NO ONE ATE THAT day, or the day after that. The river refused to give after Connor's visit, and Kit didn't doubt it was him that caused it. He didn't know how, but it couldn't have been a coincidence that they so suddenly didn't have a single way to eat anymore.
They departed from the river after the battle. Their travels took them West instead, still to heaven knows where, while they thought of a solution for Giselle. They were weary and malnourished, and Kit's lips were peeling from dehydration. The most they found were a few stalks of wild grain.
"We're not going to be able to last long out here," Selene said when they stopped for a break in a dense forest. "We still can't find food."
"And I need to be with my people," Giselle added. "I'm beginning to wonder if I should just take the risk."
"No," Selene and Morgana said in unison.
The princess frowned. "I know it won't be easy, but we need to eat and Connor will just keep looking for us as long as we're up here. He will keep growing his power until he can win. Besides... maybe Faerie can give us more information on the Grail."
"Well, considering our only evidence was burned, I suppose any start is better than nothing," Morgana grumbled.
"Eurion did the right thing," Kit snapped back. "It's better that we remember what we can as long as Connor doesn't get those pages."
Morgana looked at Eurion. "How much did you remember?"
The thief shrugged. "Some of it."
"Great."
"Listen," Giselle cut in before another argument could break out. "I don't think we'll find a solution here anyways. We need to find it in Faerie, and we'll have to go there to do that. This whole search for something up here has been pointless and we know it."
It went quiet. Even Selene and Morgana weren't going to protest, because they all knew she was right.
"Astyr," the princess continued. "How is it spread?"
"Giselle, you're not really--"
"Selene." Her eyes were steady on the Lady, effectively silencing her before she turned her attention back to Morgana's mother.
The Autumn faery nodded and pulled a small leather book from her satchel. It was covered in quickly-scrawled notes and diagrams, likely her observations of the illness.
"I'm led to believe it's spread through direct contact," she said. "But I think it could be spread through the air as well. If we find a way to keep you shielded, it might protect you so long as you isolate."
"We can save a few of my remedies as well," Morgana offered. "Worst case scenario... we can at least help her."
Selene's arms were crossed over her chest, but Kit could see her fists curled beneath them, tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Morgana didn't look much better, tugging on the broken chains of his cuffs.
Kit tried not to let it bother him that he was free again, there were other things more urgent than that now. It still didn't stop the nagging in the back of his mind, though.
Giselle looked just as afraid as all the others, but she kept her chin up. "I'll need gloves, then. If I stay far from anyone else, the air won't be an issue."
It was all confusing to Kit. His own people knew very little of illnesses and how they spread, but the Fair Folk had been around long enough to have information far beyond his human comprehension. He settled for doing what the faeries told him to.
"I've got a pair," said Astyr, slipping a pair of long gloves from her satchel. She'd been prepared thus far, Kit shouldn't have been shocked when she had what they needed on hand once again.
The princess took them with a trembling hand and slid them on. This was a risk none of them wanted to take, but it was a necessary one. They had to take a lot of risks lately, this would be no different.
But why did it have to be Giselle?
"It'll be okay," she whispered, examining the gloves and their perfect fit. "We'll figure this out. We always do."
* * *
The Faerie Fever. That's what Astyr called it when she first arrived. It starts out as a mild illness--high temperature, sore throat, dry mouth. But the dry would never go away. Humans needed water to survive, but the Sídhe were closer to nature than that. They needed water even more, and the disease rejected it.
It started with sweat. They would sit there in pools of it until their body had no water left. Every time they drank more, it would come back out somehow. The next stage was tears. Rivers of tears to push out all the moisture. The Fever forced a faery's body to reject the thing needed to sustain life--their bodies killed themselves like prisoners refusing food.
At the worst of it, the skin cracked. For Morgana, he was left with scars. But for everyone else, it progressed too fast to stop, and it cracked them apart until they shattered completely.
Kit couldn't get it, and still, he was afraid. Clearly, so was everyone else.
The Vernal Palace was dreary. Plants were wilted and gates were shut and spiked, denying the entrance of any outsiders. The skies, once blue and sunny, were now overcast and sad. Rain was the sadder side of spring no one wanted to think about, but it was still there, and the Vernal Court was weeping.
"We have the Princess," Selene said as she approached the gates. "We request access."
"There are two outsider Sídhe among you," the guard replied. "The rest may enter, but the Unseelies must stay out."
Morgana motioned to his face. "I've had it before, I'm immune, as is my mother."
"We just got here from the human realm," Giselle continued. "Astyr is the only one who's been here since the start of this but she can't get it."
The guard considered this. "Very well," he murmured. "No one else may enter after this, no exceptions."
Giselle curtsied. "Thank you," she said when the gates opened, hinges groaning with the weight of the iron.
"You lot sure do enjoy iron considering you're allergic," Kit muttered, eyes scanning the tall gates as he passed. He heard Morgana laugh at his side, which took him by surprise.
The Queen was already rushing to greet her daughter, meeting them halfway across the bridge. She paid no mind to precautions, sweeping the princess up into her arms.
"I've been so worried," she murmured into Giselle's lilac curls. "Never go to war without my knowledge again, please. How did you survive?"
