Brimstone By Callie Hart - 42

“I FUCKING KNEW it! I knew that witch was up to no good. What did I say?” Lorreth’s hair was wet. It had started to rain as the warriors made their final approach to the estate, and both Lorreth and Danya were soaked down to their skin. Both left puddles of water on the floorboards as they prowled around Cahlish’s formal reception room.

All the furniture was draped in white sheets. Dust motes eddied on the air, captured in the beams of cold light that lanced in through the windows and outlined Fisher where he stood, leaning against a table. He groaned, pressing his fingertips into the space between his brows. “I don’t think anyone really wants to hear ‘I told you so’ right now, brother,” he rumbled.

Lorreth’s nostrils flared, his hands in fists at his sides, knuckles white . . . but he inclined his head. “You’re right. That’s an asshole move. Sorry, I just . . . they’re witches ,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“I know. I know.” Fisher sounded so tired. “We’ll deal with Iseabail later. Right now, I’m far more concerned with what you just told me. Run through what you saw again, would you?”

“Danya’s the one who saw it,” Lorreth answered. “You’re better off hearing it from her.”

The female warrior shivered a little as she stepped forward and began recounting what Lorreth had just told us in greater detail. “Some of the fighters noticed it two days ago. The northwestern slope of Omnamerrin is streaked with black veins. The rot has formed channels, cutting through the snow. It made it down the mountain in a day and reached the camp shortly after. We tried to scorch the ground ahead of time to pen it in, but that didn’t work. When Lorreth showed up yesterday, we tried to come back through the shadow gate to tell you what was happening, but we were too late. It had already closed. We set off immediately to warn everyone here, but we lost another twenty-three warriors to the rot along the way. It’s moving fast now. Way faster than before.”

“And it’ll reach Cahlish in how long?” Fisher asked.

Danya shook her head. “Twelve hours? Sixteen max.”

“Gods a-fucking-live.” Fisher hissed between his teeth.

Lorreth stepped forward, tucking his thumbs into his belt. He seemed reluctant to speak but summoned the courage to do so. “We know about the book, Saeris. Perhaps now would be a good time to see if Lady Edina had any sage advice for us, given how dire the situation is.”

The book. Of course. I’d brought it downstairs with me for this exact reason, but the tension in the room had made me forget about it momentarily. I drew it out from inside my leathers—

“By all means, check it, Osha,” Fisher said. “But make sure that it’s your decision to do so. I have a feeling that my mother’s guidance was designed specifically for you and you alone.” My mate looked to Lorreth. “I know you don’t mean any harm by the suggestion, but she shouldn’t be compelled.”

The warrior ducked his head. “Of course.”

“It’s fine. If there was any time we could use a little advice, I think it’s now.” I held my breath as I opened the book, flipping through the pages until I reached where I had left off.

Consider a sixth. Only the golden-toothed wolf can be trusted.

I turned the page, and the words written there swam as I tried to focus.

Read on after Evenlight.

Damn it! I hadn’t even thought to check the next page after the ball. I hadn’t considered how Edina might have communicated when I was supposed to receive guidance from her in the past. It turned out there were direct cues, and I’d already missed an entry. My palms broke out in a cold sweat as I turned the page.

Do not undo Zareth’s work. You are as you are for a reason. Do not drink from the vial. Do not let your new Lord drink. The time will come, but not yet.

Gods. A shock wave of adrenaline traveled from the crown of my head to my feet. I’d thought about it just hours ago. Being Fae and only Fae was an appealing prospect, but I needed my half-vampiric blood, at least for the time being. Foley needed his, too. To what end, I could only guess, but Edina had foreseen a reason to tell us not to take Iseabail’s cure. I’d nearly missed her warning. This was a lot to take in. Too much, maybe, but I couldn’t afford the time to process. Again, the paper rustled as I quickly turned the page.

Read on at the white cliffs.

I stared at Edina’s handwriting, desperately trying to make the elegant, slanted script say something else. Something that would be useful to us right now .

“What is it?” Lorreth asked. “What does it say?”

