I’m very aware of Grey and the others in the barn around me, and I’m sure he wants to discuss a battle strategy, but just now I can’t think past the fact that taking Nakiis’s magic caused this.
“Did I do this to him?” I say to Igaa, and my voice is hushed.
“No,” she says, but I don’t believe her.
Then Nakiis’s voice speaks to my thoughts, though his eyes don’t open.—I gave what I could, young magesmith. You needed it more than I did.
I glance up at Igaa, thinking of the storms, the lightning, the magic that swirled through the clearing and held the scravers at bay.
I think of the way Nakiis didn’t want to give me any of it— and in the end, he forced me to take it.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I look up to find Jax. He drops to sit on his heels beside me.
“Can you help him?” he says softly.
“I don’t think so,” I say, and my voice is rough and worn. I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“CanIhelp him?” Grey says from behind me.
“Canwe?” says the queen. She’s taken Callyn’s hand, and they’re all looking down at the broken scraver.
At that, Nakiis’s eyes flick open. In the shadows, they’re so dark, but they pick up a glint of light from somewhere.
— No one can help me.
“Can I give it back to you?” I say desperately. “This is my fault. There must be a way. Can I—”
“Tycho,” Nakiis says, and his voice is barely more than a rasp. “Xovaar did this. Not you.”
“But you didn’t want to do this. You could’ve had more time. You could’ ve—”
“We’re all forced to make choices we don’t want to make . . .” His voice trails off in a rasp, and he reverts to mind- speech.—Haven’t you learned this yet? I feel certain your king has.
I swallow thickly. My eyes feel hot.
“Xovaar is coming,” Igaa says. “I can feel his power on the wind.” She looks toward the barn doors. “I can hear the horses.”
Nakiis’s black eyes lock on mine.—Do not grieve yet. There is work to be done.
The tone of his voice in my head has his usual irony, and it’s enough to choke back my emotion, just for a moment.
But he holds my gaze, and I realize what he’s not saying.
He doesn’t have much magic left. The help he already gave was likely all he had to offer.
I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, friend,” I say softly.
His clawed hands wrap around my fingers, surprising in their strength. “Keep her safe,” he says, the words so soft they’re barely audible.
“I will,” I say. “I swear it.”
His eyes flicker closed, and he lets me go.
I don’t waste time. I look back at Igaa. “You can hear them? How far?”
“And how many?” says Grey.
“Less than a mile,” she says, and my heart slams hard against my ribs. That’s a matter ofminutes. I don’t know how much time I was expecting, but it was more than that.
