“She doesn’t need her hands to talk.” Nythen’s face appears beside me. He stares down at her, assessing, and she shrinks back into the ground. “How much longer?”
“As long as it takes.” I grit the words out, and when she looks at me again, there’s something that might be betrayal lurking in her gaze. Her jaw firms, and she turns her face to the side as I reach for her left hand. “Take a deep breath for me.”
Her fingers aren’t as dark on this hand, but my other glove slips over them just the same. I avoid her gaze until I’m finished. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
She’s shaking her head, but my thumb brushes her lower lip. “Somebody hit you. Here.”
It’s swollen, faint bruising visible beneath the dried blood that still gives off a little light. I carefully rub my thumb over the small wound, checking for anything inside, but her lips part, and I stop.
What are you doing, Eres?
Our eyes meet once more.
I don’t know. But I know that the thought of handing her over to Nythen for his preferred form of interrogation fills my stomach with rocks, makes my throat close up.
The Lightbringer sucks in a breath, her hands twitching in the gloves. If the sensation is coming back, it’ll be agony, but she doesn’t make any further sound. Although her trembling grows, filling her entire body. As if she can’t stop it. Her fire eyes flutter, and close again.
They’re not used to the cold. Not like us. I unfasten the ridiculously heavy cloak Kaelen forced on me—one of his, if I’m not mistaken—and slip my hand under her back, lifting her.
“Here.” Eldritch takes the cloak from me, and I hold her as we wrap her up. “I can take her.”
“She rides with me.” I adjust the cloaked bundle of her in my arms as I stand. She’s not particularly short, but she fits perfectly. I don’t meet any of their eyes as I push past a scowling Nythen, Valcor watching with his arms folded as I cross to my horse. “I need to check her on the way.”
Ineedto get her into the healing chambers, where I can look at her properly. I have little equipment out here, and the condition of her hands concerns me enough that I know we’ll be coveringthe ground in half the time. But right now, the cold is the biggest threat.
“She’s our enemy, Eres.” Valcor says the words, his eyes running over her and narrowing with distaste. “They left her for a reason.”
“I’m not a fool,” I say abruptly. “But nobody touches her until I’m satisfied with her progress. The Council will decide from there.”
My heartbeat thuds louder as I climb up, tucking her against me to try and give her some of my warmth. I’ll need help, if I’m to stop Nythen stealing her as soon as we’re back through the gates. Even now, I can feel his eyes on her. Squaring my shoulders, I pull her closer.
And I’m not sure I can count on Kaelen. Not when he hates Lightbringers as much as the rest of us do, and deservedly so. As much asIdo.
I look down, to where her nose is pressed against my shirt. She’s still trembling, even unconscious.
I’m just not so sure about this one.
Darian
My dagger hits the target perfectly. The second is barely an inch away, the third closer still. The Lightbringer folds beneath the rapid blows, collapsing to the ground in a groan of wood and straw. The head rolls off, collecting dust from the training ground as I stalk over to tear my weapons from the dummy, my jaw tight.
It hasn’t helped. I’d thought sparring might have cleared my head, but instead I’m more aware than ever of the looks thrown my way. Of the way men I used to call friends pretend not to see me when I walk by.
At this point, I may as well wear a sign on my forehead.
Traitor’s blood.
Traitor’s son.
Traitor.
One and the same to most here. The reason doesn’t matter. All that matters is that my father made a choice to try and save who he could and instead condemned us.
Me. He condemnedme.
I glance to the gates across the courtyard to my right, searching for any sign of an incoming party. I’ve tucked myself away in one of the smaller practice areas in an attempt to avoid notice, away from the main training grounds with far better equipment. I kick at the useless dummy, my lip curling before I sigh and crouch, attempting to put it back together.
“I didn’t realize you were that hard up for friends that you’re making your own.”
