A Hint of Frost: Araneae Nation ( Book One) (21 page)

As a Mimetidae, the option wouldn’t have occurred to him any more than it had to me. “He’s right, isn’t he?” Of course he was. A warrior such as Rhys would know his own body. Battling venomous clans while ignorant of the consequences was suicide, and he wouldn’t be so careless. “He won’t make it to Erania.”

“I can’t say. The last time he fell ill, it wasn’t this serious, but he wasn’t fighting off Theridiidae venom, either.” He paused, considering. “Beltania is the closer city of the two.”

I dared to hope. “Can Mana help Rhys?”

“Any treatment she gives him will focus on the spiritual rather than the physical.” He steadied Rhys and looked to him for confirmation, but Rhys’s head hung loose, and no answer was forthcoming. “If he said she can help, he would know better than me.”

I had to hear the answer for myself, aloud, from someone who knew and whose confirmation of my fear would keep me honest. “What Mana said about Rhys enlightening me…returning to Beltania is more than a matter of convenience. He shares the Salticidae beliefs, doesn’t he?”

Vaughn hesitated. “It’s complicated. Mother’s physician has attended him several times, but if he asked for Mana…”

“Then I will honor his wishes.” My hands trembled where they pressed against my eyes.
One of us must choose.
My earlier thoughts mocked me now.

Rhys had chosen. I was the one ignoring his decision. Here I stood, debating his wishes with his brother, having my first cordial conversation with Vaughn, while Rhys fought for his life. His efforts would not be wasted. Honoring his choice was the best care I could offer him, and no less than what he deserved. “Let’s take him home.”

Ignoring the fear gnawing at my gut, I tucked myself beneath Rhys’s arm and helped him walk.

“Is there anything I can do?” Bram asked.

“You can choose your side.” I had no time for coddling.

“My bed is made.” He gestured toward Kellen. “I will lie in it.”

“There are no witnesses save the five of us.” I gave him fast options as we eased Rhys into Marron’s saddle. “If you want to collect your reward privately and return to your people, we will allow it. Tell your maven her son’s death is on my head. You’re wounded. You can claim we ambushed you and—”

“I’m ill from her son’s venom, which would only happen one way.” He jerked his chin toward the road. “Go on. Get your male to the help he needs. I’ll escort your sister. We’ll meet you in Erania, I swear by my honor.”

“Can I trust honor that can be bought?”

“I don’t see why not.” He winked at me. “You’ve the deepest purse, now haven’t you?”

His answer hardly reassured me. My mouth opened, but the sound I heard came from Rhys. He slumped forward, bracing on the base of Marron’s neck, which made her toss her head and him list to one side. I turned away from Bram and crawled behind Rhys, cinching my arms around his waist. Muscles screamed in my back as his weight shifted onto me. Once I was settled, Vaughn passed me Marron’s reins and strode toward Bram.

Fisting the other male’s collar, Vaughn said, “I’m riding ahead to Beltania with Lourdes. Guard Pascale with your life and make no detours on your way to Erania.” He leaned dangerously close. “Don’t make me search for you. There is nowhere you can go that I can’t find you.” He shoved him back. “Remember that.”

Bram sobered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Stay to the road, and don’t venture into the forest.” I pointed toward the supply sacks hung from the trio of varanus. “Eat only what supplies you have on hand. Understand?”

“The yellow death,” he said on a curse. “It’s moving north?”

“So it seems.” I shouldn’t have been surprised he was on a first-name basis with the disease. After all, he hailed from a southern clan.

Vaughn’s head swung my way. “Lourdes?”

I nodded once, then dug my heels into Marron’s sides. She broke into a rough gallop that jarred my teeth each time my chin hit Rhys’s shoulder. Setting my jaw, I tightened my grip on the reins and held on for the ride.

Flickering torchlight heralded our return to Beltania, and Marron’s irritated roar saved us from announcing ourselves. Who else would barrel down the streets astride a snarling ursus this time of night?

Dark-skinned warriors darted onto the road, their arms outstretched, but the Deinopidae scattered once realizing Marron would as soon as plow through them as slow her frantic pace.

“Easy, girl.” I patted her flank and loosened my grip. She took my cue and coasted to an uneven lope, panting hard as I gave her direction.

