Page 5 of Eldritch
Deep breaths calmed the relentless pounding of my heart, and his grip loosened.
“Allow me.”
I gave a reluctant nod, but when he stepped in front of me, I gripped his arm. “Zevander…please…if she’s infected—” The words caught in my throat.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, clearly sensing my distress.
Another nod, and I let go of his arm, lowering to my knees as he climbed down into the small space beneath the floorboards. The few shelves and jars of food I could see stacked about told me it must’ve been used as a pantry. Despite the height of the floor sitting just below the height of his shoulders, the space seemed tall enough for me to walk upright in there.
A radiant cold stiffened my muscles, and I trembled at the thought of Aleysia being trapped there. Far too cold for anyone to survive for long.
If there was truly a god, I prayed that he wouldn’t be so cruel as to lead me to my sister’s corpse.
With slow and careful movements, Zevander lifted my sister into his arms, and the listless way she lay draped over his massive limbs, so small and frail next to his hulking form, had my heart pounding. The anticipation shook through me, as I rubbed my hands together.
Please be alive. Please, let her be alive.
He laid her gently onto the floorboards, and with a held breath, I scrambled closer. Hands trembling, I hesitated to touch her. For weeks, I’d hoped I’d see her again, yet suddenly, the fear of her demise crashed over me, and tears welled in my eyes as I visually inhaled her frail form.
She didn’t appear to be infected. No strange deformities of her face, nor spider legs protruding from any part of her. Shelooked like the sleeping Aleysia I’d always known. Thinner and paler, yes, but human, at least.
Lurching closer, I rested my ear to her chest. The sound of her slow and steady heartbeat roused more tears, but to be sure, I reached to press my fingers to the vein in her neck, pausing upon catching sight of my blackened fingertips—the same fingers that had taken Elowen’s life. “I… Could you please…” I scarcely managed to speak my intentions, the way my voice choked with emotion, and Zevander pressed his fingers to her throat.
“She has a pulse.”
I exhaled a shaky breath of relief and shook my head. “I don’t believe she’s infected. She can’t be. The carvings on the door kept them out. Surely, they’d have the same effect on her.”
“So it would seem. Unless she managed to find another way in.”
The cold of her skin seeped into the flat of my hand as I turned her toward me, careful not to touch her with my fingers, and the sight of her pale face tugged at my heart. “Aleysia. Aleysia, wake up. Please, you must wake up.” A gentle kiss against her forehead failed to elicit so much as a twitch from her. “Please wake, Sister.” Cool puffs of breath brushed over my face, and I ran my palm over her arms, startled by the unnatural chill that met my skin. “She’s too cold. We have to get her warm right away.”
Zevander knelt beside me and held up his palm, the glyph on his hand faintly glowing. “Gods be damned.” He clenched his fist and opened it again, holding it over her. Grumbling to himself, he rubbed his hands together.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t seem to summon the warmth of the flame.”
“At all?”
“I’d rather not test whether, or not, the flame itself can be summoned.” Again, he flexed his fist and held out his palm, shaking his head.
Curious as I was to know why he struggled to call forth his power, my focus remained on Aleysia. “We need to get her warm some other way.”
Carefully sliding his hands beneath her body, Zevander lifted her flaccid form and carried her to The Crone Witch’s bed at the opposite side of the cabin. As soon as he’d laid her down on the thinning mattress, I gathered up the blankets, piling them on top of her, but when I slid onto the bed beside her, Zevander grabbed my arm.
“That isn’t wise.”
Frowning, I twisted out of his grasp. “Wise, or not, mortals die when our bodies get too cold.”
As if realizing he’d already lost the argument before it’d even begun, he let out a low growl. “She may still be dangerous,” he said. “Know that, if she so much as attempts to harm you, I won’t hesitate?—”
“If she attempts to harm me, then I will deal with her myself,” I snipped, more curtly than intended. “Ihavetaken life with my own hands, too.”
Another grumbling sound of disapproval.
“I understand your concern, I’m not a fool,” I said in a calmer voice. “But she’s my sister, Zevander. Just…please don’t speak of killing her quite yet.”
I didn’t have to crawl inside his mind to know his thoughts had shifted to Rykaia right then, the look of conflict in his eyes spoke for him. Still, he kept his hand closed in a tight fist, reminding me there’d be little I could do to stop him if Aleysia were to attack me.
