Ah, Alobaz thought as if in a fog.Some thoughts came fast, others took forever to coalesce.The last time I was stabbed in the chest.Skeet had removed the blade without anyone bracing.Startled, he had thrown Skeet off, flinging him against a nearby rock so that Skeet had blacked out and an apprentice curera had to do the stitching.
Alobaz couldn’t make out who had his legs, but they were pressing down hard.He tilted his head, searching for the enchantress.The arch of his back tugged on his wound.A grunt slipped out.The tunnel was back, bearing down on his vision.
“Stay still,” Night said.“Stay down.”
“Can’t let ’er … die…” He was slurring.Not a great sign, really.Unlike Lev, he hadn’t imbibed anything more intoxicating than human blood.
From somewhere, Lev scoffed.“Of course we can let the bitch die.She tried to kill you, Baz.Fuck ’er hard, and not in the fun way.She dies.”
Alobaz tried to shake his head.It wasn’t working.His head rolled.His chest burned like flames were raging inside it.
“Can’t,” he mumbled.“Keep ’er alive.”He tried to use his command voice.It faltered.
Zitsked from his left.Or maybe it was his right.He couldn’t tell.
“She’s a sänglure.She’s not dying unless we drain her and take her head.”
“We are gonna drain her and slice off that pretty head of hers, though, right?”Lev asked.
“She wants to…” Baz swallowed, the bobbing of his throat feeling like too much effort.“Wants to…”
“Shut the fuck up, bro,” Lev said.“Rest.You’re in bad shape.”
Alobaz’s head lolled.“Wants to die.”
Which meant she could die—with her head still attached and blood, however much, in her veins.
“So let the cunt die,” said Ed, cold as the damp ground beneath him.
It seeped through his vest, his shirt, and straight into his bones.
Ed was nice to everyone—until she had really good reason not to be.
“Exactly,” said Lev.
“Save…” Alobaz whispered, the words starting to fail him.“…her.”
His vision darkened.He held on as hard as he could.
Fast and furious, he blinked.“Save her,” he ordered, more clearly.
This was the general, not the man.
Neither the general nor the man had reason to spare the assassin who tried to kill him.
“Sa—”
A hand latched on to his arm.
Alobaz swam through the darkness, searching for a face.
Félix.
The elf’s expression was hard, stoic.Reliable.“I’ll make sure we save her,” he said.“Now rest.”
Skeet counted down from ten.At the count of seven, Alobaz felt himself falling into the ground, dissolving into the mist.His hearing muffled.When Skeet yanked the blade out, Alobaz returned to his body for an instant—then he stopped fighting the darkness.
He let it flood in.
