“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.”
I nearly added that Isaac needed guidance to protect him from the prophecy, but that wasn’t a good idea for Dorian. “Anyway, you have to come back to me. There’s too much I need you for. Too much we still have to do. Not just the blight. You said you wanted to fix things between us and bring back the trust. I want that too—but I can’t do it without you.”
In a movie, this would’ve been the optimal moment for him to come back to life a la Prince Charming. No such luck. He stayed exactly as he was. Feeling defeated, I wiped away my traitorous tears. The day’s weariness was taking its toll, and I couldn’t muster any more encouraging words. Nonetheless, I refused to leave his side. Maybe I was too tired for pleading, but I wanted him to know I was there. I snuggled in closer, keeping my face close to his sleeve in case any more tears broke free.
Sleep found me in spite of my sorrow. The body always knows best, even if the mind doesn’t. I slept heavily, and no one woke me for my watch—which they really should have. I stirred in the morning, when I felt the sun’s first rays warming my skin.
Something brushed my face, and I opened my eyes, thinking a butterfly had landed on me. Instead, I found Dorian’s fingertips touching my cheek and his eyes regarding me fondly. They were green and gold—and full of all the life and cunning I remembered.
“Dorian?” I whispered, barely daring to believe it. A happiness and wonder I hadn’t even known I was capable of spread through me.
“The same,” he said, just before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Did you miss me?”
“Maybe a little.”
“A little?”
“Okay. Maybe a lot.”
A smile lit his features, more glorious than the sunrise around us. There was a joyous shout from the other side of the clearing. Someone had noticed he was awake. Dorian’s smile turned rueful.
“Never a moment’s peace, is there? Well, then.” He shifted himself up, wincing a little from being inactive for so long. “Let’s go do great things, shall we?”
Chapter 17
None of the men seemed to show any serious aftereffects from the dryad magic, aside from dehydration and distaste for mistletoe. I watched them all with concern, especially Dorian. I thought I was managing it covertly—but apparently not.
“I’m not going to break, you know,” he told me. We were getting ready to set out, and I was packing up my bag near him. “You can let me out of your sight once in a while—not that I mind the touching show of concern. It’s almost like you care.”
I flushed and focused on my packing. “Of course I care. I mean, you know, because you’re my friend. And we need you. And you were hit the hardest by the dryad magic. It’s perfectly normal to be worried about you.”
“Perfectly normal,” he agreed. His face was the picture of innocence, but I caught the amusement in his voice. There was no mention of that brief, golden moment when I’d woken up with him, but the warmth of it stayed with me for the rest of the day.
Based on Keeli and Jasmine’s mistletoe run, we knew we could expect to cross into the Yew Land today, which sent a whole new sort of tension through us. Thus far, our journey had concentrated on the specific stages we needed to accomplish at the time—first crossing the blight, then Varia’s subjugated kingdoms. Those were big enough obstacles, and there’d been little time to talk about anything more. Now we had decisions to make.