Immediately, I scooped her into my arms and raced her toward Rawk. I kept a tight hold on her as we flew into the air.
“Woodcourt isn’t far,” I said. “Loelle is there. She can heal this.”
“No one else can know.” Kestra’s eyes were becoming heavy. “They’ll kill me.”
“I’ll protect you from them, I promise.”
But she only shook her head and leaned against my chest, too weak to stay awake any longer. Her final words broke what remained of my heart. “How can you say that? You planned to kill me too.”
I awoke in a real bed with a thick mattress and soft, warm blankets, and, more important, a familiar bed. I’d been here before.
This was the bed from my childhood. Where I’d grown up at Woodcourt.
Suddenly alarmed, I tried to sit up but felt a pinch in my shoulder and had to lie back down. How had I come to be here? Was I a captive? Then I remembered, at least a little.
Darrow had shot me with the disk blade I had created, one with magic to control a person’s heartbeat. It restored my life but in time, without care, would have taken my life again. The wound created by the disk had been deep.
I vaguely remembered leaving the palace, though Darrow had stayed behind to protect me. If he had survived that, he was Joth’s captive now, possibly an Ironheart himself. And if he was, I had no hope of rescuing him.
No hope, without magic.
But no corruption either.
Someone stirred behind me and I angled my head to see Simon in a chair near the fireplace, asleep.
I remembered him finding me, though I couldn’t explain how he’d known to come to that clearing. He would wonder how I was alive, a far more complicated question.
And it wouldn’t be the only explanation Simon would want. I couldn’t imagine the number of questions he might have, and certainly couldn’t begin to form answers to even the simplest questions in my mind. How could I explain what I didn’t fully understand?
I did remember the feeling of corruption—the arrogance, the paranoia, and the way it twisted my mind and my heart. Most of all, it robbed me of the most basic of feelings: love.
If that had cost me Simon’s love, I had no one to blame but myself.
Perhaps it didn’t matter. If I was here with the Coracks, it would probably also cost my life. Even before I’d had magic, most of the Coracks had already wanted me dead. I couldn’t pretend that was going to change now.
I needed to leave while it was still early and I could hope to get out of Woodcourt without being spotted. Hanging from one bedpost was the satchel I’d been wearing when I first came here. Hopefully my boots and cloa
k would be just as easy to find.
As silently as possible, I pushed aside the covers of my bed but rolled my eyes when I realized I now wore a sleeping gown. I could hardly traipse through Woodcourt in this.
If this was my old room, surely some of my old clothes still remained here.
“You’re awake.”
I looked back as Simon stood from his chair. His eyes were heavy, as if he had suddenly awoken from a deep sleep, and the tone of his voice revealed nothing of his feelings about me being here.
He must have noticed me looking at my sleeping gown because he gestured to it and said, “Loelle did that. She couldn’t leave you in the dress you had been wearing, not as torn up as it was.”
My eyes darted. “I need clothes. I cannot stay here.”
“Kestra, it’s all right.” He spoke slowly, as if fearing at the faintest hiccup, I might run. Maybe he knew I was already considering it.
“Nothing here is all right.” Every sound from the corridors made my heart stop. I couldn’t help but wonder if an army was gathering on the other side, if they already knew I was here and were stringing the noose. Whether they did or not, it was only a matter of time. “Other than Loelle, does anyone else know I’m here?”
“Rosaleen knows. I had to send her to fetch Loelle. But we can trust them. You’re safe here.”
“Am I? What will they do if they discover me?”