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“I’m going with them,” Thad declared. “And not just for myself, but Da as well. He was insistent at least one of us lay eyes on Brand.”
Amun glanced first at Alwyn and Fionerys, then Lyriat, waiting for their silent nods of approval. “Only a few minutes. He looked ready to pass out all over again by the time we were done. And”—his gaze went to Lunara, lingering there—“be careful with him.”
Lunara flinched, as if Amun’s words physically pained her.
Shite, for all Magnus knew, they did.
—Aye, Maggie. I suspect just about everything hurts for her right now—
The door wasn’t even closed behind the twins and Thad when Fionerys said, “Tell us everything.”
As these things always went, they took it in turns, each telling their part. The way he, Lyriat, and Faldir had been discussing their search plans when the Great Hall shook around them, something of both Brand and Lunara in the magical shockwave. Fern recounted the strangeness in Brand, the things he said, his attack on Lunara.
Fionerys crossed the room and knelt in front of the witchling. “And you, Luna? What did you see?”
“A vast darkness, same as before. It was starting to shrink when Fern…” Lunara shook herself. “I think I almost had him. Or at least, almost tamed whatever it is inside of him.”
“He was choking the life out of you,” Magnus growled, nearly gagging on the words.
Lunara pinned him with a withering glare. “I said what I said.”
—There’s fire in her yet. Our little sister will be alright, you’ll see—
Fern nodded her agreement, looking at Mag.
“He d-doesn’t seem to like it w-when I cry.” Lunara blinked a fresh wash of tears away, straightening her shoulders. “It was the same in the cave. ‘No more crying’ is what he said, before…before he tried to—”
“That’s okay, love,” Fionerys whispered. “We know.”
“For a split second, he was confused and frozen and him this morning. He was there. My Brand. And then I…” Lunara buried her face in her hands with a groan.
“The question is what our plan will be going forward,” Amun said.
“Agreed.” Vann kicked his booted feet up onto tufted stool and crossed his arms. “It is what it is. Now, how do we fix him?”
Alwyn joined Fionerys on the floor in front of Lunara. “What would you like to do, darling?”
Lunara dashed one hand across each cheek. “Do?”
“No one would blame you if you didn’t want to do anything,” Fionerys added. “You’ve been through so much already. But you’re his mate, and Bordoroth’s greatest healer. We will defer to you.”
The witchling blinked like she’d been struck. Mag’s parents had only spoken the truth, but he was certain Lunara never thought of herself that way.
Eventually, she blew out a long sigh through pursed lips. “My first encounter with this darkness was in Meliora. When Caius and Thaddeus brought her to me, I’d never seen anything remotely like it—not until we found Fern in Glynmor.” She glanced at the Fae. “Similar, but…worse, maybe, in its own new way.”
“Don’t worry about me, Moonweaver.” Fern’s soft smile held such an ache that Magnus swore he felt it himself. “Fuck it, eh? I’m fine.”
Lunara huffed something akin to a laugh and picked up one of her long curls, twining the length around trembling fingers. “I noticed even more parallels when Brand and I went into the Thodelemaia Chasm to search for Faldir. The shadows moved and consumed like they had in Meliora, they shielded and clouded like in Fern. But that w-wave of them, just before we found Brand in the cave…” She took a few ragged breaths, as fragile as Mag had ever seen her. “The darkness in him now is alive in the same way.”
“A shadow, once living, abides in bleak places,” Amun murmured, drawing all of their attention. “A vengeance, once loving, on five towers gazes.”
“Their hate is consuming, biting and bruising,” Vann continued, “eating and rotting and writhing and oozing.”
Magnus swallowed. The Shadow Prophecy was supposed to be a farce. The riddled ramblings of an addled creature delivered more than two centuries ago that never came to pass. And yet, there they were, the words suddenly making a sick sort of sense.
They already realized the old warnings were in play after Brand was taken, but to hear them in conjunction with what was happening to him now…
I might be sick, Pet.