It was so beautiful, so hopeful, and so tangible in its healing that I suddenly realized I wanted to continue on in the work, despite its effects. After so much fighting, so much destruction caused by my powers, finally I could heal something, and add peace and promise to this land. And so I began, working for nearly a month to heal the forest.
Every day, moving from one area to another, I’d work for as long as my strength endured, emptying and refilling myself over and over. It never seemed like enough before I had to quit, but gradually, the pockets connected and the forest began to come to life. Birds could be heard in the distance, the ground softened, and snow began to fall again.
Sometime in those weeks, I also became more aware of the half-lives who lived here, the target of Lord Endrick’s curse.
“Let me heal them too,” I begged Loelle, every single day. “Darrow.”
“We cannot, not yet” was her daily reply, with no further explanation.
Still, I continued, so focused on my work that I was becoming immune to the cold. I felt the chill in the air, but it no longer bothered me. Rather, it was the heat from Loelle’s evening fires that made me uncomfortable, so I began to sit near the door, leaving it cracked open enough that I could rest.
The evenings were most difficult. That was when my thoughts drifted toward Simon, wondering if he was still the Halderian king, wondering if he was now married to Harlyn Mindall. Wondering if he had ever tried to find me.
Then, one morning, I said to Loelle, “Simon was wrong about me getting magic.”
Loelle looked up from a book she had been reading. “Oh? In what way?”
“He thought it would corrupt me, but consider all the good I’ve been able to do for these woods.”
Loelle’s smile saddened. “Yes, you’ve done what no one else could.”
“Let me heal Darrow,” I said. “I’ve earned that much.”
“You have,” Loelle said. “Soon, Kestra. I promise.”
Soon. I would see my father again soon.
Until then, I had work to do.
We were a month into winter, and there hadn’t been one sign of Kestra anywhere in Antora, nor beyond. With the permission of Captain Tenger, the leader of the Corack rebellion, Trina and Gabe and a few other Coracks had been combing the land for Kestra, and so far, their search for even the barest hint of her had come up empty. Despite recovering from a terrible illness at the time Kestra left and my new responsibilities as king of the Halderians, I’d ventured out myself as often as possible, but every trace of her had vanished.
Loelle had hidden her well, likely with the use of whatever magic she possessed beyond her abilities as a physician. I was certain she would keep Kestra alive, but I couldn’t fathom why Loelle had taken her away in the first place. All I knew was that Kestra’s absence had pierced a hole in my heart and it only became worse with each passing day.
Every time I returned home from an attempt to find her, Harlyn met me in the stables. She never asked about Kestra directly, likely because she already knew how I’d answer.
Instead, her question today was, “How is your arm?” She’d asked this before, and I’d come to understand that she was really asking, “How are you?”
Barely looking at her, I said, “Everything’s fine.”
Which was true only in the sense that my arm was fine. I, on the other hand, was miserable.
I dismounted, and as I did, she touched my right arm, pretending to study it when we both knew she wanted a reason to approach me.
“It hasn’t softened,” she said.
“It never will,” I replied. “You know that, Harlyn.”
In the battle with the Dominion, I’d discovered a Rawkyren, a young dragon, being tormented by Ironheart soldiers. I had rescued the dragon, but somehow its blood had mixed with mine, and now the flesh beneath my right arm was as strong as a dragon’s scales.
At first, the Rawkyren could land on my arm without causing injury, despite digging its claws into my flesh for support. But the Rawkyren was too large for that now, almost the size of the Dominion’s giant condors, and growing more each day. It accompanied me on every search for Kestra, though it usually remained on its own in the wild while I was here in Nessel.
Harlyn lowered her eyes. “I do know that. But I fear the injury did more than turn your arm to stone. I believe it turned you to stone. Will you never look at me with anything but contempt?”
I placed my hand over hers. “It’s not contempt, but we both know you haven’t told me everything about the night Kestra left, about why she left.”
Her eyes became teary. “Gerald already explained it to you.”
“Did he?” I pulled my hand free and stepped back. She remained where she was, but as I started out the stable doors, Gerald walked in, giving me a quick bow. I glanced over at Harlyn, wondering if this was yet another secret plan, but this time she looked as confused as I did.