Estelle opened her eyes wearily. It took a moment for her vision to clear. When it did, she was staring up at the roof of a cave. Her head was propped up by something. Her injured ankle was wrapped tightly and raised as well. Her boot lay nearby.
Estelle felt around her stomach and chest. There were holes in her leathers, but she couldn't feel her wounds. She unbuckled her leathers partially and was surprised to see that most of her wounds were wrapped by fabric. Some of them were uncovered but smeared with tree sap.
Her fingers brushed against two necklaces. With a start, Estelle held them up. Both of her necklaces were there, the gift from Mikael and her family pendant. She shifted her wings beneath herself and was surprised when she didn't feel the chains digging into them. She looked down and saw that the chains had been wrapped in thin cloth as well, acting as a barrier between them and her wings.
Estelle craned her head to one side. Tears welled up in her eyes. Mikael was standing in the mouth of the cave, staring outside. He hadn't noticed she was awake yet. Several of her shadows were woven around the ashwood chains that bound his beautiful feathered wings. He was covered in dirt and blood, but he seemed to be all right. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. He was all right. Mikael was all right. He'd found her. He was here. He was with her.
Mikael glanced over his shoulder. His breath caught and he ran to her. Estelle sobbed as he pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair and pressing frantic kisses to her cheek and temple. "Are you all right?" He asked breathlessly. "Am I hurting you?" He loosened his hold at once. Estelle hugged him harder. She was shaking again. "It's all right," Mikael murmured. "It's all right."
"You're here," Estelle rasped. "I thought you'd be on the other side of the mountain. I thought I wouldn't have a remote chance of finding you before I reached the summit. You're here."
"I'm here. I'm here, Love." Mikael leaned his head back, lips moving in a silent prayer. "I'm here."
They clung to each other tightly. Estelle closed her eyes, burying her face in Mikael's neck. She breathed in his warm comforting scent and threaded her fingers through the ends of his hair.
"Are you hurt?" She asked after a moment.
"Just a few injuries from a wolf that attacked me. There were two Illyrians who attacked me as well. I..." Mikael hesitated. "I killed them."
Estelle drew back, meeting his gaze. "That was your first time, wasn't it?" Mikael nodded, lowering his eyes, but not before she saw the guilt that filled them. Estelle tipped his chin up and brushed her lips across his. "The first time is always the hardest. The guilt you feel is terrible. Suffocating. Killing someone never gets easier, but you won't feel the guilt as sharply as you do the first time."
"I feel like I killed them for nothing," Mikael admitted. "Their lives were taken pointlessly."
"Mikael, we are in a kill or be killed situation. If you hadn't killed them, they would've killed you." She cupped his face in her hands and pressed their foreheads together. "You did what you had to in order to survive. Their deaths may seem pointless, but they weren't. It's hard, I know, but don't let the guilt of what you've done cripple you now."
Mikael closed his eyes with a small nod. "I'm trying. But if we ever need an executioner when I'm High Lord, I'll just let you deal with it."
"High Lady Estelle Anik, part time executioner," Estelle chuckled. "It has a nice ring to it." She shivered slightly and leaned into Mikael. "It's cold tonight."
Mikael pursed his lips. "It is, but that's not the only reason why you're cold." He touched his knuckles to her forehead. "I noticed you were running a fever while I patched up your wounds."
"I feel fine. A little sore, but mostly fine."
"For now. You won't feel so fine if your fever worsens. I think it was caused by the ashwood digging into your wings. The wood was in contact with your blood long enough that it began to affect you. I hope it's only going to be a mild reaction, like allergies or a slight infection, and you'll burn through it quickly, but if it's not..."
"We need to find a way out of here," Estelle finished. "So you have access to your healing magic." Mikael nodded. "The only way out of the Rite before it ends is to reach the monolith. We don't have very long to make it there."
"We'll set a hard pace and cover as much ground as we can before anything else happens."
Mikael pulled a bundle out from behind her. It was the object her head had been resting on. She was surprised to see that it was a large portion of a wolf skin. Mikael spread it out so that it covered the cold ground and motioned for Estelle to sit on it. She complied and lay down shortly. Mikael leaned over her, rubbing gentle circles on her back.
"My ankle will slow us down," Estelle sighed.
