Shadow Heir

“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 strong. You and Roland are probably the greatest men I know, and I want you both around to help Isaac and Ivy—especially Isaac. He’ll need good role models.”