Eileen is understandably shocked when we arrive at the shelter dirty and bloodied up, helping a barely conscious Tristan up the porch steps. I think, judging by the way her wide eyes flick back and forth between us, my appearance with Eve surprises her the most.
“Eileen,” I say. “You remember Tristan. And this is Eve . . . my sister.”
Her eyes stop on mine. “Sisters aren’t supposed to look exactly alike.”
Thanks to that old man’s curse, they don’t. “I’ll explain everything once we get Tristan to bed.” I owe her the truth, if we’re going to take up residence in what is now her home.
More than that, I’m thinking back to what she said the last time we saw each other. About considering me a friend. I didn’t realize how much I want to be open with her. I have little understanding of friendship, but honesty is important in one. This much I know.
The rest of the house is asleep, except for Royce, who wordlessly helps Eve escort Tristan upstairs into Daniel’s old room. Tristan falls onto the bed, groaning. He relaxes as he enters a deep sleep. As soon as he begins to snore lightly, Eve heads through another door and onto the balcony. I have a feeling she wants to be alone, so I leave her.
Eileen waits outside the girls’ room. “Will he be all right?” she whispers.
“Yes.” If Eve says she didn’t intend to kill him, then he’ll recover. She’s had enough experience dealing injury without killing a person. That’s the only upside to watching her toy with her prey. They’ve always lived as long as it suits her.
Eileen slips her arm into mine and pulls me away. “Come. We have a lot to catch up on.”
#
The following day, someone shakes me out of deep sleep. I roll over onto my back, moaning softly when the bruises and aches all over me return. I’m surprised to see Eileen standing over me. Light enters the room from the window, bouncing off the wall and casting a golden hue around her. Some of the girls around me are still asleep.
Her expression makes my stomach drop. “What is it?” I ask.
“It’s Tristan. His health has taken a turn for the worse.”
I flip the covers off and follow her to Daniel’s room. Tristan is still asleep, but he looks terrible. His face is pale and clammy, eerily lifeless.
Eve stands beside him. She clenches her hands into fists and unclenches them repeatedly. “This shouldn’t have happened,” she whispers.
I assume she realizes her mistake in injuring him, until she adds, “The injury shouldn’t have resulted in this. He shouldn’t be getting weaker.”
“Maybe you miscalculated,” I say softly. “Hopefully the healer will get here soon.”
She scowls at me. “You’re wrong, Bree. I know my own strength. I know he shouldn’t be like this.”
“Eve, there are things you can never account for. Like an infection.”
Sighing, she runs both hands through her hair. They drop limply at her sides. “I redid his bandages. The wound isn’t infected. Whatever this is, I didn’t do it to him.”
Eileen gives me a questioning look, like I’m supposed to know what Eve’s thinking. But I don’t. She doesn’t sound like she’s in denial. She sounds like she really believes her words.
“He’ll be fine,” I reassure her, hoping that I’m right.
Tristan’s condition worsens as time passes. He wakes at one point, bleary-eyed and panting, and vomits over the side of the bed.
My insides freeze at the sight of bright red blood. Eileen hurries back with a towel. I take it from her, giving her a weak smile of gratitude. She’s done so much for us already; I don’t want to burden her more than necessary.
“Why are you all in here?” Tristan slurs as I wipe sweat from his face. His eyes attempt to focus on mine, but they’re hazy with pain and deliria. “Where’s Lucan?”
“Lucan is dead,” Eve replies unhelpfully.
Frowning, he looks at her, then back at me. He laughs, wincing when it hurts. “Two Eve’s. I don’t know whether to consider that a blessing or a man’s worst nightmare.”
“You must not be on the verge of death if you’re in a mood to joke,” Eve says.
Tristan starts coughing. I’m helping him drink water when one of the young girls runs into the room. “Eileen! There’s a man here.”
The little girl’s eyes widen when they land on Tristan, but Eileen ushers her out of the room before she can get a look at Eve and me. “Hopefully that’s the Jaythi healer you were talking about,” she tosses back over her shoulder.
“We can’t let him see us both in here,” I say to Eve. “I’ll wait in the girls’ room.”