Frustrated, I snapped the book closed. “It says that I can only read on at the white cliffs, wherever that is. There’s nothing in there about how to deal with the rot.”

Lorreth’s attention immediately swung back to Fisher. “There we have it then,” he said.

“There we have what ?”

“The white cliffs, Osha,” Kingfisher said. “That tells us what to do all by itself. We need to evacuate Cahlish and rally at Inishtar. We should move quickly. I need to open the biggest fucking shadow gate I’ve ever made, and we need to start shifting the troops. We have to get everyone to safety.”

“That’s the plan?” Danya said, voice stony. “ Retreat? Based on a single line of scribble in a book? I know your mother was a powerful oracle, but this is ridiculous.”

“What else are we supposed to do, Danya? This isn’t an army we can face and fight. Our weapons can’t kill it. Our magic feeds it, for fuck’s sake. Every person it infects becomes our enemy in the space of moments. We need to regroup and figure out how to—”

“We need brimstone .” The room went deathly silent for a moment. Danya’s chest heaved when she continued. “Lorreth told me about what happened with Archer. He said that infected feeder was killed instantly when the brimstone came into contact with it. With enough brimstone, we could stop the rot in its tracks here, before it infects the rest of the fucking realm—”

“All right.” Fisher shoved away from the covered table and stormed across the room. He reached for a dagger from the scabbard at his waist and slammed it against Danya’s chest. “Go on, then. Go down into the pyre and start killing our friends. Or wait. No.” He took the knife back. “I’ll do it, shall I? I’ll go down there, and I’ll drain the creatures who swore to serve and protect my fam—”

“You’re being dramatic—”

They shouted over one another, their words lost to their anger. Lorreth cut them both off. “STOP YELLING, BOTH OF YOU!”

The pair fell silent . . . but only for a second. “You’ve forgotten how to lead,” Danya accused. “If you find yourself unequal to the task, then step aside. Sometimes sacrifices need to be made.”

The laughter that bubbled out of my mate was scathing and short-lived. “I know,” he said slowly, “that anyone willing to forfeit the lives of their people and tally their loss as collateral damage is no leader. Certainly not the kind of leader that I will ever be—”

“Then maybe you’re just not cut for the role,” Danya snapped.

Helpless: That’s how it felt, watching them fight like this. But if Danya spoke to Fisher one more time like that, I was going to fucking spear her to the fucking wall.

Lorreth held up his hands in a placating gesture, again attempting to be the voice of reason. “You’re both right. We should absolutely evacuate Cahlish. And yes, the brimstone is our best chance of destroying this infection. But we don’t need to cull the sprites to gather enough brimstone to accomplish that, do we? There is another way.”

Fisher was already shaking his head. I’d never seen him look more vehement. “No. Absolutely not.”

There was a note of hysteria in Danya’s laughter. “You’re out of your fucking mind , bard.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What’s the other way?”

“No,” Fisher repeated. “Lorreth’s wrong. There is no other way.” His tone brooked no argument.

“So that’s that, then? You want to leave the place you fought so hard to get back to, with no plan and no idea of how we’re going to get through any of this?” Danya demanded.

“We will figure it out.” Fisher’s voice was firm, but Danya did not look impressed. Even Lorreth looked a little uncertain.

“Come on. We’re not doing anyone any good standing here fighting among ourselves,” the warrior said.

“All mad as dogs,” Danya hissed under her breath as she stalked out of the room.

Fisher pointed the business end of his blade at her as she went. “So help me, Danya, I will kill you my fucking self if you touch a single one of those sprites.”

“Fisher—”

He faced me quickly, his pallor ghostly and haunted. He placed a kiss against my forehead and then pulled away. “I know what you’re going to ask. I know you want to understand. And I will explain,” he said. “I promise I will. Just . . . right now, I need a moment. And your brother needs you, Osha.” He nodded his head toward the window. The rain sheeted against the glass, but I could still make out the single figure, standing out there alone on the snowy lawn. How long had he been out there, standing in the downpour? How had I not noticed him? “Go to him,” Fisher said. “I’ll come find you soon, I swear it.”

He wasn’t wearing any shoes.

