Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(120)

Then he sucks in a quick breath, and a strangled gasp pulls from Astrid’s throat. Her body jerks, back arching, eyes wide, mouth wide.

A red mist bursts from her skin where the black touches. Ice forms at her neck, crawling up her jaw with a crackle, the same as it did to Ben. She stills, her body settling back into the moss, breath continuing to hiss from her lungs.

Kieran moves off her, his own chest heaving. I can’t take my eyes off the red dots of Astrid’s blood speckling his face.





FIFTY

FAELAN

“I died?” I ask, the shock from Sage’s words rolling through me.

I woke up in Lailoken’s tree, Sage at my side. I didn’t even get a word out before she was tackling me and hugging me, sputtering out everything that happened after I passed out. Saying that Astrid killed me, let me bleed out—the one thing that would ensure I wouldn’t come back, since all I have left from my father is the power in my blood.

Lailoken comes into view behind Sage. “Oh, it was amazing to watch! So much tension and knots in the stomach.” His brows go up and down. “And then you were totally kaput!” He throws his hand in the air. “Who would’ve thought Mr. Shadow would be so quick to help Mr. Winter? But our tale even surprises me at times.” His smile becomes whimsical.

I’m at a loss. I sit up and give Sage a questioning look.

“Kieran brought you back.” She motions to someone across the room.

I turn my head, and a shadowed Kieran is leaning on the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, foot propped on the tree behind him. My muscles tense, my nerves buzzing again. He brought me back? Not Lailoken?

“You’re welcome,” Kieran says, his voice flat. “And I ate your ex-lover as well.”

My hands flex involuntarily, gripping the moss under me. “Astrid. You fed off—?”

“Killed her, actually,” he finishes for me, a satisfied glint in his eyes. “She was a bit more broccoli than I like, though.”

Sage glares at him. “Seriously, Kieran.”

His gaze falls on her, and his expression softens.

My pulse skips seeing him look at her like that. As if he has a heart to care for her.

“I should go,” he says. “This forest is protected from my sister’s eyes, but she’ll be missing me if I’m unseen for too long. We wouldn’t want her getting suspicious.” He pushes off the wall. “Thank you for the potion, monk.”

“Yes, yes, my boy,” Lailoken says. “I hope it helps settle him.”

“I’m sure it will.” He glances at Sage once more, like he’s hesitant to go. But then he slips out into the woods.

“What a nice young man,” Lailoken says.

Obviously they haven’t properly met.

“So now that Mr. Winter is awake, let’s get started on young Lily here.” He motions for me to sit on a bench at the table.

My legs wobble as I rise, and I have to lean on Sage as she helps me to the seat. I struggle with my emotions, watching her move back to sit beside Lailoken on the dry brown moss where I was lying.

Because I failed. In the end it was Kieran who did the protecting. Of me.

“What’s going to happen?” Sage asks the monk. “Will the spell fix the confusion with the memories?”

“Are you removing the dreams?” I ask, trying to shift my thoughts.

“No, no, there’s no helping the truth of the past,” Lailoken says. He starts plucking pieces of mint from a bush at the edge of the room and tossing them into a bowl. He turns back to Sage. “But this will allow you to accept things inside, to balance the spirits, so the tug-of-war can settle. For now, the two within must come to an understanding. This way you can serve your purpose. You can become your true self.”

Her tense shoulders relax.

“What does that mean?” I ask. There’s still so much we don’t understand. If this is about Sage’s problem with the blood memories, I need to be sure that what the monk is doing is safe. “All you have to do is take out the implant and help her with the dreams.”

Lailoken sighs. “There is much to say about that, much. I will tell you in the best way I can, and maybe you’ll understand better.” He sets down the bowl of mint and pulls the nest from his head, making an attempt to straighten his hair. “It was long ago. And I have much clouding the nut. But I will try.” He taps a finger at his temple. Then he clears his throat and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, they seem clearer, more . . . human. “I was the queen’s watcher, you know,” he says, directing his words to Sage.

She nods, sadness filling her eyes.

“She was so young,” he continues, “only a child when I stumbled upon her. Father Caelus at the monastery had taught us of the other things that roamed the woods, at times wolves, at times gods that masked themselves as wolves. So when I found her, I knew what she was, though I had no real knowledge of how powerful she’d become.” He stares into the small flames dancing in the trough, his eyes going distant. “The goddess came to me that first night.”

He looks up at me, then back to Sage, and it’s like he’s pleading with us to believe him, like he’s letting go of something he’s held tight for too long. “Brighid came to me in the flames—me, a lowly monk. It was a miracle.” He shakes his head like he has trouble believing it himself. “She told me who the child Lily was, told me how vital she was, and asked me to keep her daughter close. And so I did.” He releases a shaky breath. “Until the very end, I stayed with her. And when she was taken from me, when the Cast put her in that place they call the Pit, I thought I would finally die at last. I had been here on this earth so long, surely it was time to bid farewell.” He shakes his head again, looking weary.