“No.” She turns to leave. “You stay.”
I see the look on her face as she brushes past me, one I haven’t witnessed yet. Guilt. Worry. Fear. Something slams into the wall moments later, a thud that sounds distinctly like a foot. She seems torn between wanting to hide and to fight.
Eileen returns with the healer. He’s short and slight, with a shaved head and sunken cheekbones. He wears a simple brown tunic and trousers that reach just above his ankles. There’s nothing about him that indicate this is a man with great power.
“This isn’t necessary,” Tristan protests as he nears him. “I’ve recovered from worse.”
“Lie down.” The healer’s accent is northern like ours. Jayth is Tristan’s homeland, too, and I wonder what he must be thinking, seeing a fellow Jaythi. He doesn’t look happy.
The man’s hands hover over his chest. “This will hurt for a moment.”
“I’ve been healed before,” Tristan mutters. “I can’t say it was the most pleasant thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Why were you healed?” I ask.
“My father paid for one the first few times, before he decided it was a waste of money since I didn’t stop trying to reclaim this body.”
His father paid for someone to heal Lucan after whipping Tristan. The more I discover about the man, the more he disgusts me. I can’t imagine people like that exist, so hateful to their children. People like my father.
A few days ago, I was upset when Tristan admitted he killed his father. I had no right to be. I did the same to save my life.
A bluish-white orb appears below the man’s hands. Tristan stiffens and his hands clutch at the blanket. I look away from his pain, at Eileen who stands frozen, watching the healer’s hands avidly. She reacted the same way last night when I shifted a cup into a bowl.
“You’re so lucky,” Eileen said to me then, awe in her blue eyes. A familiar mischievous grin crossed her face. “If I were you, I’d use this ability to torture people. Imagine Royce waking to find himself sleeping in a bed with legs taller than a person.”
Lucky has never defined me, but maybe I should take a lesson from her. Maybe what I am isn’t a curse. It can be a blessing, too, if I use it to help others.
The light finally fades and the man lowers his hands to his sides. He stares expectantly at Tristan. We all do. But Tristan doesn’t look any better. He groans and turns his head to the side, closing his eyes.
“Didn’t it work?” I ask.
“Of course it did,” the man says with a huff. “But it’s not the only injury he suffers.”
He throws off the covers, revealing more of Tristan’s torso. His hands move down to his abdomen. “The boy has been damaged on the inside. It looks like he has quite a few injuries all over, though none as serious as this one here.”
Internal damage? That means Eve was right. She never did this to him. Ashin must have done it, when he tortured him in the dungeons.
“Heal him,” I say.
The man glances at me, raising his prominent black eyebrows. “It will cost you.”
“You were paid to heal Tristan?”
“How else do you think I make a living?”
I dislike the entitled air about him. Tristan groans again, and I bury my frustrations with the healer. “How much do you want?”
“Eight gold pieces.”
“Eight?” Eileen asks in shock. “That’s preposterous. No one would pay that much!”
He chuckles. “Even a king will sell his kingdom to save his life.”
I know his kind. Opportunists. I’ve seen them all over Carnolay, preying on others. There’s no point in begging him. He’ll never heal Tristan free of cost. “We’ll pay whatever you want,” I say. “But we don’t have the gold here. Give us a few days to bring it to you.”
“And why should I trust you?”
“Because we know Master Ellis.” No need to clarify which Master Ellis. “I’m sure you trust him, since he’s the reason you’re here.”
I don’t expect Daniel to pay again for this man’s services. We’ll find a way to pay the man back, Eve and I. But until then, I have to make him believe he’ll get his money. The Ellis name is the only thing that might convince him to trust us.
He considers this for a moment, though I see the greed in his eyes. The prospect of getting his hands on more gold is greater than his reservations about walking away empty-handed. “Very well. I will hold you to your word.”
He turns to Tristan. The bright light appears again. Tristan makes a sound deep in his throat, like he’s fighting back a scream. I keep my eyes on his face this time, feeling a pang in my stomach every time it twists in agony.