"Mab," Giselle told her.
The Queen stiffened and pulled back, brows knitting in disbelief. "The Unseelie Queen? She helped you?"
"She saved us, mother, I don't know how we would've made it out without her." Giselle took her hands. "How are things here? Are we alright?"
"No one here is sick," she said. "We're not letting anyone in or out, and we aren't accepting gifts or trades. This disease is vicious, child."
Her eyes settled on Morgana, and everyone else's followed. The Unseelie didn't cower under their gazes like Kit expected, he just looked sorrowful.
"He can't get it, mother," Giselle assured. "And he hasn't been here since this began, so--"
"I know, darling, he's alright," the Queen assured. She pulled away from Giselle to trace her fingers over Morgana's cheek. The faery hardly flinched. "Perhaps you are the key to figuring this out."
That was what made Morgana blush, as much as he could, at least. He stared down at his feet like they might've held the secrets of the universe.
"Speaking of," she went on. "I haven't seen you with that cane in awhile. Have you gotten better?"
Morgana looked up again. Kit forgot about that, the cane the Unseelie used a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, it disappeared.
This took Morgana by surprise as well. "I don't always have it, and I guess I've had enough people to lean on lately. It's easier to be without it."
The Queen brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "I'm glad. If you ever need a little extra support, my craftsman won't be going anywhere."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said with a diplomatic nod. "I appreciate your kindness."
"Of course," she told him. "It isn't kindness, though. It's payment."
The confusion barely registered on Morgana's face when a crowd of guards approached. The Queen stepped away, giving the men room to apprehend Morgana and Astyr.
"No," Morgana growled. He stared at Kit, and he felt his blood run cold. "Did you do this? Was this you?"
It was hard to find words. "No, Morgana, I swear this wasn't me! Your Majesty, they didn't do anything wrong!"
Giselle was fighting against more guards, trying desperately to get to Morgana, who fought tooth and nail against them. Astyr was still, but she didn't look any happier about it.
"Mother, please! Let him go!"
The Queen set her jaw in her best attempt to look composed. "I'm sorry, my darling," she whispered to her weeping child. "It's for the best."
Giselle didn't stop fighting until the two were gone and the guards let her fall to the ground in tears.
Selene's eyes were glassy and Kit could see the rage in her stance, but she was holding back. Eurion and Lionel looked afraid, but they weren't the confrontational type in the first place. This was up to Kit.
"Your Majesty," he began, trying to keep his voice steady. "We've already told you, they can't get it. They can't spread it, they don't. Have it. Let them out."
"This is coming from the man who was insistent upon the incarceration of that very Unseelie last you were here," the Queen said, looking down her nose at him. "This is not about them spreading it."
"Then what is this?" he asked, trying not to lose his cool. But Giselle in a heap of tears wasn't helping him at all. "Look, I don't trust him, but I trust Giselle, and I trust Astyr, and that is not an easy thing for me to come by anymore. There is no reason to lock him and his mother up."
"The woman is not being locked up. She is an asset and we need her help, but she is an Unseelie and we are obligated to keep an eye on her. I assure you, she is being well accommodated."
Kit swallowed back his anger. "Then what the hell are you doing to Morgana?"
"He has had the disease," she told him, voice far more composed than his. "We want to see how he got better. Maybe we can help the others."
That was the last he could tolerate. "You're experimenting on him?" he cried, lunging towards her. Selene caught him, and several guards raised their swords, but that didn't stop his fury. "That's fucking inhumane, you're not going to find a solution by cutting him open."
"I would never do that to my daughter, Kristofer," the Queen spat. "This isn't torture, this is research. We have far kinder methods than your own barbaric people. It won't be painless, but your precious Unseelie will be fine."
"Well you didn't have to lock him up!"
"You have no right to decide how we handle this, you are not in charge here. You'd do best to remember that."
"Yeah, but I have every right to be angry."
The Queen set her jaw. She was done with him. "Take him out of here," she ordered.
Guards flocked around him, but Selene shoved them away and took his arms instead. "I can handle him," the Lady growled.
He was escorted from the scene, but the others weren't far behind. Even Giselle didn't bother to stick with her mother.
She took them to her own room this time, as opposed to the medical bay where they stayed before. There were empty servants quarters through a small hallway, and the others got comfortable there. Selene, obviously, stayed with Giselle.
It was homey and spacious in the servants quarters, a soft bed for the three of them that remained. Kit cleaned himself off, changing into something Giselle gave him, and tucked himself beneath the silky sheets.
He thought it might feel nice, but the feather bed and sweet, flowery smells felt foreign to him now. They were too calm, too kind, too quiet. All he could think about now were the bruises on his feet and the blisters on his palms and the aching in his muscles that he never noticed when he was laying on the cold, hard ground, because he never had relief to compare it to.
Everything was louder in the silence. The noise in his head was becoming unbearable, and even after several hours of trying to sleep, rest never came. There was only one place he knew he could go.
He stood silently from his bed, careful not to wake the others, and slipped out of the room. He made his way down the hall, heading for the one room in the Palace that he knew all too well.