His hair was soaked and flat against his scalp, his curls driven straight by the downpour. Hayden stared up at the sky, a deep frown carving into his forehead. He didn’t look at me when I arrived beside him, but he knew I was there. I held the jacket over my head, mostly to protect myself from the deluge, but also to ward off the bleak sunlight eking through the thick cloud cover overhead.

“What’s going on, Hay?” Our mother had called him that. After her death, I’d refused to use the name for fear of invoking her memory. It destroyed me when that happened, and I couldn’t keep him afloat if we were both drowning. Weak of me, that. I should have let him keep the name she’d called him. Should have let him keep that piece of her.

“I—I don’t know who I’m supposed to be here, Saeris. Everything’s just so . . . different ,” he said.

“I know. It is different. There’s a lot to get used to. But different doesn’t have to be bad , does it?”

He blinked, the rain running into his eyes. He looked bewildered. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean . . . this?” He wiped the rain from his face, shaking his head. Droplets of water ran over his palm, dripping down into the snow. “I had no idea a place like this could exist.” He swallowed. Looked at me at last. “Who am I supposed to be here, Saeris?”

“Who were you in Zilvaren?” I countered.

“I don’t know. I just . . . I always thought you would tell me what I needed to do. Who I needed to be. You were always there, so strong. You always had a plan.”

Oh, gods. I wanted to laugh at that. If only he knew. Sadly, I took his hand in mine and squeezed it. “I never had a plan, Hay. And you were always going to have to figure out who you wanted to be on your own. That was never my decision to make. I know this is so overwhelming. I know it probably feels like I’m giving you a worse hand than the one you were dealt in Zilvaren. With the rot and the feeders, and everything else going on here, I get it. Yvelia might not seem like such a safe place to be. I will understand if you want to go back.”

Hayden’s jaw tightened, the muscles in his throat working as he thought about that. But he shook his head. “No. No matter what, you’re the only family I have. If you’re staying, then so am I. I’m sorry I doubted you. And I’m sorry I never appreciated everything you did for me back in the Third. I am going to figure this out. I’m gonna do better. I want to be useful here, Saeris. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“There’ll be time for all of that. Don’t worry about it now. We should get you inside. You’re going to catch your death out here in the rain, Hayden. It’s freezing.”

My brother sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand as he nodded, turning back toward the house. I hadn’t been able to tell because of the rain, but he was crying.

We’d almost reached the warmth of the house when the same strangeness that had pulled me into Tal’s burning bedroom cinched tight in my stomach again. I wanted to go in with him, but something was stopping me. Like a hand clenched around my insides, an overwhelming force pulled me back out into the rain.

“You go on ahead. I’ll be right behind you,” I said to Hayden.

“Are you all right? You look worried.”

“I’m fine, I promise. I—I’m just going to grab something from the forge. It’s quicker to cut through the courtyard this way.”

Hayden didn’t have a clue where the forge was. Nor did he have a true understanding of Cahlish’s layout. If he did, he would have known for a fact I was lying. As it was, he only suspected . . . so he gave me a nod and went inside.

It was good that he was gone.

It was only moments later that I rounded the corner and discovered the cause of the unpleasant tugging in my gut . . . and Hayden probably would have passed out if he’d come face-to-face with the Hazrax.

“You’ll forgive the rain,” it said. “But I’m not overly fond of the cold. Rain is at least a little warmer than snow.”

“Why are you here?”

The strange creature’s head rocked to one side, its lips peeling back to reveal rows of needlelike teeth—a show of displeasure if ever I saw one. “You’re a mannerless thing, aren’t you? Quite feral. I believe the last time we spoke, we observed the ritual of small talk, did we not?”

“I don’t have time for small talk. There are fifteen thousand warriors waiting on the other side of the estate. The rot infecting this land is almost on top of us. There are sick people here. My friends need to be moved to safety, and you have just literally dragged me away from ten things that I urgently need to attend to, so forgive me if I’m not inclined to observe social etiquette.”

The rain drove down harder, pelting the side of the house and drumming loud as thunder on top of the tin roof we stood under. The Hazrax hissed, its slitted nostrils flaring. “You’d be wise to reconsider.”

