Page 39 of The Ashborn

“Connak,” Kienna interrupted his thoughts. “I didn’t know it was important, but Tislin said the shadows of the dungeons were Shades.”

That was the kind of news that could knock a man directly off a horse. Shades were warded in their own realm. If they were in River Storm, they had a way out, and that meant far more threats to them than he could have imagined. Connak inhaled deeply, bringing his hand to his forehead. He tried not to be angry. She had no idea, but getting Kienna to think outside her own perspective was frustrating.

“I need to go figure out how that doesn’t bite us in the ass later. Danek will be there tonight.”

“Are you mad?”

“No,” he lied, though he tried to soften it through the tone of his voice. “I’ll catch up later.”

He knew that was going to bite him in the ass later, too. She finally trusted him with something, and he was mad. He was spiraling much quicker than usual, as if Kienna’s fractured mind was bleeding into his own. It wasn’t Kienna’s fault that she didn’t know what details were important to share. This realm was still so fresh to her, but the Shades had a personal vendetta against them, despite the King of River Storm. The Elvish had their own weapon, one that commanded the same shadows as the Shades, and the Shades wanted their blood back. It’d be a lot easier for the Shades to find a way through with King Vaerin and his undead army. The king’s dark magic was advantageous to the shadows. And if the king commanded them, it truly meant the rumors he heard might be true. The wards were in danger of breaking, and shadow magic was on the loose.

There were too many things piling on his shoulders at once. Tension stiffened his hands as he drummed his fingers against his leg to calm his nerves. He was usually better at handling these things, being the calm to Kienna’s storm and helping her weather anything, even when she tried to shut him out. These emotions, these frustrations, didn’t feel like his, and that only worried him further. If Kienna’s mind was truly broken, and those emotions were seeping into him, it wouldn’t be long before they both unraveled. He’d have to figure it out; otherwise, it would drive them both crazy. Tensing his fists and then releasing them, Connak stood to find Danek.

—Danek—

Danek got himself lost in the city once or twice, getting to Kienna’s apartment by The Elarent House, but a few locals steered him in the right direction. Ruva sat in the alleyway, panting as she greeted him with a low howl.

“Always good to see you, Ruva,” he said, giving the wolf a pat on the head.

Inside the building, Danek knocked on their door. He was greeted by Moira. She wrapped him in a hug, then pulled him inside. He jumped as a gray cat brushed against his legs. Kienna and Tislin were in the bedroom close to the kitchen with an old man writhing in pain. Kienna held his arms to keep him from thrashing, but he screamed the vilest words, then apologized, cried, and went back to it.

Kienna turned, grasp still latched to the man’s wrists. “Elowen tried to send us herbs to curb his pain, but he’s suffering.”

Danek approached and looked at him. “What do I need to heal?”

“Elowen says⁠—”

“Who is Elowen?”

“A friend of mine—it doesn’t matter, Danek. Calder needs help. Elowen says his liver and pancreas, at least, but he needs the alcohol to be flushed from his entire body.”

Tislin grunted as he held the man in place. He was surprisingly strong for his condition. A fist flew up and hit Tislin square in the jaw. The Shadowmaster growled, thrusting his palms onto Calder, shadows seeping out of him to restrain the old man.

“Sorry,” he said, tighter than usual. “We have been doing this for hours. We need to rest. Danek.” He closed his eyes to hide the black that swarmed his irises. “Push a fever. Let sweat carry out what it can, then tend to the liver. He’ll need three rounds before sunrise, or it won’t hold. Three, Danek.” Danek went to protest, but Tislin held his hand up. “It’s not a matter of skill, it’s procedure. After that, see to the kidneys. They’ll bear what’s left of the weight.”

Tislin left, and Moira trailed him. The shadows from Calder’s hands released, and the old man shifted into another fit of writhing.

“How does one push a fever?” Danek asked, rubbing the nape of his neck as he tried to speak over Calder’s cries.

“Why don’t you put him to sleep first?” Kienna suggested.

She leaned over to the man on the bed. “Master Calder, this is Danek. He’s a good friend of mine. He can heal you.”

“I don’t want that fucking magic touching me. Fucking Elvish. Should have healed those who actually needed it before we got here.”

Kienna only nodded to Danek. He stepped forward, waving his hand over Calder’s mind. He hadn’t used illusions to trick someone into sleeping before, but it came so naturally that he surprised himself. He huffed a short laugh but remembered his next step. “I still don’t know how to push a fever. I’ve never gone the opposite way of healing before.”

“He’s probably already close to one,” Kienna said, feeling his head. “Maybe more heat?”

Danek looked around. Kienna didn’t have much for blankets and no fireplace to warm the room. He could trick the mind into feeling hotter, but it wouldn’t give true effects. With the sun gone, Moira might not be able to pull warmth in either.

“Start the process,” Kienna urged.

“I’ll have to skip this part⁠—”

“Try,” she said again, scooting to the side of the bed where Danek kneeled. She put her hand on his, a sudden heat passing into his skin. Her fingers glowed with a faint orange, the K on Kienna’s thumb illuminating. Danek jerked his head back to determine if his mind was playing tricks on him or not. She wouldn’t acknowledge him, only stared at the old man with resolve.

Danek parted his mouth, but what would he say? His eyes drifted to her wrist, where the charm sat. The Elvish were confident that her magic was cut off. Was the warmth because she touched him? If so, he knew he was in trouble.