Seconds to Midnight: A Maiden of Midnight Prequel

Destiny- Day One

The forest was blissfully quiet against the raging thoughts in my head, my hateful words to Cain still rumbling around like a marble that I rolled in a jar, the radio crackling as he warned everyone to radio their locations every ten minutes. Hearing my Guardians radio their agreement, I ignored the message, lifting my watch to study the digital map I had uploaded. I was standing on the edge of Morven’s territory, the Fae settlement a thirty minute walk from here. I would start there, searching Morven’s home, before circling outwards to scour the rest of the territory. Picking up the pace, I stepped over fallen trees and snapped sticks, ducking beneath low-hanging branches and avoiding the holes that filled the forest ground, and before long, the road, and any signs of the mountain behind me, had vanished behind the trees.

Animals fell silent when I stormed by, sensing the thing within me, and I grimaced, lifting my watch again, a single breath slowing the thoughts before they could snowball.

Focus on the mission. That was all I had to do.

It was all Cain had to do, too, but he was too obsessed with checking in on me to bother focusing. He cared about me, I supposed. And I had said something so hateful in response to that kindness, I was surprised he hadn’t struck me.

Stop being a child. Next time, Cain won’t be in here to help you.

I shivered, tugging my cloak closer, my hair braided down my back, the end of which I now fiddled with nervously, eyeing the forest around me. Lydiav had warned about the creatures that roamed these forests. Were any of them watching me now? Suddenly paranoid, imagining all the ways a creature could tear me apart now that I was alone out here, I sent a handful of weak tethers of power out, feeling for any sort of presence, only to find nothing but animal and plant life. For a moment, I could have sworn there was a tug on the end of one of those ribbons, but when I had flicked it, nothing had been there.

Deciding it was just standard paranoia, the feelings of children who were scared of the dark, I brushed the feeling arrogantly off.

Nothing was out here but me, Cain and my Guardians.

And maybe Morven, if he was unlucky. I continued walking, scanning the forest for any sign of Morven or other Faeries, the day ticking by, an hour becoming two, my Guardians constantly updating Cain on where they were, and although he repeatedly asked for my location, I ignored it, not wanting to speak to him when I wasn’t certain what words would come flying out of my mouth next.

Trudging through the forest was exhausting, my mouth quickly becoming dry, and I paused, kneeling beneath a large oak tree to reach into my satchel for the bottle of blood I kept there, studying my watch.

I had four hours left before I had to be back at the car. It took me two hours to walk out this far, which meant two hours back. Swigging at the bottle, I screwed the cap back on, not wanting to burn through the supply too fast.

“Des, it’s time for the location update. Where are you?” Cain’s words were crackly through the radio, the quality not the best now that I was far in the forest, and I held the button down for a moment, debating if I should respond.

A second passed, Cain silent, awaiting my reply, and I released the button, sighing. I had two hours left to continue searching before I had to turn back. Deciding I had wasted enough precious seconds sitting and drinking, I rose, stepping forward to begin my walk again only to hear the sound of branches groaning beneath and behind me, a rope flying up and wrapping around my ankles, sending me flying, upside-down, into the air, my scream of surprise ripped from my lips.

A Faery with dark grey skin stepped out from behind the tree I had knelt under, hundreds of glowing bottles, each one unique in its design and label, hanging from his body, and he wore a black and gold mask of a smiling face, only his mouth and eyes visible. They flicked over me, the movement one of a predator studying prey, and my mouth went dry for a very different reason, his scent full of death and delight. Had I not been so frightened, I would have been happy to be feeling an emotion after so long of simply faking them, even to myself, but as it was, I didn’t have the time to be happy, not when my life was in danger.

His wings were raised in pleasant surprise, and he lifted his hands, clapping them together and crooning in English, “What little raven do we have here? Hm… A pretty one, I think.”

Reaching up for Inferos, I twisted my torso, my fingers managing to scrape the edge of the blade before the Faery flew up to me, blowing a light pink powder in my face, my eyes closing against my will, sleep setting in…

*

I awoke with a gasp, the forest flipped before me, the entire world upside down, and I struggled, my hands now bound behind my back, my braid having come undone, my hair hanging beneath me like a silken sheet. The Parallel necklace, hanging from my neck, brushed against the sides of my face, remaining there only because the chain couldn’t get around my head without being unclasped. The diamonds and jadeite winked like stars, mocking me.

