“I have to find my brother.”
She nodded, pressing her eyes closed. His pain was as real and sharp to her as her own. “I know. But come with us first. You’re injured. Heal yourself and then go after him.”
“Eira!” Noelle shouted. The group was already getting swallowed by the crowd.
She looked between Olivin and Noelle and began running toward the latter. Eira honestly wasn’t sure if Olivin would join them, but he did. He was at her side in a few long strides.
“Let me help you.” He threw his arm around her waist, pulling one of hers over his shoulders. Eira was too weary to be proud and resist.
They ran through the heart of town, down the winding streets. Every step brought them closer to much needed supplies, but it also felt like Cullen was fading farther and farther away to a place none of them could reach.
“The Pillars aren’t stopping anyone?” Lavette looked over the docks. Boats were launching left and right.
“They want the world to know,” Eira said softly. “The Pillars want some common folk to escape to tell everyone of their power—and what happened here.”
“I’m going to be sick,” Varren muttered. His usually pale face was as white as a ghost. He swayed and shook.
Eira had been fighting the same for what felt like the better part of the past hour…even though she knew it likely hadn’t been much more than ten minutes. The world had completely changed.
“This is it.” Eira nodded toward the warehouse.
“Here? Isn’t this where they were keeping supplies for the tournament?” Alyss asked.
“Exactly. There will be supplies here.”
“AndPillars.”
“No, they don’t need this place anymore…they’ve stripped anything useful to them,” Eira reasoned as Ducot shifted the chain and lock on the door into an iron bar and pulled it open. They hobbled inside. He shifted the lock back around the handles, this time on the inside. “But there should still be something useful to us.”
“I really hope you’re right about them leaving,” Ducot muttered. “We’re not in any condition to fight anyone off.”
“We won’t be here for long,” Noelle reassured him with a hand on his shoulder. The two of them spoke quietly amongst themselves, their whispers too low for Eira’s still ailing ears to hear. Olivin released Eira as she hobbled over to where Cullen was stretched out by Alyss and Lavette.
“Hang in there,” she whispered to Cullen as she knelt at his side.
“You still love him, don’t you?” Lavette asked softly, opposite.
“I’m honestly not sure,” Eira admitted. “Part of me thinks I do. Part of me thinks I loved the man I thought he was and I don’t know if I love the man he is. There’s been a lot happening in a short amount of time and I’d been planning to figure all of it out after the tournament.”
Lavette nodded as if she understood all too well.
“I’m sorry.” She meant it. “I did love him, and falling out of love is hard.”
“I find love is something that can’t be controlled.”
“Do you love him?” Eira dared to ask as Alyss was still off gathering supplies. Olivin pulled Alyss aside, talking quickly with her and Varren. Eira hoped Alyss could tend to both their wounds quickly.
Lavette slowly shook her head. “No, but I respect him.”
“Both of you, give me space.” Alyss returned and began setting out her supplies. They did as they were told.
Eira tried to stand, but her leg gave out. She slipped, bracing to fall hard when an arm wrapped around her ribs. Olivin made a motion for her, but he was too far, off rummaging through some crates. So it was Lavette who supported and eased Eira to the ground.
“You’re not well either,” she observed.
“I’m better than him.”
Lavette looked back to Cullen. “I have no interest in fighting with you over him.”
