Shadow Heir

looking pretty ratty. I appreciated the zealous initiative, though. Both Keeli and I had been too busy to bother with our hair.

“I doubt they’ll be back,” I said. “They did what they intended. Got revenge on men and took out strangers to their land at the same time.”

This was merely met with nods. We were all too disheartened to make much conversation and simply ate in silence as night fell. The hum of the forest made a background of white noise I hardly even noticed anymore, which was why it was so startling when a voice spoke out of the shadows.

“You are not going to replace me with that pretty boy Davin.”

I nearly choked on my berries. Hastily swallowing, I spun around to look at Rurik. He was still sitting but no longer in a frozen, blank way. He was shifting, working the kinks out of his arms as he blinked the world into focus.

“Rurik!” I ran over and knelt before him, Keeli and Jasmine right behind me. “Rurik, are you okay?”

He started to speak, and then a grimace came over his face. Turning, he spat onto the ground. “What was in my mouth?”

“A necessary evil,” I said, grinning like a fool. “Oh my God. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“I hear that a lot from women,” he said, wincing as he shrugged his undoubtedly stiff shoulders.

“Do you remember anything?” asked Jasmine. “From this morning?”

“I remember ...” He frowned and suddenly looked confused. “Those women ... the green-haired women. I remember them coming to us, and then ... I don’t know. It was like I was in a tunnel, and there were voices coming to me from a long ways away.” He glanced at the three of us. “Your voices.”

I was so happy that I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “This is the best news ever. Now that we know the enchantment can be broken, we can get the others out of it too.”

“The others ...” Rurik looked around him and noticed his fellow men. The sun was nearly gone, but our campfire clearly illuminated the statuelike quality of the others. Rurik jumped to his feet with amazing speed for someone who’d been catatonic all day. “What the—? My lord! My lord, what’s wrong?”

He flew to Dorian’s side with a devotion that almost brought tears to my eyes. Much as we’d first tried, Rurik began shaking Dorian in an effort to wake him up.

“It won’t work,” I said.

Rurik turned to me, and I think it was the most scared I’d ever seen him. “What’s wrong with him? With them?”

We explained, and Rurik wanted to waste no time in helping. I urged him to take a moment to recover from his ordeal, but he’d hear nothing of it. His energy and awakening inspired the rest of us, and we continued our efforts with new vigor.

And miraculously, over the next couple hours, the men began to wake up one by one. Blessedly, only Danil got sick from the mistletoe, and it was hardly “fantastically ill.” Like Rurik, all the men were eager to help, and before long, we had everyone restored to their original states—except Dorian.

“Why won’t he wake up?” I asked. The flickering firelight cast weird shadows on his face. “Volusian said it was tied to strength and will. Dorian’s probably the strongest person I know.”

Alistir frowned as he sipped water from a skin. “I seem to recall ... I feel like there were two of those dryads with him?” There was uncertainty in his words, but they sparked a memory.

“You’re right,” I said. “There were two with him when we approached. Would that do it? Two dryads—double the power?”

“Makes sense,” said Keeli. “Especially if they tagged him as the strongest.”

“Then we’ll have to work twice as hard,” said Rurik, feeling no shame at just having been declared second best. He finished off a banana. All of the men had been starving and thirsty. “I’ll talk to him now.”

Rurik jumped to it with zeal, and others followed in shifts. As midnight came around, the effort faded a little, mostly from exhaustion. Watches were set, and the rest of my companions began settling down for sleep. Keeli and Jasmine had offered to take the first watch. They were tired but still felt the men needed some true rest. Kiyo stopped me when I passed where he’d spread out his blanket.

“If he’s not better by morning, we’re going to have to make some hard decisions.” Kiyo nodded toward where Dorian sat straight and still.

It took me a moment to follow. “What? No. We’re not leaving until he’s better.”

“But what if he’s not? You’ve been trying all day.”

“He was hit twice as much as the rest of you! He just needs longer to recover,” I said, working hard not to shout.

“Or, he may not recover at all,” said Kiyo ominously. “Depending on how strong the magic is. What then? How long do we wait here?”

“As long as it takes! We have plenty of food.”

Kiyo sighed. “But again—what if he simply isn’t going to wake up? How much time do we waste? Every day means others suffer in the blight.”

“We can’t leave him,” I said stubbornly. “I know you don’t like him, but this isn’t negotiable.”

Irritation crossed Kiyo’s features. “My personal feelings have nothing to do with this! He’s a huge asset on this trip. I don’t want to go to the Yew Land without him. But I don’t want to waste valuable time either.” Kiyo rested a hand on my arm. “Eugenie, please. Just think reasonably.”

I jerked away. Whenever he talked about me being reasonable, it usually involved harm to my children.

“Dorian’s going to get better,” I said. “Just wait until morning. You’ll see.”

“Yes,” Kiyo said grimly. “I will.”

I stormed off to where Dorian sat and managed to get him upright. I walked him a little ways from where the others were sleeping and tried to ignore that he moved much more stiffly than he had earlier. Once I was satisfied we were still within safety but wouldn’t interrupt anyone’s sleep with talking, I settled him back down in the grass. After a moment’s thought, I laid him down and curled up by his side. His green eyes looked dark in the poor lighting and stared up at the stars without seeing them.

“Don’t leave me with him,” I whispered fiercely. “Don’t leave me alone. You’re the only one who really understands me in all of this, and I know Kiyo’s wrong. You’re going to get better. We need you too much. I need you.”

I nearly started in on the same spiel I had before, about how we couldn’t pull this mission off without Dorian’s skills. Then, I reconsidered. I’d been going on with that song and dance all day—and it had had no effect. You must give them a reason to come back.

“I’m sorry,” I said, still keeping my voice low so that only Dorian could hear. And I was certain he could. He had to. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very nice to you ... for a while. You’ve done a lot for me—probably more than anyone else—and I threw a lot of it back at you. That was wrong. I mean, I don’t agree with the philosophy of the Iron Crown—you know I don’t—but I understand why you did it. And I know it wasn’t done to be manipulative. Not intentionally, anyway. I know how you are. You need to get things accomplished, and when you see the most efficient way, you do it. It’s why you’re such a great leader. It’s why people will follow you anywhere.”

No response, of course. I felt tears spill out of my eyes and was again overcome with the wrongness of this. Things like this didn’t happen to Dorian. Others, maybe. But not him.

I rested my cheek against his arm. “You’re the only one who asked, you know. About the twins. And leaving them. I miss them, Dorian. I miss them so much. All the time we’ve spent trudging down this miserable road, lying out in the cold ... they’re always on my mind. What are they doing? Are they okay? I keep wondering if they’re out of the NICU. I hope so—and it’s not just because it means they’re better. I don’t want them spending any more time than they have to with machines. They need people and love. And the people I left them with? They’re wonderful. They’ll be good to Isaac and Ivy, but still ... I wish I could be there with them.”

It occurred to me I was doing therapy more for myself than him. Yawning, I tried to get back on track. “I want you to meet them. I don’t know if I can ever bring them to the Otherworld, but maybe we can find a way to get you to them. We both know their father’s useless, but I want them to have men in their lives who are good and