Sitting on the sky, or rather the ground, was the Faery who had kidnapped me, working away at a small wooden table, glass-blowing instruments scattered around him as he created a bottle barely larger than the ones used to keep ale in, the Faery singing to himself, his voice melodic and smooth, “Come away, pretty raven, spread your clipped wings…”

The landscape was different, more hills surrounding us, the Faery and I now hidden in a small valley, and I struggled against my bindings, the Faery sensing I was awake and pausing in his song to murmur, “Hello, pretty raven. Do not fret. You haven’t slept long.”

Snarling viciously, I demanded, “Let me go before I gut you, you idiot Fae!” My watch beeped, warning me that I had only an hour left, and Cain’s voice echoed over the radio, still attached to my shoulder, “Destiny, please update me on your location. Are you coming back?”

This Faery wasn’t Morven, nor any of his friends or allies, at least that I was aware of. Which meant he was unknown, and dangerous.

The grove we were in was surrounded by mountains, the valley we sat in no more than a stretch of flat land, although the Fae had dug holes here, filling them with bottles of what looked like- “Hearts,” I whispered in fear, “Those are bottles full of hearts.” Each bottle was different, as though the Faery beneath me had handmade each bottle to use, some of them carved with leaves, pens, feathers, birds, gemstones- The glass was different colours, too, making them completely unique. The Faery clapped in delight, their eyes wide with madness as they sung, “Indeed, little raven! I am a Heart-Keeper! It is an ancient form of soul-binding, used to gain powers and magic by trapping souls within bottles.” That kind of magic had to belong to the Moon Palace, since dark magic was banned in the Sun Palace, but what was most frightening was not the half-Demonic Faery before me, but the fact that not only was this Faery a Heart-Keeper, but they had done their job well enough to fill entire trenches with bottles of people’s hearts.

Struggling again, I began screaming for Cain, wishing I could reach my satchel, which was sat on the floor beside the Faery’s table, my flares hidden in a pocket in the bag.

My watch beeped again, telling me I had fifty minutes to return before it grew dark, and the Moon Palace Faery sung, “At nightfall, my magic will be strong enough to bind your heart too, little raven! You will stay with me forever! Chirp your song all you want little raven, nobody will hear you!”

I let out another scream, the forest going silent around us. Nobody replied, the Faery returning to his table, promising, “I will make you a most beautiful bottle, little raven. It will be black, like your hair and eyes, with pale stones like your skin. Perhaps I will even hunt down a raven feather to tie around the neck of the bottle, hm?”

“I will end you!” I swore, “Let me down right now, or I will kill you!”

“Ravens are always the most violent…” He sighed in dismay, “Your heart will be used to keep people young, being as youthful as you are. Hm… I cannot place your heart in the jar while it is full of blood, however.”

Reaching into my satchel, he pulled out Inferos, flying up to my height and brandishing the blade, studying it with a curious look on his face, crooning, “Little raven blade to match my little raven. How precious…”

Trying to twist away from him as he flew behind me, I began screaming again, feeling him press the tip of Inferos against the skin of my wrist, his other hand brushing soothingly against my cheek as I began to sob, shaking my head pleadingly. Cain wrapped his arms around me, trying to prevent me from seeing the room, but it was too late- “Hush, little raven. You will not hurt for long.”

With that, I felt him slide the blade across my left wrist, the wound not too deep, the Fae wanting me to bleed out slowly, so he could finish making his jar. A jar that he was going to put my heart in.

He mirrored the wound on the right wrist, and I let out a sob, my skin stinging, my fingers becoming sticky as the first of the blood dripped slowly down, aided by gravity, since I still hung upside down.

Grabbing a deep, iron cauldron, he dragged it so it was underneath my swinging body, the ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’ of droplets of my blood hitting it and sizzling against the iron, and I screamed again, the noise broken up by sobbing. It would take over an hour for me to bleed out this way, and I tried to rub my fingers against the wound to stifle the blood, only to fall short, my hands bound in such a way that I couldn’t reach my own wrists.

