Page 70 of Fae Tithe

Helena squeezed her eye shut, grinding her teeth with irritation as she went back over their conversation so far. She realised he had been partially answering both her verbal questions and thoughts the entire time.

She opened her eye, squinting up at him. So… I do not even need to speak aloud?

No. This is what it will be like when I come with you. I will hear your inner voice when you speak to me. Atlas shifted his giant head from Helena’s touch and coiled it around her back. He pressed her lightly there. She could not tell if it was a Dragon version of a hug, or if he was encouraging her to stand, or perhaps both. The curse will kill you if I do not balance it out and keep it at bay. If you pass through the tear and I do not stay in your head, you will die. If you leave without me, I will die. The moment he used his magic and my flame to deliver the killing curse to you, he tied us together.

“How do we get to this opening?” Helena asked.

Her mind was reeling from this information. Her head spun with thoughts of new worlds, consciousness, internal voices, and a Dragon in her head. She had no doubt that Atlas spoke the truth after she felt honesty travel down the fragile gold thread between them. Helena knew she had a chance. She could go back to her daughter, her partner, and the rest of her family. She and Lance could build the life they dreamed of together.

Too many thoughts. She breathed out heavily. In this situation, I should just do the next right thing.

Yes, Atlas replied.

“We will have a discussion about privacy at some point.” Helena chuckled weakly, which turned into a hacking cough, spitting up ash. “Where do we go?”

I saw the blue rip far on the horizon. We must walk, the Dragon said, pushing Helena gently with his head. He sighed happily. It has been so long since I have seen the colour blue.

Lance lost count of the number of times he used his healing waters to restart Helena’s failing heart. It would give the ghosts of a few beats, and then stop, again and again. He forced down the despair that clawed up his closing throat. The Merman’s magic could heal the most severe wounds, but it could not fix what was irreparably broken. It could not bring back the dead.

The High Prince’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he scanned Helena’s limp body on the bed. Her eye had swollen shut, her left arm was scarred grey, and everywhere else was littered with red-welted blisters and cuts.

Lance licked his cracked lips and swallowed. Come back to me. You must come back.

His eyes were wild as he poured his healing waters into her chest again, for the reward of a few heartbeats and the odd breath.

“Why didn’t you come get me?!” Lance’s voice cracked. “All you had to do was walk up the stairs. I would have followed you. Even to the end.”

He blinked. The ash that dusted his cheeks felt wet as something fell from his eyes. Lance’s first tears did not fall in a gentle shower. They came as a torrential downpour. He leant forward. His face crumpled. He heaved sobs onto Helena’s blistered face and neck. The Merman’s cries were so loud it shook the walls of the room and the floorboards beneath his knees.

“Please wake up. Please.”

Lance could not help but recall how Helena had managed to save him from a deadly wound all those years ago. His own healing magic had proven useless against the magically enhanced metal on the harpoon tip. She had saved him with nothing but common sense and wound care. He had the power of the sea in his blood but could not save her.

It’s not enough, he sobbed. I’m not enough.

This was his bold, brilliant, and beautiful woman, lifeless on the bed. She did not shy away from Lance’s black eyes, sharp teeth, and towering figure. Where other Landfolk turned from him in fear, she had looked at him with acceptance.

The only woman he had ever loved was dead.

The family is going to be devastated if I can’t save her. He swallowed, more tears freely falling.

Helena’s fragile heartbeats ceased, and Lance pressed his hands to her chest once more, the blue glow flickering and faltering as his power drained. Lance dug down inside himself, hands trembling as he pulled so deep from the magical well within that he did not know existed. He nurtured her heart into more weak pumps. Helena took a single laboured breath.

“Come back to me, Len, please. I’m not me without you. None of us are,” the Merman begged, tears continuing to stream down his cheeks.

Atlas had used the very tip of his muzzle to push Helena to her aching feet. She shuffled slowly between his two front legs, each as tall and thick as ancient tree trunks. Helena could not quite comprehend how huge the Dragon was. To her, he was like a moving mountain, tall, wide, and strong. She realised that to Atlas, she must be moving slower than a snail.

They travelled sluggishly through the landscape of Muspelheim. The pair headed towards the blue glow in the sea of swirling crimson that made up the sky. Everything was a varying shade of red and black in the world Helena trudged through. She focused on Lance’s beacon ahead, but movements in the distance occasionally caught her attention.

Something behemoth moved in the shadows of smoky ash.

“Atlas, what’s that?” Helena asked, peering through the hazy air.

A Surt. One of many, the Dragon replied. He turned his head in the direction Helena was looking. A big one, too.

“It can’t be bigger than you, surely,” she rasped. Her mouth was so dry. Helena felt like she had been walking for days and not a speck of water had passed her lips. Nor had she rested. She wondered if the golden thread between her and the Dragon had something to do with it. “What is a Surt?”

A Surt is a fire giant. They are the people that belong to this world. I am not the biggest being that exists in Muspelheim. When I was first trapped and sent here, in my youth, I tried to befriend one.