gavriel was surprised to find his eyes burning. Aelin was watching him carefully. Fenrys's gaze flickered back and forth between the other two males.
"No," he admitted.
Rowan was silent, his eyes telling Gavriel what he thought he should do, but his mouth unable to produce the words.
"Did who make it to Mistward?" Aelin asked in her eerie calm. Gavriel wasn't sure how Aelin would react to the name of the one who betrayed her in the first place, but he was honest with her. She'd had enough lies from Maeve, no doubt, to last her a lifetime.
"Lorcan."
Aelin's gaze slowly flickered up to her mate.
"He was fatally wounded back on the beach," Rowan explained quietly. Fenrys's ears pricked forward but Aelin's expression remained blank. "He made it halfway to Doranelle before…" Rowan glanced away from Aelin's steady gaze. "Before we had to leave him behind."
Silence echoed through the cave. Fenrys blinked. Aelin slowly turned her head to Gavriel, still waiting on the shore. He shook his head, begging his son's cousin to understand with his eyes.
"I must find him. Even if I do not find him… alive." He swallowed again.
"He's your carranam," Aelin said quietly, head still tilted to the side as though listening to a voice only she heard. She nodded once and said, "The Little Folk know where he is. He is alive. They will take you by a different river that splits off downstream. It leads to Mistward."
Hope flickered in Gavriel's chest frantically. If the river ran straight to Mistward he might reach Lorcan, wherever he was in proximity to the demi-fae fortress, in time to heal him again. He might still be alive when Gavriel reached him.
You're playing a losing game, a voice nagged in the back of his head. You won't ever heal him completely.
But he had to play the game. There was nothing to do but play the game.
He nodded to Aelin, sheathing his sword and clambering into the boat behind them. An unseen force tugged them back into the frozen cavern and they set out into the looming darkness.
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So yay! Aelin is finally free and reunited with her mate, Fenrys is still alive and bloodsworn to Aelin, Gavriel is still a mother hen, and Elide nad Lorcan had FINALLY been reunited! honestly this has to be the slowest burn I've ever written. They don't even see eachother until Chapter 26!
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Please review, as usual. :)
-D.