It had slit my wrists, just like my- Bile rose in my stomach, or rather, sunk, threatening to make me vomit, a blush of shame flooding my cheeks at the thought of throwing up over something like this.

It was a Faery, for Hell’s sake! I shouldn’t have been caught by one! I didn’t deserve the Dome scoring I had if a Faery could sneak up on me! What kind of Assassin was I?!

This was what karma was dishing out to me for being such an ass to Cain! I deserved this, didn’t I?

“Listen,” I begged, resorting to bribery now that pleading and threatening had gotten me nowhere, “I come from Royalty. I’m a Princess of Hell! You know what Hell is, right?”

The Moon Palace Faery hummed, his magic slowly forming a bottle, smoothing it out, a process that would take hours, and I continued, “Let me down, and my cousin will give you something in return. My family is powerful, and there must be something you want?”

“Only hearts, little raven.” He returned to his bottlemaking, the radio crackling once more, “Destiny, there’s forty-five minutes left before you’re meant to be here. I get that you’re mad at me, but where are you? Please just tell me where you are, Des.” He sounded heartbroken, like I had truly hurt him when I had said we weren’t friends, and I knew deep down I had.

What was wrong with me?

I would die here, because I had been too stubborn to update my location, and my final words to Cain would have been ones of hatred. I hadn’t meant it! I loved him! I did! We aren’t friends, Cain, so stop. ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’ My blood continued to fill the cauldron.

I hadn’t meant it… Why was I so broken? Why had I said those things when I knew Cain was only trying to help me?

I should have told him the truth, that I was hurting but unable to feel all at the same time, that each and every time I dragged myself out of bed, I wanted it to be the last.

I should have updated him on where I was, rather than not caring.

I didn’t want to die now, with my last words to my closest cousin declaring that he wasn’t my friend, but it seemed I didn’t get a choice. I never got a choice!

Another sob ripped itself from me, my soul crumbling in shame at each new tear, and drop of blood, that came from me, and I twisted, trying to press the radio button down with my cheek. My face, slick with sweat and tears, slipped from it without pressing the button down, and I shrieked in frustration, the Faery simply believing I was trying to escape, rather than let others know where I was.

Sending a prayer to the Demon Lords of Hell, I promised, ‘If I get out of here, I’ll apologise to Cain! I’ll never say such things again! I- I’ll try! I’ll go to the doctor appointments! I’ll go out with everyone more! I’ll try and be nice! Just please let me get out of here safely! Please!’

A wind blew through the grove, swinging the rope I hung from gently, my blood missing the cauldron by inches, sinking into the dirt, the Faery clicking his tongue.

There was no grass here.

The realisation hit me like a brick, and I looked around to see that there was no sign of true life anywhere nearby, the area so poisoned by dark magic that nothing could grow, even the trees clear of leaves, only a thorn-covered vine wrapping around them. A muddy pool sat at the base of one of those behemoth trees, a single cup and bowl nestled in the bank of it, and there was a bedroll hidden under the roots of another tree, a set of rusted silver bells hanging above it.

It would have taken hundreds of instances of dark magic to kill a region so thoroughly that even the water was dead. ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’, ‘TING!’; it was growing quicker now…

I wasn’t his first victim… Others had been here, trapped and with nobody coming to rescue them, and the Faery below me had slit their wrists, too, probably filled the same pot over and over, before using the blood for something and repeating the process.

How many bribes had he heard? Or pleads? Or threats? No wonder my own had not worked, if he had heard them all before.

I was going to die here.

My watch beeped right as I began openly crying, unable to contain my fear once more, and it flooded my scent, the Faery breathing deeply in several minutes later and sighing contentedly, “Ah, you’ve accepted it, I see. You will die here, little raven, but that’s okay. Your heart will be put to good use.”

I simply sobbed again, hyperventilating even more now that my mortality had been blatantly pointed out, and my watch beeped a second time. Thirty minutes left.