The light finally disappears. Tristan closes his eyes, stark relief softening his features. When he reopens them, they’re bright with vitality and free of the pain clouding them. As his breathing evens, his lips quirk into a smile—no, a smirk. “I don’t suppose you’d heal the rest of my injuries, old man?”
“One gold piece for each.”
“We’re fine,” I say quickly, shooting Tristan a warning look. As long as he’s not on the verge of death anymore, I don’t intend to sink us further into debt. “Thank you for your help.”
The man grunts as he turns for the door. “Give me my gold and we’ll be even.”
He disappears without another word. Eileen follows him downstairs, and I hear her wishing him a good day as he leaves. I don’t hear a response.
Eve returns to the room, stopping at the doorway. “I told you I didn’t do anything to risk his life, Bree.” She turns to Tristan. “In fact, I just saved it again. If I hadn’t requested that healer, you might have been dead already.”
He throws his legs over the side of the bed and stands, approaching her with a smile. “Every time you speak about saving my life, I get the feeling you’re trying to hide the guilt you feel for hurting me in the first place. Doesn’t she sound guilty, Bree?”
She scowls at me, daring me to agree.
“I think she does,” I say, mostly because it annoys her. But also because I have a feeling he might be right. Eve isn’t as devoid of heart as she’d lead us to believe.
“Then you are a fool,” she says. “I simply don’t wish to hear you complain forever about how I mistreated—”
He interrupts her with a kiss. Eve stiffens in response. Initially at least. After a pause, she softens and leans into him, wrapping her arms around his back.
The kiss is shockingly intimate and I start to feel uncomfortable as it drags on. I’m about to leave when Tristan pulls back and murmurs, “You said you don’t want to hear me complain forever. It sounds like you don’t plan to leave my side, Eve.”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t see anger or annoyance on her face. It’s a start.
I leave the room quietly, wishing all things had gone so well today. Daniel promised he would be here by morning. He wouldn’t break his word, not without good reason.
Something must have happened.
I lean against the wall and exhale wearily. After everything we’ve been through, he can’t be in danger now. I need to believe he’s safe, for my own sake.
#
The rest of the day passes uneventfully. I hide out in Daniel’s locked bedroom and let Eve roam the house freely. No point in revealing myself to the children and risk having them question why there are two of us. Or worse, risk having them spread news of it to others.
Eve appreciates the sun more than I do. She spends most of her time in the backyard, staring at the bright world around her. The faded blue dress she wears flutters around her knees in the wind. There’s fragility despite her obvious strengths; the way she hugs herself against the breeze and shields her eyes as she squints up at the sun.
It’s hard to imagine her as anything but the unrelenting voice in my head for so many years, but in truth, she’s just a girl like me: lost and struggling to pave her way in a world she doesn’t understand.
The following morning, I join Eileen and Royce at the dining table. Eve and Tristan are still asleep in Daniel’s room. Eileen brings me up to date on everything that’s been happening at the shelter lately; the three children who joined and the one who left, the accomplishments and strives of all of them.
Affection gleams in her eyes when she speaks of the young ones, and I’m reminded of what she said. About wanting to start her life elsewhere.
“Do you still plan to leave the shelter?” I ask her.
She glances at Royce. “We’ll be here as long as Daniel needs us,” he says.
“Is that what you want?”
“I enjoy being here for the children,” Eileen replies. “There is no greater reward than saving a child from life on those tough streets. But it’s a difficult job. If something were to happen to Danny, we wouldn’t be able to afford the expenses. Daniel never stopped taking care of the shelter. Without him, we would all have nothing.”
“Then let’s pray he’s all right.”
She must read the anxiety in my voice because she smiles gently and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “Danny will be fine. I’m sure he’ll return to the shelter in no time.”
Her words prove right an hour later when a chorus of shouts erupts outside the house. I peer through the curtains. Daniel and Tobin make their way up the path to the house, surrounded by excited children. Tobin stops to talk with his friends. There’s a broad smile on his face. He looks like the mischievous little boy I’ve known for weeks.
