Page 52 of The Last Knight

Aubrey stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what shocked her more, the arrival of a being out of a dream…or the realization that somehow, things had just shifted in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You seem unwell,” Sterling said, his voice a deep, melodic rumble that matched his ethereal presence. His silver eyes, cool and piercing, fixed on Gunther with concern. “What has become of you, my friend?”

Gunther met the Eslander’s gaze without flinching. “It’s growing stronger. Stronger than I imagined. I can feel it crawling beneath my skin…waiting.”

Sterling’s brows drew together in a sharp frown. “Then you should not have summoned me. I will not fight you, Gunther. And I will not kill you.”

“If it comes to that,” Gunther said quietly, “you must.”

A heavy silence followed.

Aubrey’s breath caught. “Gunther, no.” Her voice trembled. “Why would you ask that of him? There has to be another way. We’ll find it.”

Sterling turned his gaze on her, the silver eyes assessing her like one might examine an unfamiliar relic. Aubrey instinctively stepped back.

“Who are you?” he asked, his tone not unkind, but threaded with suspicion.

“I am…” she started, but Gunther moved subtly in front of her, placing himself between them with quiet protectiveness.

“She is Aubrey,” he said, his voice level. “She requires help to return to her realm. I didn’t summon her, she came on her own. And there’s no one else with the power to take her. Not that I know of.”

Sterling tilted his head, intrigued. “I can take her back, if that’s what you wish. But you should ask why she’s here before sending her away. If she was drawn to you…she may be part of the answer. Perhaps even the key to breaking free.”

Gunther's jaw tightened. “There was hope. Before perhaps. But the darkness has surged in the past days, and I’ve been unable to keep it at bay. I won’t risk her being taken by them.”

Aubrey stepped around Gunther, determination burning in her chest and held out the bowl and the dagger. “I found these. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Why else would I appear here right after discovering them?”

Sterling arched a brow, the slightest glimmer of curiosity sparking in his otherwise unreadable face. He took the bowl from her hands and turned it over in his palm, his fingers tracing the strange carvings.

“Interesting…” he murmured. “There are bowls like these in Esland. Rare. Often hidden.”

He glanced up at Gunther, a spark of something deeper behind his eyes. “Perhaps she’s more than an accidental guest. Perhaps she’s the beginning of your salvation.”

Her heart jumped. “What is it used for?”

“A myriad of things. Mixing of herbs and grasses that are used for ailments or for solidifying spiritual strength.”

“What of the opposite, spiritual attachments or attacks?”

Again, the prince shrugged. “I am not a magic, but a warrior. I rarely require a healer or any treatments.”

“But there are people in your realm who are prolific in using this bowl?” Aubrey replied. “Do you think one of them, a magic, could save Gunther from the darkness?”

Sterling looked saddened when he shook his head, glancing at Gunther. “It is very likely that whoever attempts to help Gunther will probably be killed by that which binds him. The darkness is very powerful and will fight with all its might not to be taken away from its host. I do not believe it is possible.

“Would you do it?” Sterling asked circling Aubrey, the icy eyes not moving away from her. “Go as far as to risk your life for not only your own kind, but a total stranger?”

Aubrey refused to give up. “He is not a stranger. There has to be someone who is willing to help, a strong magic.”

“Stop,” Gunther said, putting his hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. “Right now, what is important is for you to return to your realm.”

Your realm. He’d not said, “our realm.” Did he not consider himself part of the human realm anymore?

Aubrey’s head snapped at the force when Sterling seized her arm and yanked and spun her, shoving her behind him. A metallic ring echoed as he pulled a sword, its gleaming tip pointed straight at Gunther.

“What…” she began, but the words died in her throat.

“The darkness,” Sterling said grimly, “it’s consuming him.”