My vision was beginning to blur around the edges, making the grove appear to be in a dream-like state, and I twisted my body again, trying to press the radio button down again, knowing that if I failed, I would die. Determination made me try even when the radio slipped away from me, and finally, after what felt like hours of trying, my watch beeping once more, signalling twenty-five minutes left, I managed to hit the button. It clicked once, crackling, and I wailed, “Cain!”

There was a pause of only seconds before Cain panted in panic, “Destiny?! Sweetheart, where are you?!” My eyes closed in relief, and I hurriedly said, “It’s a grove! It’s all dead and there’s hills everywhere and there’s a Faery who’s a Heart-Keeper and he’s slit my wrists- Cain, he’s slit my wrists!”

“Who are you talking to, little raven?” The Faery sung in front of me, having flown up, and I screamed in shock, hearing my Guardians demanding to know what was happening, Cain grunting like he was sprinting, urging me to stay alive, promising that he was coming, “I’m sorry!” I wailed, “Cain, I’m sorry for what I said! I love you, and you are my friend-” Everything was spinning now, each breath feeling slower and heavier in my lungs, my fingers going numb, the colour beginning to fade from the world.

Hissing at the sight of the radio, the Heart-Keeper slammed it out of its holster, where it shattered, the pieces tumbling to the ground and bouncing off the dead earth there, my final hope of being found gone like it had never existed, the Faery lifting Inferos and snarling, “Now that you’ve made my work infinitely harder, I have to speed up the process a little!”

He spun me around, and I felt him slide Inferos deeper into my wrists, over and over, the droplets of blood becoming small rivers, my hands numb now, the feeling spreading to around my wrists where the wounds were.

In twenty minutes, it wouldn’t matter if Cain found me or not. I would be dead…

*

I cracked open my tired, aching eyes right as my watch beeped, five minutes left before the sun set, my tongue too swollen to form words, the Faery below me finishing up the last of his bottle, a lantern lighting up his workspace.

He had molded a black, glass raven around the edge of the circular bottle, a raven’s feather indeed tied to the neck of the bottle, and I opened my mouth, trying to speak only to have nothing but a whisper of hot air come out, completely soundless. Even my tears had dried up, my heartbeat slowing, and each breath made me feel like I was underwater, my head pounding with pain, what little blood still in circulation now rushing to my mind. The cauldron beneath me was a quarter full, still sizzling against the iron, and I dizzily giggled at the patterns it made, my blood like dark stars falling from the sky before they plummeted into the lake below.

The grove seemed lighter, like the colours had flooded back in, and I shook my head, trying to clear the dream-like, foggy feeling from my brain.

…What was happening to me?... Wait, I knew the answer to that question… I was dying.

There was a crackling of dead leaves around the grove, the Faery too lost in his song to notice, and I saw a pair of eyes peer out from behind a tree. They widened when they saw me.

Rising from his seat, the Faery grabbed the now-finished bottle, my blood having slowed to droplets once more, and he leaned over, picking up Inferos and singing, “It’s time, little raven!” He flew up, the beat of his wings filling the air, and he added, “The moonlight is so pretty in your dark feathers, little raven! Do you have any last words?”

I shook my head weakly, my eyelids guttering, and he tilted forward, pressing the tip of Inferos to my chest, right above where my heart was, promising, “You will not feel this for lo-” He let out a squeal of pain, Inferos and the bottle tumbling to the ground, where the glass smashed, and a moment later, the Faery fell after them, an arrow neatly through his left wing. I heard the ‘THWIP!’ of a second arrow being fired, although I did not see it hit the Faery. Had they missed?

He landed heavily in the dirt, and a second later, I was looking at the world differently, the sky now above me, two bands of hard air around my body- No, not air. Arms.

Cain had caught me with a grunt, swearing when he saw how pale I was, letting out a small cry of anguish, and I heard the Faery behind me screaming as my cousin carried me out of the grove, Nym, Lydiav and Bal’gag shouting orders, and throwing weapons, to each other.

When we were on soft grass, Cain laid me down on the ground, ripping his shirt off and tearing it into strips that he tied tightly around my wrists, preventing the last of my blood from bleeding out…

…There was a strange humming around me, the world shaking slightly, and I heard Nym cry, “She’s awake! Cain, pull over!”