Old Father’s home was central to the city, and the road led me straight to his door. Dismounting was impossible with Rhys dependent on me to keep him upright. A second’s consideration for those sleeping flittered past. Pleasantries were a luxury I couldn’t afford. I filled my lungs and let desperation fuel my cry. “Mana!”

A moment later, her dark head popped through the low-slung doorway. Her hair was plaited, and she wore a thin gown, but her drowsy eyes cleared when she spotted Rhys.

“What happened to him?” She ran to my side and grasped his shoulders to ease some of his weight from me.

“We were ambushed on the road south of here.” With her help, I hit the ground, wincing as spasms twitched in my back. “He was shot by a Theridiidae archer.” Together we held him steady while sharing a glance that said plainly
what do we do now
? He was too heavy to lift between the two of us. All we could do was hold him steady and wait for Vaughn to arrive.

Mana bowed her head. “May the gods be merciful.”

I bit my tongue. Rhys trusted her to save him. He wouldn’t have sent me here without a reason. Unless…memories of our walk beside his father’s grave flickered through my head.
No
. I crushed thoughts born of panic and focused on Mana and what she could do for him. “He asked me to bring him here, to you. He said to tell you his soul needs an anchor. What does that mean?”

“He must believe he’s dying.” She found Marron’s fur of sudden interest. “He’s asking me to spirit walk with him, to anchor his soul and prevent it from being called.”

The pulse I thought I’d calmed jolted with fresh alarm. “He’s not dying.”

“I will do my best to prevent it, Maven, if you allow me to try.”

I had no alternative. Rhys had made his choice. “What will you do?”

“With your blessing, I will administer dayflower oil to Rhys.” She spoke with reverence that chilled me. “It’s a final resort for those who are beyond all other avenues of hope. It eases the body’s suffering until the spirit heals…or passes on.”

“What does anchoring entail?”

“In cases such as this, the walker ingests a single drop of dayflower oil, which allows them communion with the spirit world. While the afflicted body sleeps, the walker anchors the ailing spirit until it is healed or it is called.” Her tone softened. “The strain on both the walker and the spirit is great, and sometimes the spirit is called no matter how determined it is to remain.”

Henri’s herb lore haunted me now. “What will happen to him, exactly?”

“Perhaps I’ve explained this the wrong way.” Her face scrunched. “You are familiar with herbology?” I nodded that I was. “Essential oil extracted from dayflowers is a calmative. The correct dosage will decrease Rhys’s pulse, which will impede the spread of the venom through his system. He will remain unconscious until the oil is flushed from his body.”

The tense knot in my chest uncoiled. This I could rely on. This made sense to me. I grabbed hold of the familiar and let her words ground me. “Will he be in pain?”

“No worse than he is now. He may panic if he regains awareness and realizes he’s lost mobility, but it is unlikely, and he won’t be able to harm himself.” She stroked my back. “I won’t lie to you, Maven, this is a last resort for the dying, and the oil can kill him as easily as the venom.”

“What about antivenin?” It was the safest course of action. “I have the venom from his attacker. Can’t you—?”

“Your way is not our way.” She spoke firmly. “As Rhys said, we believe that in healing the spirit, the body will also mend. While he rests, I will remain with him, in the in-between, and do my best to revive him.”

I braced my cheek against Rhys’s thigh as my mind whirred with possible outcomes, few of them good.

A sharp grunt brought my head up. Vaughn’s feet hit the ground before Noir slowed, and he jogged toward us. “Step aside.” He did what we’d been unable to manage, lifting Rhys from the saddle and setting his feet on the ground. Rhys’s knees buckled, and Vaughn toppled trying to catch him. “Bring a blanket—something. He can rest here as easy as anywhere.”

Mana rushed inside and returned with a pillow and quilt. Together, we arranged Rhys so he would be comfortable. Determination had kept him slumped in the saddle long enough to reach Beltania, but now he relaxed into his makeshift bed with a sigh.

It sounded far too much like acceptance.

“Mana.” I said her name slowly, giving my mind time to catch up to my heart. “What you said—the dayflower oil—use it.”

“Are you sure—?”

I snapped, “Do whatever it takes to save him. Any chance, no matter how slim, is better than what he has now.”

She nodded and scurried inside, I assumed, to gather supplies. I sank to the ground beside Rhys and cradled his hand over my heart. I jumped when Vaughn touched my shoulder.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

I rocked in place and spoke the words thundering in my chest. “This is what he wanted.” I glanced up at Vaughn, hoping for understanding or absolution, I’m not sure which. “I don’t know what else to do.”

