“You are surrounded!” she calls. “You will surrender to the Queen’s Army. If you run, you will beshot.” She must see the bodies on the ground because she stops short and stares, then gestures. “Lieutenant! That’s the king! Find the field surgeon. Get the—” She breaks off, draws a bow over her shoulder, and shoots. Fifty yards away, a Truthbringer drops to the ground. Without missing a beat, she scans the grounds, then looks back over her shoulder. “Nora! Show me where to find my sister.”
Callyn gasps.
Because there, riding up behind Verin, is Nora, still astride Teddy, little Princess Sinna tied in front of her, just like before.
I let out a breath. “Your sister,” I say softly, because I can’t quitebelieve it. “She went to fetch Nolla Verin.” I shake my head a little, staring. The queen has already begun striding forward, the soldiers following. I’m a bit light- headed, but I give Callyn’s hand a tug. “Come on.”
“Do you trust this?” Callyn says.
For a moment, my usual cynicism kicks in, and I want to be suspicious. But then I look at this massive militaristic response, and I realize that all of my suspicion was probably my own guilt all along.
“I do,” I say. “Also, you were right. I should have listened to you.”
She peers up at me in the summer heat. “I was right?”
I give her a smile. “Your sister was the key to surviving the battle.”
But then I take another step, and my vision goes spotty.
“Alek?” she says. “Alek!”
I don’t know if I’m falling or if the world turns upside down. All I know is that I give her hand a squeeze, and then the sky goes dark.
CHAPTER 42
TYCHO
I’m not dead, but there’s a part of me that wishes I were.
It hurts just as much to dig the bolt out of my shoulder this time. Maybe more, because I’m mostly conscious the whole time— and I told them what Nakiis told me, that any flesh that touched the Iishellasan steel needed to be cut away if we had any hope of healing it. The king’s wound is worse, from what I hear. I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen Jax either, but someone tells me they got the bolt out of his abdomen. I ask if his wound is worse than mine, but no one can tell me.
Then they go to cut away more flesh, and I lose track of time.
A lot of time.
When I finally wake, I think I’m dreaming. I’m in Jax’s bedroom again, and the space is bright with sunlight. Nothing is dusty, and the window is unboarded. We’re sharing his bed, both shirtless, his hair wild and unbound across the pillow. His body is a warm weight against mine, his cheek pressed into my arm, his breathing slow and even.
But when I lift a hand to stroke it across his cheek, my shoulder aches. I gasp and set my hand back down.
For a moment, I lie there and try to orient myself. The world seems whimsical and not quite real, like perhaps I dreamed all of it, and this is still the first morning after I was shot while galloping away from the Truthbringers on Mercy.
I think of Nakiis, feeling for the familiar flickers of his wind and ice magic in my blood, waiting for a breeze to swirl through the room, all the signs that accompanied the new magic he lent to mine.
But there’s nothing. I knew there’d be nothing. His magic is gone. I knew it the moment we walked out of the barn. I knew it when we faced Xovaar and Karyl and I thought everything was lost.
My throat tightens.Do not grieve yet, he said.
How about now?I want to ask.Can I grieve now?
But no. I have no idea what happened, and as usual, there’s probably still work to be done.
I run a hand down my face. I glance at Jax, but he’s still sound asleep. Is he injured? I have no idea. I’m mostly shocked that he’salive. I remember the moment the Truthbringers shot those arrows, the way the king plummeted from his horse. The way I dropped from Mercy.
When I move, I expect pain like the last time I was shot, but beyond the ache in my shoulder, there’s none. I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
Even with my motion, Jax doesn’t move, so I look down at him. His breathing is slow and even, so I think he’s fine— but he doesn’t have the magic in his blood that Grey and I have. Would the Truthbringers’ bolts have caused more damage? Or less, since the steel wouldn’t affect him as badly?
I tug at the bedding lightly and discover thick bandages encircling his rib cage, and I swallow. He twitches a little in his sleep, and I don’t want to disturb him, so I let go, rising to leave the room. A tunic is strewn over the back of a chair, and I have no idea whose it is, but rightnow, I don’t care. I gingerly pull it over my head and make my way through the doorway.