Opening my eyes, I frowned in confusion when I saw the grass and trees had been suddenly replaced by Zeella’s car, the humming the sound of the engine while we drove, Cain hurriedly pulling to the side and rushing out, tugging me from the backseat to study me on the side of the hard, gravel road, and I groaned, “Wha-”

“Sh, Des… You’re okay.”

The rope had been cut away from my wrists, although I couldn’t remember when it had happened, and it was no longer on my feet. The makeshift bandages Cain had made from his shirt were black with my blood, soaked in it, and he tugged me into his lap, stroking my hair gently, Nym and Lydiav reaching into the trunk of the car for a proper first-aid kit.

“I should have updated… the grove wasn’t Morven… We’re friends.” Everything felt sluggish again, words too hard to focus on. Hopefully Cain understood what I had meant.

His shoulders shook with the force of a single sob, nodding and promising in a breathless whisper, “Yeah, we’re friends, Des. Don’t worry, we’re going to fix you up, okay?”

Cain held me down while Bal’gag removed the strips of shirt from my wrists, all of them swearing when they saw the damage, and my cousin covered my eyes before I could see the cuts, whispering sweet, meaningless things to me. I could hear Nym threading a needle, Lydiav preparing cream, painkillers and bandages, and a second later, I felt the tug of skin being pulled together, the first of six deep cuts being stitched back together.

My mouth was so dry… A moment later, and it was over, Lydiav placing the last of the cream-slathered bandages around my wrists, securing them in place with small clips, Cain picking me up and asking, “Bal’gag, can you drive?”

My Guardian replied something I couldn’t hear, my ears ringing, the cold air of the night replaced with the warm air of the car once more, and I was now nestled in Cain’s lap, my cousin stroking my hair still, his other hand tucking my wrists close to my body, the hum of the car rocking me to sleep…

“I’m sorry.” The words seemed to come from nowhere, surprising even me, and Cain jolted from his light sleep, asking, “Pardon, Des?” Moonlight shone through the window of the car, Nym asleep in the front passenger seat of the car, Bal’gag’s eyes locked onto the road. Lydiav was also asleep, snoring away beside Cain. It had to be close to dawn by now…

“I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No. It was horrible of me.”

He squeezed me, hugging me tightly, promising, “We’ll talk about it when you’re back on your feet. We’re going to a motel for the night, and we’ll continue the search for Morven tomorrow. Get some sleep, Des.”

I nodded sleepily, resting my head against Cain’s chest, hearing his heart beating steadily, and a moment later, his hand laid itself over my chest, feeling my own heartbeat, the both of us sinking into sleep…

*

Whatever motel we were in, it was cheap.

That was the first thought I had when I awoke to the sound of the humming light above the room, swinging from a single, worn chain, Cain and my Guardians seated around an old, splintering table, the chairs of the metal foldable kind, like the ones you would find at festivals, or street barbeques.

A small bread basket covered in dust sat in the centre of the table, Nym slowly whittling one breadstick with her knife, banging it on the table to show how hard it was before sighing, “You’ve outdone yourself, Bal’gag. This is officially the most romantic hotel you’ve brought me too.”

“To be fair,” Cain added with a cheeky grin, Bal’gag flipping his fellow Guardian off, “I said cheap, not good.” Lydiav giggled, lifting the carton of juice they had been given and saying, “This juice is four years old.” Hell, it would smell absolutely foul if she opened that carton. Her fingers wrapped around it as if to do just that, prompting me to weakly plead with a groan of pain, “Don’t open it.” All four of the people seated at the table suddenly scrambling to kneel beside the bed, trying to reach me first. Cain made it there before the others, taking my hand in his, his other hand stroking my hair lovingly, his voice soft when he said, “Hey, Des. You feeling okay?”

Coughing, I admitted weakly, “I’ve been better.” His eyes lit up in surprise at the admission, Nym grabbing a towel from her bag and saying, “I’m willing to give you some blood.” Lydiav and Bal’gag nodded eagerly, seeming to agree. Shaking my head, I replied, “No, no, you don’t have to do that. That’s not part of your duties as my Guardians.” Cain, brandishing a towel of his own, held onto it firmly, asking, “My blood, or theirs?”

