Magick itches at my palms, and I wonder what would happen if I used it. How he would look. If his spirit would be here.
My body trembles as tears spill down my cheeks. A pitiful cry leaves me as I clutch him tighter.
He’s gone.
The pain in my chest sharpens, but as I readjust Sorin in my lap, my breath hitches. His eyes have rolled closed but that isn’t what’s drawn my attention. It’s barely there, but as I squint, I swear I see it.
Movement.
I press my hand into his chest, just as the leaves around us begin to move faster. The twigs and branches whiz in circles around us, buzzing with life despite their dried and dead appearance. My hand shakes against his chest, but I close my eyes and wait.
Forty
Elora
“Hang on, Elora,”Jarek says. “Whatever’s happening, someone must be able to help. You just have to hold on a little longer.” His voice is muffled, and pain slices through my temples when I attempt to shake my head. Jarek must read my expression because he sets me back down, settling me in his lap.
My heart races and I try to sit up, but when I do, blood erupts from my nose and mouth.
“Sorin—” My words are cut short by a gurgled cough. Blood spews from either side of my mouth, staining my tunic.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” Jarek says.
I attempt to shake my head again, but the pain only increases.
Go help, Sorin!I want to scream but the words don’t come.
Jarek and Alaric watch me with widened eyes. They don’t understand what I’m trying to tell them. That whatever is happening to me, is because it’s also happening to Sorin. Because when I took his debt from Grawgeth, I didn’t wager the same terms. I did not give her the last ten years of my life, as Sorin had.
Instead, I traded my life for his.
Reckless, Sorin called me and now I’m beginning to believe him.
A soul for a soul.
One death for the other.
I clutch at the imaginary wound on my chest, pressing into it as if it will do anything to stop his fate.
Or mine.
Alaric lays at my side, his cold nose brushing against the back of my hand. His whimpers are broken and soft. I try to comfort him through our bond, but the sharpness in my chest is too distracting. All consuming.
Where are you, my love?
I focus on my surroundings. Clinging to the image of Jarek at my side. To the feel of Alaric licking my cheeks where my tears have fallen. Any and every tangible thing I can grasp onto but then, they start to slip away.
Jarek’s face becomes blurry. Alaric’s warmth begins to fade. My chest tightens, and as it does, more blood rushes out from a wound that isn’t there, leaving me in a deeper panic.
Thunder slams around us, thick clouds polluting the sky. The rain begins, sending relentless sheets of freezing water from the sky. Jarek hovers over me, trying his best to keep me dry but it’s no use.
The storm is vicious. Galls of wind whip around us, rattling the branches on the trees and whipping the fallen leaves into the air, but through all of the gray and muted tones of the forest, a tiny fleck of yellow whizzes past me.
“Sorin!”I cry out, but Jarek just runs a hand down my cheek. His face, just as bewildered as mine.
He doesn’t understand.
Somewhere, something has happened to Sorin and now my bargain with Grawgeth will be repaid.