His fingers dug into my skin. “Then we’ll trust his judgment.”

We fell silent, waiting. There was nothing left to say.

Shuffling steps announced Old Father’s arrival. Mana ushered him forward, careful to avoid tripping over his walking stick. A worn leather roll was tucked under one of her arms, and a collection of battered tins gleamed in her hand.

She knelt by Rhys’s head and unrolled her supplies. After a cursory check of his vital signs, she began arranging her implements. Withdrawing a small crystal, she fisted it in her hand and closed her eyes. I watched for signs her actions affected Rhys’s condition, but saw none.

“You look lost.” Old Father stood close enough his leg brushed my arm.

“I am lost.” I stared up at him. “I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.”

His nod was sympathetic. “Do you have the venom of the one who poisoned him?”

My eyes cut to Marron, to my saddlebag. “I do, but Mana said—”

“Did you not wonder that Hoya asked for his soul to be anchored?” His tone was conversational. “For spirits, walkers bridge the gap between this world and the next. We heal. We offer council, though his spirit requires no such mediation.” His fingers brushed my shoulder. “He was asking Mana to anchor a willing spirit to a failing body…long enough to reach your physician.”

I forced the words past reluctant lips. “I thought he believes as you do.”

“Hoya is a child of two worlds.” His tone gentled. “His beliefs walk a line neither of us fully understands, that perhaps he himself doesn’t understand.” He cocked his head, considering. “Whose idea was it to collect the venom?”

My gaze sought his. “Vaughn’s.”

“And did Hoya hear his request?”

“Yes,” I answered slowly.

“Did he object?”

“No.” I recalled how those events unfolded. “He told me to do as Vaughn asked.”

“Then you see the decision eating you alive was made by Rhys the instant he realized what being poisoned meant. He chose in that moment to make use of the best medicine from both his worlds.” He patted my cheek. “His spirit will fight to remain with you, and Mana will aid in his battle as best she can from the in-between. She will buy you time for him to be treated by your physician. After that, it’s in the hands of the two gods.”

“Thank you for that.” His assurance made it easier for me to breathe.

“Mana is ready to begin.” Old Father braced his hand on my shoulder. “Prepare yourself.”

I nodded while Mana plucked a warped tin from her lot. She unscrewed the cap and dipped her finger inside, rubbing a clear liquid between her fingers as if checking its consistency. She licked one finger clean, and her pupils dilated until black swallowed the green of her eyes. A shudder rippled through her as she pried Rhys’s lips apart and poured the contents of the tin into his mouth, massaging his throat to ensure he swallowed.

“It is done.” Her voice was a bare whisper, her eyelids lowering again. The crystal cut into her palm, and her fist whitened from the strength of her grip.

“He will sleep now,” Old Father said.

Stroking Rhys’s brow, I stilled my hand upon his cheek. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Remain close to him.” He placed his palm over my heart. “Spirits commune. Let his know you’re here, and that you’re waiting for him. There is no better enticement. If he can return to you, he will.” He smiled for my benefit. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

Vaughn appraised the situation. “Rhys can’t travel like this.”

Old Father lifted a hand, and a young male I didn’t recognize stepped from the same doorway where I’d first seen Mana. “Wishövi, go with Vaughn. Prepare a litter for your cousin and gather enough supplies to last them on their journey.” He waved toward the road. “Go on.”

Wishövi took off at a sprint.

I touched Old Father’s arm. “Thank you.”

He shrugged off my gratitude. “You can’t afford to stop and hunt, and you can’t trust what you find on the road is safe to eat.”

I couldn’t argue with those sentiments.

Vaughn patted Noir’s flank on his way past her, then mounted Marron and led Brun after Wishövi. While I waited with Old Father, my gaze kept sliding toward Mana, who sat serene and unbothered by the commotion.

“Is Mana all right?” She hadn’t moved or spoken since her announcement. When Old Father straightened, I bent to stroke Rhys’s cheek. Snatching my hand back, I was shocked by the sudden chill of his skin. “Should he be so cold?”

“They are both fine. It is as it should be.” Old Father rested a hand on Mana’s shoulder. “You must guard them well. Their bodies are defenseless while their spirits are away.”