Closing my eyes, I sighed, “I don’t want any of you to-”

My cousin was already pressing his wrist against my lips before I could finish the sentence, my eyes flying open at the smell of already bubbling blood to see he had pricked his skin there with one of his blades, trying to entice me. Grinding my teeth, I felt them elongating, my Guardians smiling. He pressed it tighter to my lips, the blood warm… I knew I needed blood. I had lost too much to recover it overnight without taking in some from one of the others before me, but I didn’t want to use them as bloodbanks.

The others returned to the table, giving us privacy, Cain’s arm sliding behind my back to help me sit up, and he sat on the bed beside me, the springs in the mattress groaning, his arm still extended, the blood from the self-inflicted wound beginning to bubble up.

Grabbing his arm, I sank my teeth into it, my cousin wincing in pain before relaxing, the hand with the towel gripping underneath where I had bitten, preventing blood from dripping. It was warm when it filled my mouth, the taste sharp, and Cain murmured, “Not too fast.” Like I was a child who needed to be warned.

Swallowing several mouthfuls, already beginning to feel more lively, I removed my teeth from Cain’s arm, licking the wound, which healed over, Cain wiping the excess blood away with the towel, Nym enquiring, “How do you feel?”

“Better. Much better. Thank you… All of you.”

They bowed their heads, turning to go back to their activities, “No, really. You all saved my life today. That- That thing…” I shuddered, my eyes sinking to the cuts on my wrists. They were covered in crisp white bandages, expertly bound by the people before me.

Their swift thinking had saved my life today. Cain had found me in seemingly no time, considering the size of the forest, and Nym had expertly stitched my skin back together.

Bal’gag had driven us safely here, and Lydiav had tied the bandages off perfectly.

“They’re called Heart-Keepers,” Cain explained to all of us, “And had I known one was in this forest, I would have ordered all of you to stay together. Heart-Keepers are typically Moon Palace Faeries, since the magic they work in is dark. You all saw how that grove was dead? Heart-Keepers’ magic sucks the life out of their surroundings.”

“That thing had hundreds of them, the bottles,” Lydiav said uncomfortably, writhing in disgust in her chair, Cain nodding, “They keep bottles of hearts from their victims. That particular Faery was about eight-hundred-years old. Bal’gag, you said some of the deepest bottles were labelled from around that time period?” My Guardian nodded, grimacing.

“About seven-hundred years. That thing started collecting young. The bottles weren’t well-made. Or sealed.” Eight hundred was old, for Fae, and considering he’d looked quite young… I grimaced.

Nym shuddered, reaching into her bag and pulling out a bottle of sanitizer, the very thought of whatever they had seen, or touched, making her feel dirty. Cleaning her hands, she asked, “The bottles were themed. Each one was different. Like the bottle it was making for Destiny was… raven themed? Bird themed?”

“He called me a ‘pretty raven’,” I quoted, the image of that bottle rising in my mind now that I wasn’t panicking. Cain hissed, baring his teeth, before adding, “Heart-Keepers do what they do because hearts are prized in certain spells and potions. Even some Necromancy spells require them. He was calling you a raven because he didn’t know the word for Demonic-being, but needed a way to categorise you in his mind so he knew what to sell if someone came asking. Ravens were a way for the less educated Super-Naturals to identify what species we were, once.”

“How could it not know the word for Demonic-being? We’ve been around since the beginning of time!” Lydiav cried out. Shrugging, Cain sighed, “It might not have been educated. Maybe it just never left that forest, or the Fae settlement within. The Manor wouldn’t have bothered with coming out here unless it was on business like this, so he only remembers us by an old adage.”

“What would it have done with Destiny’s heart?”

“With how rural it was, he didn’t seem to have many buyers. It would have gone into one of those pits and stayed there.”

“Yeah, but if he had… buyers. What would Destiny’s heart have been used for?”

Looking to me, he said, “She’s young, pretty. Smart. Not to mention physically healthy.” He didn’t bother adding what mental state I was in. We all knew I wasn’t healthy in that department.

“Her heart would have been fantastic in any sort of spell, potion or ritual that kept people young, made you more beautiful, made you healthy… Hell, it would work in giving a raised soul a new heart.”

