Elara's POV
I run through twisting alleys, following Kieran's grey cloak ahead of me. Behind us, angry shouts echo off stone walls.
"Faster!" the man carrying Nessa hisses. He's quick despite her weight, moving like a shadow.
My lungs burn. My legs scream. But I push harder.
Kieran ducks into a hidden doorway. We follow, plunging into darkness. He slams the door shut and throws a bolt across it. Seconds later, footsteps thunder past outside.
We wait in the pitch black, barely breathing.
The footsteps fade.
"They're gone," Kieran whispers. "For now."
A flame sparks to life—a small magical light in his palm. We're in an abandoned building, dust thick on the floor. The man sets Nessa down gently against a wall.
"Who are you people?" I demand, kneeling beside my sister. Her pulse is weaker than before. We're running out of time.
"Friends." Kieran crouches across from me. In the light, I can see his face properly—maybe thirty, with a scar across his jaw and knowing eyes. "Or at least, not your enemies."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting right now." He studies Nessa with a healer's eye. "Death Weaver curse. Advanced stage. Two days left, maybe less."
My stomach drops. "The witch said three days."
"The witch was being generous." He looks at me seriously. "You need to reach the Death Keeper. Tonight. Every hour you waste here is an hour your sister doesn't have."
"Then help me! I have coins—not many, but—"
"Keep your coins." He stands, brushing dust off his pants. "I owe Caspian Morven a debt. Getting you to him safely pays part of it."
"You know the Death Keeper?"
"Everyone in the underground knows him. Most fear him. Some respect him. I'm one of the few he trusts." Kieran moves to a window, peering through cracked shutters. "The men chasing you work for someone at the Royal Sanctum. Someone who wants your sister dead and you discredited."
Ice floods my veins. "Who?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" He turns back to me. "But right now, survival first. Answers later. Can you ride a horse?"
"Yes."
"Good. Brennan here—" he gestures to the quiet man who carried Nessa, "—has horses waiting outside the city. We leave in ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, I'm on a horse with Nessa strapped to my chest, galloping into the night. Kieran and Brennan ride ahead, leading us through back roads and forest paths. The city disappears behind us.
We ride for hours. My whole body aches. Nessa's breathing gets shallower with each passing mile. I whisper to her constantly, begging her to hold on.
Dawn breaks grey and cold. We stop at a small village on the edge of civilization. Kieran pays a stable boy to watch the horses while we rest.
In a tiny inn room, I lay Nessa on the bed and finally let myself collapse. My hands are shaking. My eyes burn with exhaustion.
"Eat." Kieran shoves bread and cheese at me. "You're no good to her dead."
I force myself to eat. The food tastes like sand.
"Who cursed her?" I ask. "You said someone from the Sanctum. Who would do this?"
Kieran exchanges a look with Brennan. "We have suspicions. But no proof."
"Tell me."
"Commander Davrien Castor."
The bread turns to stone in my mouth. "What?"
"He's been buying curse components from black market dealers. Rare ingredients used in Death Weaver curses specifically." Kieran leans against the wall. "We've been tracking him for weeks. Then we heard a former Master Healer was asking about the Death Keeper, desperate to save her sister. The pieces fit."
My hands clench into fists. "Why would Davrien curse Nessa? To punish me? That's insane—"
"Is it?" Kieran raises an eyebrow. "You were the Sanctum's star healer. Young, brilliant, beloved. He was just another commander. But if you fell from grace, got desperate enough to seek forbidden help... he could position himself as the hero who saves you from darkness. Gets you back under his control. Gets rid of the sister you love more than him."
The logic is sick. Twisted. But it makes horrible sense.
"He cursed my sister to manipulate me back to him?"
"That's our theory."
Rage builds in my chest, hot and sharp. Davrien didn't just betray me. He tried to murder Nessa to control me.
"I'll kill him," I whisper.
"Get in line." Kieran pushes off the wall. "But first, save your sister. Then we can talk revenge."
We rest for two hours. Then we're back on the horses, riding north toward mountains I can now see in the distance—the Hollow Spine range, dark and ominous against the sky.
The temperature drops. Snow begins to fall. We trade the horses for a cart at another village, the last stop before the mountains.
"This is as far as I can take you," the cart driver says when we reach the base of the mountain road. He's old, his face weathered. "I don't go up there. Nobody does. That's death territory."
"I'll pay double," I beg.
"You could pay me a thousand gold coins and I wouldn't go up there." He spits in the snow. "The Death Keeper kills anyone who comes close. You're walking into your grave, girl."
Kieran pays him anyway and helps me lift Nessa from the cart.
"You're not coming?" I ask as the cart rolls away.
"This is your journey." Kieran hands me a small bag. "Food, water, and a protection charm. It'll get you through the wards around his fortress. Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Caspian doesn't like visitors. His magic might kill you before you reach the door." He grips my shoulder. "But if anyone can convince him to help, it's someone desperate enough to risk everything. Show him that. Show him you'll die for your sister."
Brennan steps forward, pressing something into my hand. A small silver coin, marked with strange symbols.
"Give him this," Brennan says—the first words I've heard him speak. His voice is deep and rough. "Tell him Kieran sends his regards. It might save your life."
Then they're gone, disappearing back down the mountain path.
I'm alone with my dying sister and a mile of frozen mountain between us and the Death Keeper.
I wrap Nessa in every blanket from the bag and lift her into my arms. She weighs almost nothing now. Her lips are blue. Her breathing is barely there.
"We're almost there," I whisper, even though I don't know if she can hear me. "Just a little further."
I start walking.
The snow gets deeper. The wind cuts like knives. My feet go numb, then my hands. Blood freezes on my knuckles where the skin cracks open.
But I keep walking.
Through the snow and fog, I finally see it—an obsidian fortress rising from the mountainside like a black wound against white snow. It looks abandoned. Dead.
This is where the monster lives.
I climb the final stretch, my legs barely working. At the massive front door, I lift my frozen, bloody hand and knock.
The sound echoes.
I wait.
Nothing.
I knock again, harder. "Please! I need help! My sister is dying!"
Silence.
Desperation claws at my throat. I pound on the door with both fists, screaming now. "Caspian Morven! Death Keeper! Please! I'm begging you!"
The door remains closed.
Nessa's body goes limp in my arms. Her chest stops moving.
"No, no, no!" I shake her. "Nessa, wake up! WAKE UP!"
Her lips are grey. Her skin is cold.
She's not breathing.
"PLEASE!" I scream at the door, tears freezing on my cheeks. "SOMEBODY HELP US!"
The door swings open.
And a voice like winter itself says, "You should have stayed away."