Amryn’s heart was in her throat. She couldn’t see much of anything—the rain was still pouring down, and one of Jayveh’s guards had tugged the carriage door almost completely closed, using it as a shield of sorts. But the unmistakable sounds of steel clashing against steel rang out. The guards were rallying. Striking out at their attackers.
A tremor rocked Amryn’s hands. She was shaking from adrenaline, fear, and pain—not all of it her own. Water dripped from her cloak to the floor of the carriage with a softplink, plink, plink.It wasan odd sound to pick out amid the roar of the storm and the furious clash of fighting outside, but it helped Amryn tune out the torrent of emotions that threatened to drown her.
The carriage door was thrown open, revealing Carver. He had Sadia cradled in his arms.
One of Jayveh’s bodyguard helped lift her inside. Shudders wracked Sadia’s body. Her face was pale, and the arrow was still lodged in her back, near her shoulder.
“Mira?” Jayveh asked. When Carver shook his head, sorrow cut through her.
An arrow thudded into the side of the carriage. Carver took a step back from the door, drawing his sword. “Guard them all,” he told Jayveh’s bodyguards. His eyescaught Amryn’s. Nothing was said, but a thousand things were communicated in that single, searing look. Then he slammed the door, sealing them inside.
One of Jayveh’s guards remained near the closed door, knife drawn. The second stayed crouched near Jayveh as she crawled to Sadia.
The princess of Cael was curled on her side. The arrow embedded in her shoulder quivered with every shallow breath she took. Minimal blood stained her cloak, because the arrow hadn’t gone all the way through. Sweat and rainwater mingled on her forehead, her blonde braid disheveled and wet, her eyes glassy with pain as she gasped, “H-How bad is it?”
“You’ll be fine,” Jayveh said, grimness bleeding from her as she laid a hand on Sadia’s arm.
Amryn’s mouth ran dry. The arrow had ripped through flesh and muscle, shattering bone when it broke through her shoulder blade. Worse, Sadia’s breathlessness wasn’t caused by mere pain. One of her lungs had been pierced.
Sadia was dying.
Tears leaked down Sadia’s cheeks. “Tell Samuel . . . I love him.”
Moisture welled in Jayveh’s eyes, but she blinked it away. “You’re going to be fine,” she repeated. She looked between Amryn and her nearest bodyguard. “Do we pull it out?”
“No,” the guard said at once. “That will cause more damage than pushing it through.”
Sadia choked, terror sparking. “Please don’t.”
Zacharias stopped his harried praying to say, “Don’t torture the girl. There’s no saving her.”
Jayveh ignored the high cleric. She brushed a soft hand over Sadia’s head. “We’ll be quick,” she murmured.
Sadia shuddered, her exhales carrying a slight wheeze now.
Breathlessness clutched Amryn’s own chest, her lungs squeezing tight. She had the power to heal Sadia.Maybe. When Amryn had healed Ivan on Zawri, he’d been dying from blood loss, but the wound itself hadn’t been especially grievous. Sadia’s was. She was losing the ability to breathe. If Amryn attempted to heal too much, the drain on her magic could kill her. If she had the bloodstone . . .
No. Even if it was in her hands right now, she couldn’t risk using it. The power she’d pulled from the amulet had been incredible, but it had taken something from her, too. She feared what she’d lose if she ever used the bloodstone again.
She forced herself to take a breath. She just needed to repair Sadia’s lung. Perhaps the shattered bone as well. The rest, Sadia could survive.
When Jayveh asked Amryn to help hold Sadia down, she didn’t hesitate. Laying her hands on Sadia’s trembling body, Amryn tried to ignore the whisper of warning in the back of her mind. It might have been her mother’s voice, or even her uncle’s—they’d both told her to never use her gift of healing. The threat of exposure from using such an obvious gift was too great. If they knew she was doing this—in front of witnesses, no less—they would be terrified for her.Shewas terrified. But she couldn’t let another friend die. She hadn’t been able to save Argent from Tam, but she wasn’t helpless now.
Jayveh’s bodyguard carefully grasped the arrow.
Sadia whined low in her throat, agony sparking through her torso.
Amryn flinched, feeling the same splintering pain.
“Breathe deeply,” the bodyguard said, his voice a low rumble.
Sadia and Amryn inhaled together. But while Sadia’s was thin and rasping, Amryn’s was bracing.
Jayveh’s guard shoved without warning. The arrow punched through Sadia’s body, and her shriek tore through the air.
Fire lit through Amryn’s shoulder, ricocheting through her chest and down her back. Her vision hazed at the fresh agony, but she forced herself to focus. To isolate Sadia’s pain until she found the most excruciating parts of it. Grabbing hold, she dragged that pain into her own body.
Her heart stuttered in her chest, her pulse skittering. But as she opened herself to the pain—accepting it into herself—her empathic magic flared to life, burning away the damage from Sadia’s body. Healing her.
