The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,134

down the middle, forcing all the droplets into the container.

As Astrid smirks up at me, Whitley hands her another chunk of hair to weave onto the large circle. Every fae in our group has donated what they can. Even the Day soldiers with shorter mohawks let Astrid cut what they had. More than willingly, they’d lined up and sacrificed their vanity.

Whitley brushes back her shoulder-length locks, but they fall into her face again as she organizes the hair pile by color.

Crouching down, I cap the jug as I watch Astrid’s quick fingers. “Will this work?”

She stops weaving for a split second before continuing. “I don’t know. I wasn’t positive it would help you either. These fibers are filled with lifeforce. I can restart a heart or regrow a limb. But sickness or iron poisoning? I’ve never had the chance to try.”

So, more or less, this is an experiment. I hate the uncertainty, but this the best chance my mother has.

“Astrid, I have something for you.” Quinn rushes over, winded from running from the camp.

Kirian’s by her side, and his new hairstyle makes him appear a bit deranged. Mine probably isn’t much better. I haven’t looked in a mirror, but Astrid’s hurried snips have left most of us looking like we got into a fight with a meat cleaver and barely came out with our scalps intact.

Reaching into her satchel, Quinn pulls out a couple inches of light brown hair. A yellow ribbon is keeping it together. She extends it to Astrid, and the little witch snatches it so fast she nearly faceplants on the ground.

“A baby curl?” Propping herself up on her elbows, she sniffs it before rubbing it on her cheek. “Oh, this will be a wonderful addition. Young princess hair has quite a kick.”

Torius, who was trailing behind Kirian, zeroes in on it. His nostrils flare and he storms away. How odd. Maybe Kirian wasn’t overreacting when he’d talked about his friend’s reaction to Dani. Torius must really hate kids.

I mouth a thank you to my family, and they quietly leave the way they came.

Aside from the occasional soldier bringing us food, everyone’s been trying to give us privacy.

Except for Zander. He’s been pacing in the same spot for the past hour. I couldn’t begin to guess what’s running through his mind.

Maybe his caring and compassion go deeper than I thought. Just because he doesn’t show emotion, doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling it. He certainly went out of his way to make sure I had the best chance of survival.

“Damon.” My father’s plea reaches me from inside the mouth of the cave, and I leave the grassy area by the riverbank, slipping behind the waterfall to find my father’s agonized face.

“How is she?”

When I went inside to visit my mother earlier, she didn’t look good. Her hair was soaked with sweat, her skin was pasty white, and the blood vessels in her eyes had burst. I just hope we’re not too late. Most plague victims suffer for five days or so before succumbing to the illness, but I’ve heard of some dying in less.

Father hangs his head. “In a lot of pain. The coughing is getting worse.”

“Any blood?”

“Not yet. The handkerchief has come away clean.”

“That’s good. Her lungs are okay then.”

“For now.”

I nod. “For now. Want me to put her to sleep? Get her some relief?”

Putting his hands on his hips, he glances into the dark tunnel. “Yes, but she’d skin us both alive if I let you.” His lips tremble as he lets out a laugh. “Tough bird. She’s staying awake for me. She doesn’t want to miss our last moments togeth—”

“Hey,” I cut him off. “I’m not going to let her die.”

“I’m afraid this is out of your control, son.”

“Maybe not.”

His eyes narrow. “Care to explain?”

“I didn’t tell you before, because I thought you might say no…”

“Out with it.”

“I don’t have time to give details, but I need a strand of Mother’s hair.”

“Witchcraft?” he asks, aghast. “How can you even consider it after what we’ve been through?”

Patting his shoulder, I give him a friendly reminder. “Not all witches are bad.”

I silently dare him to say otherwise, but he holds his tongue when he realizes what I mean. His future daughter-in-law is in that category now, and her power might end up being passed on to our children.

Eventually, he’ll get on board. Honestly, what’s cooler than a line of royal witches and wizards?

We’ll be a whole family of badassery.

Reluctantly, my father retreats into the cave and comes