I race outside and meet Daniel on the porch. He gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I’m almost afraid to ask what’s wrong, but I have to know. “What is it? Is Gregor all right?”
“He’s well and safe at his home. So is Celine. She has requested that you stop by her house sometime for tea and more shifting lessons.”
Even that doesn’t lift my spirits. It’s obvious something happened, and my mind is spinning with horrifying possibilities.
“Let’s go in the house,” he says.
My anxiety spreads like wildfire. Inside, he trades greetings with Eileen and Royce, who follow us upstairs after instructing one of the older girls to watch over the young ones.
“Wait here,” I say.
I open the door to Daniel’s old room and peek inside. Tristan and Eve are asleep on the bed, both fully dressed. I knock on the door anyway and call their names.
Tristan wakes first, and upon seeing me, shakes Eve. She lifts her head and peers at me with narrowed eyes, her hair a mess of dark locks around her face. “It’s not wise to disturb a Nightborn who’s not used to being up so early during the day.”
He smirks at her. “It took me a while to adjust, though I’d imagine Eve will be grumpier than I ever was.”
“I thought you two would be interested to know that Daniel is here,” I say. That perks them up. They roll out of bed as I open the door to let the others in.
“I think we require an easier way to tell you two apart other than your clothing,” Eileen says as she enters.
“And the permanent frown on Eve’s face?” Tristan teases, earning him a smack on the arm from her.
Eileen laughs. “You would look lovely with shorter hair, Eve.”
“Maybe,” she replies, but it’s clear the idea holds appeal, judging by her contemplative expression and the way she touches her hair.
“Why didn’t you come yesterday as promised?” I ask Daniel. “Did something happen?”
“I planned to after I found Tobin. We went back to the manor to spend the night and gather his belongings. We didn’t get a chance to leave the next morning. One of the men woke me to inform me that the Head Trackers had arrived.”
“So soon?” I ask.
“They rode a boat straight from Elcolath. Three men. One from Elcolath, another from Sandir. The last one is from Aenile.” He stops speaking and rubs his chin, covered in a day’s growth of stubble. “They questioned us for the better part of the day. I did my best to hide how you three managed to get away, and they seemed to believe what I told them. Because I’m an Ellis. I thought that would be the end of it, until the healer showed up.”
We glance at one another with shocked expressions.
“The healer?” Tristan asks. “The one you sent?”
Daniel nods grimly. “He arrived at the manor, demanding payment for additional services. That’s when the three men caught wind of it and asked to meet with him. He told them about how I sent him to this house to heal a boy who sustained injuries recently.” He glances at me, his lips tightening. “He also mentioned a slender girl with black hair.”
“You’re joking,” Eve says. “Tell me you’re joking, Daniel. You can’t possibly be saying our cover was blown by a greedy little bastard who couldn’t wait a few days to receive compensation for his services!”
“Looks like requesting that healer wasn’t a good idea after all,” Tristan says.
I’m too horrified to get angry or treat this lightly. “Did the leaders believe him?”
“His description of you two was so accurate that it matched what the other Trackers told them.” He sits in a chair next to a small dresser and rests his elbows on his knees. His weary posture tells me there’s more.
“They don’t know I helped Eve,” he says. “Just you, Bree, and Tristan. I told them Eve took advantage of the cover of night to slip away, but I saved you because you’re a good person and you deserve to be free.”
“And Tristan?” Eve snorts. “I can’t imagine they believed the same of him.”
Tristan gives her a wounded look.
“Tristan’s injuries worked to his advantage. They made him appear too weak to be a Nightborn like Eve. And since he didn’t do any shifting, he couldn’t be a Dayborn. The Head Trackers were willing to believe he was a foolish human who involved himself in something dangerous. They didn’t care enough about him to press the issue.”
“I’m beginning to feel insulted here,” Tristan mutters.
“What about me?” My voice wavers.
The troubled look in Daniel’s eyes magnifies. “They want to meet the dominant who survived. They . . . want you to come back to the manor.”
After everything I did to escape it? They must be mad. I would never go back to that place. “And if I refuse?”
“They’ll destroy my Scarlet Blade.”