Page 48 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"You're not dying," she says with surprising fierceness. "I won't allow it."
I manage a weak smile. "Giving orders to death now, are we? Bold strategy."
The fever spikes again, shadows writhing across my skin. Through the pain, I'm vaguely aware of Nesilhan's voice, not cold or distant as usual, but urgent, almost pleading as she works to counter the curse.
When I wake again, the room is bathed in soft dawn light, and my mind is clearer than it has been in days. The fever has broken completely, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness but blessedly little pain. My shadows respond normally to my thoughts, sliding along the walls in familiar patterns.
Nesilhan is asleep in the chair beside my bed, her body curled into an uncomfortable position that cannot possibly be restful. I find myself watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, a strange tightness in my own at the realization that she truly has not left my side throughout this ordeal.
As if sensing my attention, her eyes flutter open, immediately alert despite her exhaustion. She straightens, pushing hair from her face in a gesture that's oddly endearing.
"You're not dead," she observes, her voice rough with sleep.
"Keen observation," I reply. "Your healing skills are clearly matched by your perceptiveness."
She ignores my sarcasm, leaning forward to press her palm to my forehead. The touch is clinical but not cold. "The fever's gone. How do you feel?"
"Like I've been trampled by a herd of shadow beasts, but otherwise remarkably alive." I sit up, pleased to find that the room remains stationary rather than spinning wildly. "Your potions worked."
As I move to stand, testing my strength, a glimmer of silver light catches my attention from the corner of the room. At first, I think it's a trick of the morning sun on glass, but then it moves—a distinctly humanoid shape that flickers in and out of visibility.
"What is that?" I demand, shadows instinctively gathering despite my weakness.
She follows my gaze, her face draining of color when she sees what I'm looking at. "What is what?"
"Don't play innocent," I growl, squinting at the shimmering figure that's becoming more distinct by the second. "That... thing in the corner."
"He can see me," a female voice announces with cheerful curiosity. "How fascinating! The curse temporarily opened his perception to see beings from other realms, but when it fully clears, so will those memories."
The figure materializes fully—a small woman with wildly shifting silver-blonde hair and oversized eyes that gleam with mischief. Translucent wings shimmer behind her, casting prismatic patterns on the wall where they catch the light.
"Banu!" Nesilhan hisses, panic evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you, obviously," the woman—Banu—replies with a dismissive wave. Her presence filling the room despite her smaller stature. "You've been here for days. I was starting to think you'd eloped with Shadow Boy here and were enjoying a very extended honeymoon. All those moans coming from this room..."
She winks suggestively.
"He can see you," Nesilhan repeats, making frantic shooing motions. "He shouldn't be able to see you!"
"Oh, that." Banu steps closer, examining me with unabashed interest. "Shadow magic. Opens the perception. Temporary side effect." She circles me with graceful steps, then flicks my ear painfully. "My, he's even prettier up close. I can see why you've been so distracted lately, Nesi. Those cheekbones could cut glass."
Despite my weakness, I find myself oddly energized by thissurreal conversation. "Thanks," I say dryly, hoping she will be invisible again. "I'm also charming and incredibly powerful, when not recently cursed. Would you like to find out what my shadows can do to fairy wings?"
"Ooh, threatening me already!" Banu cackles, darting just out of reach. "Charming indeed. Tell me, Shadow Boy, is it true what they say about men with big shadow magic? That it's all compensating for... smaller attributes?" She makes a measuring gesture with her thumb and forefinger, barely an inch apart.
Nesilhan makes a strangled noise. "Banu, I swear—"
"What?" Banu asks innocently. "I'm only getting to know your husband. After all, if you're going to be riding his—"
"He's not supposed to see you!" Nesilhan cuts her off, cheeks flaming. "The blood bond—"
"Relax," Banu interrupts. "He won't remember any of this anyway. The fever and the curse will wipe his memory of anything... unusual." She turns to me with a wicked grin. "That means me, by the way. I'm the unusual thing. Though from what I've observed, you're into some pretty unusual things yourself, Shadow Boy. Those shadows of yours get very... creative in the bedroom, don't they?"
"Depends on my partner," I reply, recovering enough to play along. "Care for a demonstration? I've always wondered if fairies taste like honey or more like those annoying little insects they resemble."
"In your dreams, Shadow Boy," Banu snorts. "Though I'm flattered by your interest, my tastes run more toward beings who don't brood constantly and kill people for fun. Besides, your wife here would get jealous, and trust me—you don't want to see her jealous. Remember that maid who flirted with her first boyfriend? Still missing three fingers."
"Banu!" Nesilhan looks ready to combust.
