Page 151 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

I stood up and reached the exit openings, attempting to fit myself through. Failing as the holes narrowed the further in you got and were only big enough to barely accommodate my body. “Now tell me, Magnus, how did that thing fit through there when someone of my size barely can?”

The Sun King gaped for a moment and attempted to fit himself through one of the exits and then another, only to fail each time. Realisation crossed his features. “It transforms. It was human.”

I nodded. “Someone of a shorter and smaller stature than us.”

“Seems like the work of Silas’s witch.”

“From what our Crafter has said it is highly doubtful that Silas’s witch is capable of forging such a beast. But we might finally be able to find out what it exactly is,” I said, pointing to the dagger I’d dipped in the green mucous. “I will have our Crafter take a look at this.”

He nodded, rubbing a frustrated hand through his beard. “We were so occupied dealing with our dead and our losses that we didn’t pay attention to many things.”

I clasped his shoulder, the movement making me wince from the shooting pain it sent through my ribs. “No one would have been prepared for that, Magnus. There is no one to blame but Silas.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, though his shadows read of troubling concern. “I will have someone go down the adits, see if they can find anything down there.”

Almost everyone had gathered in Visha’s quarters, and that annoyed the young witch beyond measure. But then, Visha was easily annoyed. Even as a child she’d liked quietude not only because it focused her magic and kept chaos intact, but because she’d been the centre of attention before even being born. Not for being the next Grand Maiden, but for being the future bride of the prince of death.

Caiden impatiently tapped his foot as Visha poured a bubbling red liquid over the dagger coated with the green mucous. “Come on, witchling,” the general pushed through gritted teeth.

Alaric clasped his shoulder. “Patience, kid.”

The Zephyr dropped his head back with an annoyed groan. “I’m going to chain her when she returns. Chain her, Ric. She went out there knowing this thing is lurking god knows anywhere near her.” He’d reacted the worst at the news of what I’d found out in Solarya. What I’d observed in Isjord came back to me. Caiden was not afraid for Snow. He knew the best out of all how capable she was. The fact that she was out of his reach and out of his protection had roused a massive cloud of trouble around him.

Nia stood from her seat and faced her disturbed friend. “I could go to her.”

Caiden pointed a finger in warning. “If I have to worry about you, too, I will lose my mind. I swear, Nia, think of stepping in Silas’s land after we found so many traps and I will personally chain you. Open a book or make some…tea for yourself, you’re not going anywhere.”

Nia lifted her hands in surrender. “Alright, okay.”

“Could you argue outside of my quarters?” Visha spoke quietly, still concentrating over whatever she was concocting. “You’re upsetting the spiritual.”

“You’re upsetting my spiritual, witch,” Caiden said, settling back in his chair beside me. I felt him turn to me. “How are you so calm?”

“I am not.”

“He is badly injured,” Visha said calmly, still in her bubble, not even looking at us. “The spiritual is screaming with his pain.”

“If it is bothering you,” I said, standing. I hadn’t considered that.

She lifted her head, finally looking at me. “It will upset her. I did after all make an oath to heal you.” Her eyes dropped to my chest and she calmly—almost boredly—added, “You are bleeding.”

Nia gasped when she looked over at me. “Kilian, you need a healer.”

“I am fine.”

Caiden stood, a frown etched in his brows as he looked at the blood coating my shirt. “I will go fetch a healer. I have no intention of dealing with Snow if shadow boy here dies before she kills him.”

Just as he left, a soft knock rasped on the door and all of us rose in surprise when Elias Venzor himself walked into the Crafter’s chamber. He let out a low whisper of awe as he studied Visha’s space. “Snow did tell me you had switched one den for the other.”

The Crafter shut her eyes slowly and let out a sigh. “Why are you here, Elias?”

“You know one another?” Nia asked.

Elias walked to Visha and threw an arm over her shoulder. “Best pals since the age of two. My grandmother, may she rest in heavens, was Eldmoorian and a friend of Urinthia’s. Visha and I used to bathe in the same basin.”

Wasn’t this world small?

The Crafter pushed him off and gently righted herself. “Not by choice. Explain why you're here or I’ll turn you into a little blonde mouse.”