“Why are you here?”

“I admit, I wasn’t expecting the display that took place at Ammontraíeth yesterday. That was quite the scene.” It spoke in an accusatory tone.

“It had nothing to do with me,” I rasped.

“I am aware of that ,” the Hazrax replied. “I know of the deal with the witch now. A risky play on the Balquhidder clan’s part, employing such dark and fetid magic for an opportunity to wipe out the vampires. Perhaps the play will work out in their favor. Perhaps not. Time will tell. But I am forced to admit their little gambit has rather ruined things for me.”

The Hazrax made a bizarre clicking sound—no human or Fae could ever have replicated it—and slowly shook its hairless head. “You know, you’re only the third person I have broken my silence for in over a millennium? I have to say, you’re not a very stimulating conversation partner.”

I glowered at it, refusing to rise to the bait.

The creature’s eyes shuttered again, narrowing slightly in what I assumed was annoyance. “As you wish. I have come to provide aid to you, child queen.”

“What aid ?”

The Hazrax made a rattling, wheezing sound. Was it laughing ? “A two-part gift,” it said. “I gave you the first part last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

Its eyes, unnervingly black and bottomless, drifted down my body and settled on my hand.

Oh, for fuck’s sake . “This?” I held up my hand, showing my runes. “ This was from you?”

“Indeed. You will have to work for most of your runes, but some of them may come as gifts. And this one was gifted just in the nick of time, wouldn’t you agree?”

“What does it do? What does it mean? I can’t find a translation for it anywhere.”

“And you won’t. It is blasphemy to record such things on paper, King Killer. The rune is my name. It does not grant you magic, the same way other runes do. The ability my rune grants you is complicated. It allows you to . . . undo . Or maybe . . .” It pulled a strange face that I could not decipher. “Break?” it offered.

I had ice water for blood. I was going to throw up. “And if I don’t want this rune? If I don’t want your name inked into my skin? What then?”

The Hazrax plucked at its robes then slid its absurdly long hands into sleeves. “You would return a gift? And such a powerful one, too? You’ll be grateful for it soon enough, believe me. You should already be grateful for it. It saved your friend’s life last night.”

What did it want, a fucking thank-you card? “I don’t want to owe you anything,” I told it.

“The ability was freely given,” the Hazrax said. “No debt has been incurred. It is a silent rune, already sealed to your soul. It will act as a grounding rod for the runes you already have, and the ones that are yet to come, too. For a while, anyway. It will buy you some time while you work on sealing that brimstone mark.”

“Why? Why would you give it?” If the rune was everything the creature claimed it to be, then it was a valuable boon indeed. But I’d learned the hard way that nothing was free in Yvelia. There was always a price, and usually a hefty one at that. It made no sense that this thing, whatever it was, would just give me access to powerful magic. It made no sense that it could gift it to me in the first place.

“Think of it as an apology,” it said. “For what is to come. I have seen through the eyes of your oracle, and your future is not an easy one. There are those who would consider me partially to blame for that.”

“What have you seen? For the love of the gods, what else is coming?” The Hazrax seemed to blur for a second, its outline smudging black and gray against the overcast world behind it. I blinked, and the creature was solid again.

“No more questions,” it said. “I must give you the second part of my gift and then depart.”

The Hazrax drifted forward, extending its hand to me. Gold glinted in its waxy palm. When it flipped its hand over, a ring dropped at my feet: the ring of office that marked it as a Lord of Midnight. A large polished ruby flashed at the ring’s center, winking in the fading light.

“Give it to the apostate with the golden smile,” the Hazrax ordered. “He will need it.”

I stared at the ring first, then up at the ungodly-looking thing that loomed over me, my mind racing too fast for a proper thought to take shape. “People call you the Hazrax. But that’s not the name inked into my skin now, is it?”

“Clever child. It is not.”

“You’re never going to tell me what you are, are you?”

The Hazrax smiled its needle smile. “Why would I when you’re so close to piecing it all together, King Killer? You’ve almost figured it out.”