“Have you bought hearts before?” My voice was quiet, my nose wrinkling in disgust, Cain shaking his head, “Too controversial for me. You saw how they had you strung up like that, slowly bleeding out? That’s an old technique, but a lot of Heart-Keepers still follow it because it dries the heart out better. If I need a heart for any Necromantic ritual, I’m either harvesting it myself, using methods I agree with, or buying it fresh from a morgue.”

“Is it dead?”

Cain looked to Nym for this, my Guardian explaining, “After I shot through its wing, and shot you down with an arrow, it wrapped itself in magic and disappeared, although Bal’gag got a decent hit on it with his knife. We didn’t have time to finish hunting it, but-” Cain cut in with an apologetic bow of his head, finishing, “It’ll go back to the grove. Its life’s work is there. Tomorrow, when we go back out to the forest, I’ll kill it myself. Heart-Keepers often have wards or spells meant to preserve their life, so I have to kill it to ensure it doesn’t come back.” Which brought me to the next question that had been bouncing around my head ever since Cain had explained what a Heart-Keeper was: “Could Morven have been killed by it? Are Faeries useful to them?”

“It’s rare for a Heart-Keeper to kill one of its own kind, but if Morven wandered too close to its territory, or pissed it off, it’s possible. This particular one seemed crazed, so maybe it’s not too much of a stretch that it has begun hunting Faeries. After I kill it, we can search the pits for Morven’s heart. The scent should give it away. Until then, I want everyone here to get some serious sleep. We’ll head back to the forest…” Lifting his watch, he winced at the time, my own watch reading that it was six in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise on the horizon. “At one in the afternoon, maybe two. The Heart-Keeper should still be sleeping at that point in time.”

Settling back into my bed, the mattress thankfully clean, I patted it for Cain to join me, my Guardians settling into the second, larger bed together. Bal’gag wrapped his arm around Nym, letting her cuddle close, Lydiav taking the other half of the bed with a satisfied smile.

Opening his arms, Cain pulled me closer, my chin resting on his chest, my legs intertwined with his. He pulled the blanket over us, waiting until the others had drifted off to sleep to murmur, “What happened today-”

“I’m sorry for,” I said sincerely, “I was awful to you. I’m sorry. Truly.”

Shaking his head, my cousin gulped thickly, tears in his voice when he replied, “I don’t care about anything you said, not now, anyway. I know you were just angry and hurt. It was… hearing you scream over the radio like that, after hours of just static… Hell below, I thought you were dead. I literally thought you had been tortured for hours, and you were dying, and I wasn’t going to get to you in time, especially when you mentioned that he… hurt your wrists. I don’t think I have ever run that fast in my entire life.”

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your scent to this tree, and your bottle of water was under it. Then there was a pink powder everywhere, and an old rope. That was when I found that second scent, and my heart just stopped…”

“I don’t think that’s the effect the Heart-Keeper wants,” I joked lightly, Cain trembling against me, his voice wobbling, “Finding you in the tree, with him holding Inferos to your chest… Had I been a minute later, Des, you would be dead right now. That cauldron had so much of your blood I thought you were dead, and I had failed you.” He pulled me closer to him, assuring himself I was really here, sighing in relief when I sunk into the hug, his body warm, the scent comforting and known. How many times had we slept like this, both as kids and now? Shaking my head, I scratched at the bandages, the stitches underneath itchy, beginning to heal, “No. I wasn’t updating my location. I’m impressed you found me so quickly.”

“I had to. When you described how he’d hurt you, I knew it was a Heart-Keeper. I had to find you.”

“What about the curse?” I questioned curiously, Cain chewing his lip for a moment.

“It would have failed, I think. Heart-Keeper magic binds your heart and soul to them. You would have been gone. They’re similar to Kiritins, in that effect.”

Shuddering, I grimaced. So there would have been no coming back, had it killed me…

Kissing my cheek, Cain tried to lighten the mood, murmuring, “You’re okay, though.”

Smiling at him, I nodded, pinching his arm and saying, “Thanks to you.”

He smiled warmly, pulling me closer, the two of us drifting to sleep…