Back in Glitnir, I could go days, weeks, sometimes even months without hearing those screams, but ever since I’d come to Blauberg, they had been bubbling up in my mind like hungry krakens rising to the surface of the sea, eager to wrap their tentacles around my internal ship and drag it—and me—down under the choppy waves.
The sight and stench of Leonidas’s blood made it more difficult than usual, but I managed to shove those krakens back down into the murky deep of my mind.
First, I used a soft cloth and some warm water to thoroughly clean the wound. Then I opened a bottle of witch hazel and poured it into the gash to help lower the risk of infection. While I waited for the witch hazel to dry, I grabbed a jar filled with cucumber-ginger ointment made by Helene Blume, a family friend and powerful plant magier.
Helene was best known for the luxe beauty creams, lotions, and perfumes she sold to wealthy nobles, but she also crafted healing salves, balms, and ointments. Before I had left Glitnir, Helene had given me her latest experimental formula. I just hoped it worked as well as she claimed.
I opened the jar and dipped my fingers into the sticky ointment. A bright tang of ginger flooded my nose, along with softer, more soothing notes of cool cucumber. Just sniffing it made me feel better, and the strong scent also cleansed the coppery stench of blood from the air.
I slathered the ointment all over Leonidas’s wounds. My rubbing activated Helene’s magic, and my fingers started tingling as the hidden power sparked to life. The thick coating seeped into Leonidas’s skin, and the ointment quickly changed colors, going from a pale, almost translucent green to a darker, more vibrant forest-green. The bruises faded away, and the jagged edges of his wound slowly closed, as though the ointment were full of tiny vines that were stitching his torn flesh back together the way it should be.
A minute later, the last of the ointment vanished into Leonidas’s skin, and Helene’s magic faded away. The wound had closed, although a large, raised, ugly pink stain remained on his chest. He wasn’t completely healed, but he wouldn’t bleed to death now.
Tap.
Tap-tap.
Tap-tap-tap.
Lyra pecked on the glass again, so I went over and opened the window. The strix stuck her head inside, and I had to jerk back to keep from getting stabbed by her razor-sharp beak. Behind her, Grimley let out a low, warning growl, but I shook my head, telling him to stand down. Lyra hadn’t been trying to hurt me. She was just worried.
“Will Leo be okay?” she chirped.
“The ointment closed his wound. We’ll just have to wait and see how he feels when he wakes up.”
If he wakes up. I didn’t voice my thought, though. I didn’t want to further upset the strix, especially not when her beak was still dangerously close to my heart.
In the distance, lightning flashed, and thunder rolled, like an ominous trumpet heralding the purple-gray storm clouds drifting in this direction. I’d told Penelope that I would bring the wheelbarrow back to the mine, but I wouldn’t be able to beat the storm there. My absence would probably make Conley suspicious, but I’d rather face his wrath than the unpredictable mountain weather.
My gaze flicked back over to the prince. Besides, I couldn’t leave him alone. I knew better than to trust Leonidas Morricone, even when he was unconscious.
I looked at Lyra again. “You need to find a place to hide. The gargoyles will return to the city because of the storm, and they won’t like you being here.”
Lyra fluffed out her feathers. “No. I will stay with Leo.”
Concern surged off her, but I shook my head. “You can’t do anything to help him, and the cottage isn’t big enough for you and Grimley to both be inside at once. It’s barely large enough for Grimley, and he’s always knocking something over with his tail.”
Lyra trilled out a laugh, while Grimley glowered at me.
“Besides,” I continued, “you’re no good to Leonidas if the gargoyles kill you.”
Lyra stabbed one of her wings at Grimley. “You stopped him. You could stop the others.”
She was wrong. The other gargoyles might roost on the city rooftops, but they were still wild creatures with minds and wills of their own. Some of my ancestors, like Queen Armina Ripley, had been able to communicate with legions of gargoyles, but I wasn’t that strong or skilled in my magic. Oh, I could mentally talk to two or three gargoyles at once, but I certainly couldn’t command a whole city of them, much less order them not to attack a strix in their midst.
“Grimley is my friend,” I replied. “That’s why he stopped for me, but I’m not friends with all the gargoyles. Leonidas will be safe here. I’ll put some more ointment on his wound, and maybe he’ll wake up by morning. But you need to find a place to hunker down before the storm arrives. Grimley will help you find a spot.”
“No,” he growled. “I will stay here with you.”
I shook my head again. “You need to stay with Lyra and make sure the other gargoyles don’t attack her. They might not listen to me, but they will definitely listen to you.”
Grimley might not be the biggest gargoyle, but he was certainly one of the fiercest. If anyone could keep Lyra safe, then it was him.
Please. I sent the thought to him. Wouldn’t you want some creature to do the same for you if you were in a strange land and I was hurt?
Grimley gave me another sour look, but he jerked his head at Lyra. “Come.”
The strix bristled at his commanding tone.
Grimley snorted. “Fine. Be stupid and stubborn. But don’t blame me if the other gargoyles pluck off all your pretty purple feathers and eat you.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “No one is eating me, least of all you.”
Grimley snorted again. “Why would I want to eat you? You’re nothing but fluff and bones. Hardly tasty at all.”
“The two of you squabbling doesn’t do anyone any good,” I said. “Now go. If Leonidas takes a turn for the worse, then I’ll summon Grimley.”
Lyra glanced back and forth between me and the gargoyle, and her amethyst eyes brightened with understanding. “Ah, she’s your human. That’s why you’re so protective of her.”
“Of course she’s my human.” Grimley’s chin lifted with pride. “And I will defend her to my death.”
“Just as I would my Leo,” Lyra chirped back.
The two creatures glared at each other again. Grimley’s tail lashed from side to side, while Lyra raked her talons across the ground. Several long, tense seconds slid by.
Grimley’s tail dropped, and he jerked his head. “Come. I know of a nearby cave where you will be safe and dry.” He paused. “There are lots of rabbits there too, if you are hungry.”
Lyra’s feathers ruffled again, but she seemed more intrigued than offended. “Oh, I love Andvarian rabbits! They’re so much more tender than the scrawny jackalopes we have in Morta . . .”
The strix kept extolling the virtues of plump, succulent Andvarian wildlife as she hopped into the woods with Grimley. Perhaps they wouldn’t kill each other after all.
I shut the window, then glanced over at Leonidas. Some color had returned to his face, and his breathing seemed much easier than before. Relief fluttered through my stomach, but I swatted it away. Any sympathy I felt for him was the same as I would feel for anyone who had been betrayed, attacked, and injured. Nothing more, nothing less.