The crack rips through the air and through me. My whole body locks, nausea surging up my throat.
“I-I need a bandage,” I manage.
“Here,” River says immediately, tearing the hem of his white shirt and handing the strip to me. It’s just long enough to wrap twice around Nala’s crushed leg.
I take it with shaking hands, forcing myself to focus—because losing control now could cost her far more than a broken bone. I tie the knot as tightly as my trembling hands will allow. The fabric bites into my fingers, slick with blood—Nala’s blood—and I don’t even notice the tears streaming down my cheeks until they drip onto my wrists. I draw my hands back, resting them on my knees, and the dark stain spreading across my leggings makes my stomach twist.
“W-what now?” River asks. His voice is thin, stretched tight around the worry etched into his brow.
I swallow hard, forcing my thoughts into something usable. My hands won’t stop shaking.
“I… I guess we wait for her to wake up,” I say, though the words feel fragile, barely holding themselves together. I shrug off my jacket and drape it over Nala’s torso, tucking it around her sides as gently as I can. “We have to make sure she stays warm.”
River nods, but his eyes stay locked on her face, scared in a way I’ve never seen him.
I brush a strand of hair from her forehead, my fingers lingering just long enough to feel the faint rise and fall of her breath. It steadies something in me—barely—but enough to keep me from collapsing under the weight of it all.
All we can do now is wait.
Wait and pray that she opens her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Where are you going?” River’s voice cracks as he asks, but I can’t look back at him.
“I-I just need a minute…” My throat tightens around the words. “Watch her.” I gesture weakly toward Nala’s unmoving body. He gives a small nod, though concern shadows every part of him.
I step away, but the dismembered carcass looms behind me like an accusation. The centipede’s severed limbs, the metallic stench, the smear of its viscous blood—it all feels like it’s pointing at me. Reminding me of what I did.
I scoop up the sword I forged, half expecting it to vanish as soon as my fingers brush the hilt. But it doesn’t. It hums faintly in my hand, glowing with the same eerie pulse as Ryder’s blade.
Part of me thought it was a figment of my imagination, but here it stands in front of me—real. As real as the cold air burning my lungs. As real as the blood on my clothes.
“I see you used the Gift of Xoro.” Ryder’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I flinch, turning to face him.
“I-I’m just so confused. There’s no magic in the Hollow,” I whisper, my fingertips trembling as they trace the tiny engravings of centipedes curling along the handle.
“And somehow,” Ryder says, crossing his arms as a faint smile flickers at the corner of his mouth, “you managed to find some.”
His admiration doesn’t warm me like it once did. Not now. Not with everything collapsing inside me.
The weight of it all presses harder—Oriah’s warning, the truth gnawing at the edges of my mind. I thought the fear of destroying the world was unbearable enough, but now… now Nala might never walk again. Because of me.
“You okay?” Ryder asks gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I try to hold steady, but the question shatters me into a million pieces.
“It’s all my fault.” My voice is barely a breath as I crumble onto a fallen tree, burying my face in my hands. The Hollow has me right where it wants me.
Suddenly, everything feels too much. It was hard to carry before, but now it’s suffocating. My knees tremble and threaten to give out beneath me if I try to stand up.
“No, it’s not, don’t talk like that,” he tries, kneeling in front of me. But it’s useless. The words bounce off the wall of guilt, crushing my ribs.
“It is.” My voice shudders. “Oriah visited me… last night.” Tears prick hot at the corners of my eyes just saying her name.
Ryder’s expression softens immediately—shock masked by concern.
“She did…? What did she say?”
“That day in the mountain.” His jaw tenses instantly. “When you were on top of me…” He exhales sharply, looking away as if reliving the memory burns. “When I blended light and dark, the explosion wasn’t the only thing I caused.” My voice falters, breaking around the truth. “Oriah said it weakened the seal between our world and the underworld.”