"I did what I could. The swelling should go down soon and you'll be able to put more pressure on it. I'll help you until then, and every step after." Mikael smoothed stray curls from her forehead. "Get some sleep. We'll leave before sunrise." He kissed her temple and sprawled out on the stone.
Estelle gripped one of his hands tightly, a lump forming in her throat. She was half afraid that if she fell asleep, he would disappear. Mikael brushed his thumb over her knuckles and scooted over to her. He moved one hand to the back of her neck, drawing her face closer to his. Estelle kissed the tattoo on his inner wrist, then held his knuckles to her lips.
"Promise you'll be here when I wake up," she whispered. "I'm afraid this was just a dream."
"I'll be here," Mikael replied. "I promise." Estelle's eyes drifted shut, despite herself. Mikael didn't pull away. "I'll be here," he murmured. "I'll always be here."
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Estelle was shivering when they left the cave the next morning, before the sun had even risen. Mikael had checked her wounds this morning. None of them were infected thankfully, but her fever had risen. They had to make as much progress as possible today.
It was the fifth day of the Rite. They had only two days left after this one. Either they reached the monolith and got off of Ramiel themselves, or they waited until the Rite ended. Mikael wasn't certain how long Estelle would last if her fever grew worse. Depending on how much ashwood was in her system, it could affect her like poison. He wasn't keen on watching his mate die slowly in front of him.
Estelle stumbled with a yelp. Mikael caught her before she could fall. He helped her up and kept an arm around her as they carried on. "Those creatures that were attacking you..." Mikael began. "Someone like them took you the night the Rite began. I'm willing to bet they brought me here too. The other Illyrians have been calling them living corpses."
"That's exactly what they are," Estelle replied through gritted teeth. "Ze'ev is here and those things are his creations. He can reanimate those he's killed."
"What?"
"He's found me a few times and talked to me. I don't know how he learned to do all of this, but somehow, he has. He has five black siphons. He can control the dead. He has this terrible unnatural power that isn't even remotely affected by the wards over Ramiel. And he looks half dead himself. Whatever he's doing is killing him. I noticed that he coughs up blood when we were talking."
Mikael narrowed his eyes. "I've found mentions of something like this in the books that Amren helped Nyx choose for me. It's a form of Black Magic. Specifically called necromancy. Ze'ev must be using a form of it. The more he uses that power, the worse it affects him."
"How is that possible? Illyrian magic is powerful, but we can't use it to raise the dead or control them. The only things I've heard of that can do that are the Mask and the Amulet of the Dread Trove. And, the Amulet brings the dead back to life. It doesn't just reanimate a corpse."
"Anyone can learn to cast a spell," Mikael corrected. "And that's why necromancy is having such a terrible effect on Ze'ev. He's not using his own magic. He's using spells to grant himself power over the dead. Those spells feed on his energy. On his body. They're like parasites. Using those kinds of spells doesn't help you. It destroys you. They're unnatural. Our bodies weren't made to withstand them."
"Where would Ze'ev learn something like that?"
"I don't know. He either found a spell book and was smart enough to figure it out for himself, or he found a mentor."
Estelle shivered again and a few of her shadows drifted over her neck. Her eyes had developed a glassy shine. Mikael watched her worriedly. He glanced ahead, gauging the distance they had left to travel. The summit of Ramiel was in view. Judging from the look of things, there was a pass they'd have to go through before they reached the monolith. If they kept a brisk pace, they might reach it by the middle of the sixth day. Possibly earlier.
"Ze'ev is planning to kill us," Estelle murmured. She had followed his gaze up towards the peak.
"That pass is a good place to try," Mikael replied. "We'll only have two ways to go. He'll have his creatures surround us." He furrowed his brows, thinking.
"Do you have an idea?"
He nodded. "I think so. The pass is a straight shot to the summit. Ze'ev will expect us to take it, so we won't." Estelle raised an eyebrow. "We'll follow the ridge at the top of the pass. Ze'ev will probably still try to attack us, and we'll make slower progress, but at least we won't be trapped in the gorge."
"All right," she replied. "Let's move faster."
"Are you sure?" Already, Estelle's features were taut with pain. She nodded and merely tightened her arm around him. Mikael increased their pace and half supported, but mostly carried, Estelle along with him.