We finally reached a clearing in the woods. Lana and two other dhampirs stood there holding lanterns. We hurried up to them and found Olive propped up against a tree, a small bundle held close to her with one arm. When I got a good look at her, I understood why they’d been afraid to move her. Her face was so white, she could’ve passed for Strigoi herself. Her arm—the one not holding the baby—was nearly torn from her. The side of her head looked as though it had been slammed hard against something, and everywhere, everywhere, there was blood. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow.
Adrian focused on her for several moments, and then shook his head, his face full of despair. “I can’t,” he murmured, nearly choking on the words. “I can’t even bring up her aura. I’m out . . . I’m out of magic.”
Olive’s eyelids fluttered at the sound of his voice. “Is that . . . is that Adrian?”
He knelt down beside her. “Shh, don’t strain. You need to rest so I can build my magic back up and heal you.”
She managed a harsh laugh, and a small trail of blood leaked from her lips. “I’m beyond any magic, even yours.”
“Not true. I just need it back.”
“No time,” she croaked out. “But I need . . . to talk to you. Alone.”
“Olive, you need to rest,” Adrian insisted, but the words sounded hollow. We both knew she was right about time. Her life was bleeding out in front of us.
The baby in her arms began to cry.
“Go,” Dimitri ordered the others, shooing them away. To Adrian and me, he said, “Give her what comfort you can.”
I gave a weak nod, but mostly I was trying not to start crying.
“Take him,” Olive said, when the others had left. She thrust the baby toward Adrian.
I was pretty sure he’d never held a baby in his life, but as his arms went around the tiny bundle, the baby quieted. I leaned over to get a better look. He was so tiny as to seem unreal. A fuzz of dark hair covered his head, and he looked up at us with astonishingly alert eyes. He was wrapped in someone’s jacket, and Adrian attempted some half-hearted rocking.
“Shh, there you go. There you, Declan. Declan Neil Sinclair.”
“Raymond,” Olive said. She paused and coughed up more blood. “Declan Neil Raymond.”
“Neil’s last name,” I said.
“You have to take him to Neil,” she told us. “When I’m gone.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Adrian said, sounding as though he were having trouble keeping sobs from his voice.
With her good arm, she clutched Adrian’s sleeve. “You don’t understand. He is Neil’s. Neil’s his father.”
Arguing dhampir genetics seemed pointless, given her state. Maybe she was so out of it, she believed Neil was the father. Maybe she was speaking figuratively. From what I’d seen at Court, Neil loved her so much, he’d probably adopt the baby as his own anyway. “Of course,” I said gently, simply wanting to pacify her.
She was fading fast, but a spark of anger glittered in her eyes. “No, I mean it. He’s Neil’s. I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“Olive,” Adrian said, not unkindly, “that’s impossible.”
“No,” she repeated. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, I feared the worst. Then they fluttered open again. “I was only with Neil. Just once. And when I found out . . . I was so scared. I don’t know what happened . . . it must have something to do with me being restored. With all the spirit that was in me. I’ve been so afraid if anyone—Moroi or Alchemists—knew, they’d want to take the baby. Experiment on him, like Sonya does. So I hid. Hid from them all. Even N-Nina.” Her voice caught on her sister’s name, and she paused to breathe, which seemed to be causing more difficulty.
What she was saying was impossible. Two dhampirs couldn’t make a dhampir. It went against the fundamental rules of the world. And yet, if she believed that . . . I suddenly remembered her panic upon meeting me and then later, when she found out another Alchemist was coming. “That’s why you ran,” I said. “You were afraid of the Alchemist.”
She gave a weak nod and opened her eyes again. “You know how they are. I don’t know how this is possible, but they’d want to know. They’d take him. Please, Adrian. Sydney. Don’t let them. Or the Moroi authorities. Keep him secret until he gets to Neil. Then Neil will hide him. Neil will keep him safe. But promise me . . .” Her eyes closed, and her head tilted. “Promise me . . . you’ll . . . keep Declan safe . . .”
“Stay with us,” Adrian said urgently. My own vision was blurred with tears. “A little longer. Spirit’s coming back to me. I know it.”
Declan stirred in Adrian’s arms and began to cry again. Olive’s eyes open a slit, and she smiled. “So sweet,” she said softly. Her eyelids fell closed again, and all the tension went out of her body as she slumped forward.
“There,” Adrian gasped out. “I’ve got it . . . a spark of spirit . . . enough to see auras . . .”
I clutched his arm and felt tears running down my cheeks. “Adrian . . .”
“The baby’s is so bright,” Adrian said. There were tears on his face now too. “Like a star. But in her . . . there’s nothing. No aura left to see . . .”