Heat bled into Emmery’s hand as she placed it gingerly against his forehead. He didn’t stir at her touch, just lay there slumped against the wall. The absence of his teasing, smart remarks, and even his voice painfully slipped beneath her ribcage. And she stayed trapped in his silence for far too long before she noticed and snapped herself out of it.
After inspecting him for wounds and finding none, it became clear this wasn’t an infection. When Senka had attempted to rip the thorns from his body, his injuries had clearly been the cause, but now, he lay there pale, hot, sweaty, and helpless.
Brennen nosed Destonne’s hair aside, and said, “I couldn’t get it free from his crown.”
Emmery squinted at the three green leaves tucked between a couple vines of his crown. The unmistakable aroma of mint clung to them. The same mint she now realized she often scented on his breath.
“What is this? Did you find it here?” she asked. She carefully yanked a leaf free and smoothed Destonne’s hair back over the crown.
“It’s calledveramint. I don’t know what we would have done if we couldn’t smuggle it through that portal. It helps with the fever.”
A lump formed in her throat as Emmery studied Destonne’s sweat-dampened face. “Does he … is this—” She turned back to Brennen, horror written across her face. “Does this happen often? Or is this from the food?” She silently begged him to tell her opposite what she believed but braced herself for the worst.
“He’s been like this since he lost his magic.”
Her insides twisted into knots, squeezing the air from her lungs. “Is thisthefever?”
Brennen gave a sad, slow nod. “Can you place a leaf on his tongue? I would but I … can’t. No opposable thumbs and all.” He huffed a self-deprecating laugh.
Emmery’s chest tightened, aching for both of them. As she helped ease Destonne onto the ground, he murmured something in his sleep that sounded suspiciously like her name. His arms lifted and reached for her.
Unsure what to do, she took both his hands and cradled them to her chest. His skin was so damn warm, her breath stuttered.
“Destonne?” She stroked her thumb along the side of his palm.
This time, he undoubtedly said her name in a feverish mumble. He limply squeezed her hand and fell into sleep once more.
Heart in her throat, Emmery turned to Brennen. “Has he been like this the whole time?”
“No,” Brennen said. His eyes unfocussed for a moment before he blinked it away. “This is the first time he’s said anything since he fainted.”
Gods, this whole situation worsened by the second. She turned the leaf over in her hand. The rough surface, both thick and durable, likely survived days tucked into Destonne’s crown for that reason. It didn’t look special, at least not to her, but she didn’t know much about the plant life in Karynthia.
“If this helps with the fever, why doesn’t everyone use it?” Emmery asked. She gently placed her thumb between Destonne’s lips and chin. The King’s brows creased, but he didn’t stir again.
“There’s very short supply and it’s only experimental. No one knows the long-term effects. Sometimes he sleeps for long periods, but we don’t know if it’s from the plant or the thorns. Or both.” Brennen nudged his nose under Destonne’s hand and rested his head on the King’s thigh in a familiar gesture. “Theveramintonly curbs the fever. It always comes back.”
Emmery tried to think of anything but their kiss inside that insane vision while she gingerly parted Destonne’s lips and placed the leaf on his tongue. As she settled against the wall beside him, she watched him sleep, wondering how long he’d suffered like this, why he did it silently, and how many times this fever had gotten in the way.
Something dripped on Emmery’s cheek. She swiped at the dampness, not ready to wake from her first good sleep in—
Well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so deeply.
She snuggled into the warmth at her back to ward off the chill of the stone prison and found Destonne tucked against her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and arm draped over her waist. After falling asleep, she must have crawled to him. Though she greedily stole his body heat, his skin burned far too hot. His long, even breaths stirred her hair and she sank into the calm, comforting sensation, if only for a moment, since she’d discarded her pride long after entering this place.
As they waited for the fever to break, Brennen scouted for the next room, but hadn’t returned. She prayed he hadn’t gotten lost in this maze.
Another droplet landed on her forehead, the texture slimy, and breath clouded her face, hot, moist—
Definitely not human.
Emmery’s eyes shot open. Two colossal paws bracketed her head, caging her in, and among the darkness two glowing orange eyes stared down at her.
“Brennen?” she whispered into the eerie stillness. Though relief flared inside her, something didn’t feel right. “Did you find the next room?”
He answered with a low rumbling growl, a purely animalistic sound. A chill snaked up Emmery’s spine as their conversation flooded her mind, drowning her with the knowledge and consequences of him trapped in this form. That only Destonne could bring him back from the depths of his beast.
Brennen’s words,I lose my soul, sprinted through her mind. No recognition lit his eyes, only a churning hint of madness she knew well.