Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(61)

The woman with the gloves stood to accept another large bowl. Walking around Julian, she carefully poured a clear liquid over the leaf covering. At a snap of her fingers, someone handed her a burning stick. My jaw clenched as I watched, my apprehension growing as the burning stick approached Julian’s still body. The chanting women grew louder and more boisterous, until they were all shrieking at the top of their lungs like a bunch of lunatics.

“No . . . ” I moaned, gripping the base of the window and watching wide-eyed as, with just a pass of the tiny brand, Julian’s entire body went up in flames. “No!” I screamed, at the same time that Julian let out a skin-peeling shriek, his back arching severely.

I lost my balance and tumbled. Max, moving with his lighting speed, dove underneath me to cushion my fall before I could hit the hard ground. Lying on top of the massive werebeast with my heart pounding in my ears, I began to cry. I didn’t stop for a long time, weeping openly into Max’s side, my anger with Sofie and Leo for sending us to such a horrific place growing with each minute. This was worse than the mountains, way worse. And now they were burning Julian alive and I would be alone. “Why would they abandon us to these monsters, Max?” I asked through my sobs.

Max responded with a nuzzle to my cheek. Leo was protecting you from Ursula, remember?

I sat up, using the sleeve of my coat to wipe my eyes. “Well, where is Leo? Why didn’t he come too?” Silence met my question. “Max?” My voice wavered with uncertainty.

My brothers took Ursula down. She’s gone.

“And Leo? He’s okay, right?” No answer. “Max!”

I’m sorry, Evangeline. Whatever life he had left in him, he used to send us here. He’s with Maeve now.

Leo . . . dead? The news brought a fresh round of tears. I fell back to lean against the cool wall, a large, painful lump forming in my throat. Everyone was dying around me—because of me. Leo; probably Julian; next it could be Max or Sofie. When would this all end? When the necklace came off, I realized. I looked down at the thing, resting on the outside of my parka, and the sudden urge to rip it off my body overwhelmed me.

Don’t you dare, Max warned as if reading my mind. It stayed my hand. For now.

After staring at motionless heels for what seemed like hours, I saw the guards’ feet shift. A clawed hand curled around the edge of the curtain to pull it back. Squeezing through the narrow opening, four men carried Julian in on a simple stretcher of wood and cloth. They set him down gently, then turned and walked out without a word or glance in our direction. A woman from the circle entered behind them, placing a bowl and a neatly folded stack of clothes in a corner. As she left, her eyes skimmed over Max, but she said nothing.

Now alone, I crawled over on my hands and knees. “Julian?” I whispered. He didn’t answer. Discouraged, I inspected his upper body to see that it appeared unscathed by the fire that had engulfed him not long ago. The women had removed all of the green, leafy substance and covered him from the waist down with a small hemp blanket. A patch of that gray paste, now dry, covered his wound. I peered at his face. It was still ghostly pale, though slightly less pallid than before. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and several drops rolled down his cheek. I didn’t know if it was due to his body fighting infection, or the oppressive heat.

So swept up by the activities of the tribe and Julian, I hadn’t had time to feel the drastic temperature change. Now that I gave it a second’s thought, I realized I was drenched in sweat. No wonder—I was dressed for temperatures at least a hundred degrees colder. If I didn’t get out of these layers soon, I’d likely pass out.

I began peeling off my winter gear, beginning with my hat, until I was in nothing but my gray long johns. Even those were too much. I crawled over to the pile of clothes in the corner. Julian’s things, torn and bloodied, lay on top. Underneath them was a two-piece set of clothing that matched what the women in the tribe wore—whatever that was called. Glancing over at Julian to make sure he was still unconscious, I ordered Max to turn around. He obliged, and I quickly pulled off the long johns and slipped on the outfit. Thank the heavens they aren’t one of those topless tribes, I silently celebrated, looking down at the skirt and the strip of cloth meant to be a shirt.

“Julian?” I whispered again, sliding back over to him. Nothing.

He needs to rest, Max said. As do you.

In answer, I balled up my coat and, placing it under my head, lay down next to Julian’s still body, reaching out to hold his hand. It would be a long time before sleep finally came to me.

I awoke to sunlight streaming in through the tiny window. Beads of sweat ran down my cheek; the hot, muggy air was uncomfortable even with the little that I wore. Max was stretched out on one side of me, unmoving, his eyes closed. I knew he wasn’t sleeping, though. He didn’t sleep. The previous day’s nightmare flashed in my mind then. I bolted upright and spun around.

Julian’s eyes were open a crack.

“Julian!” I exclaimed, throwing myself on him without thinking, earning a groan. “Sorry!” I quickly sat back up to gaze at him. “How are you feeling?”

Julian licked his lips several times. “Water . . . ” he finally croaked, reaching up to paw the air with a weak hand.

There’s water in the bowl in the corner, Max instructed.

I scurried over to grab it and bring it back to Julian’s side. “Can you sit up?” I asked softly, sliding my hand behind his neck to help him get up to his elbows. I held the bowl up to his mouth. He gulped the entire contents down.