“No.” The single syllable wavered on her breath, but Elyse glared at Killian, a stubborn line drawn between her eyes. She turned from him, a hand on her lower back, and started to walk away.
It was then that Killian noticed the wooden building. Plain and rectangular with a single lantern illuminating the door. He knew that behind the building was the mouth of a cave that led down to a secluded set of healing springs. He knew that inside the building was an excellent healer and a few good friends.
They were at Privya’s.
Even as his soul rejoiced at being back at the clinic, he moved to Elyse, ready to object. He laid a hand on her shoulder, arresting her movement. Elyse spun toward him. Her eyes were alight with a murderous rage.
“Don’t touch me,” she spat, wincing with each syllable.
Killian relinquished his touch. He felt his expression soften as his heart churned, mingling with pain for Elyse’s injury and fear for his friends. And beneath all that, a simmering anger, because Elyse had chosen to leave them behind.
“Please—I don’t have a potion,” he began. He’d left his whole pack back at the inn. He didn’t even have a shirt to wear, let alone a way to transport back to Levoy. “Manny and Sera are—”
“I can’t.” Elyse ground out the words.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Killian growled. He was quickly growing tired of this. Every second they waited might cost their friends’ lives. Elyse was injured, but she was standing, walking. The woman he loved would never have left anyone to die in that city. She would have given her last breath to get every man, woman, and child out. And while he was glad she had made it out alive and relatively unscathed, he was disgusted. This Elyse—this soulless monster—couldn’t even be bothered to rescue her friends.
Because they weren’t her friends. And Killian was nothing more than collateral to her. That was the only reason he was still breathing.
The thought stung like acid, worse than the burning intensity of Elyse’s hate-filled gaze.
“Can’t,” she finally answered. “I lost too much blood, and it drained my magic. I only had enough power left to get us here,” she declared with a jerk of her chin toward the clinic. “Not back.”
Killian’s stomach bottomed out, falling hard like the cobblestones. He opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but was spared by the clinic’s door springing open.
“I thought I heard voices out here!” came a cheery, lilting voice. Auburn curls bounced toward them from the doorway as Corin ran to greet them. She stopped abruptly as she took in their state, her smile dropping. Killian wasn’t sure what exactly made her already wide eyes grow rounder—Elyse’s sneer, her haggard appearance, or simply her unannounced presence in general.
“Get Privya,” Elyse demanded as she stalked past Corin and toward the clinic.
Killian chased after her, not bothering to bid hello to Corin. “You left them,” he shouted as Elyse entered the clinic’s main room. He cut her off and spun to face her, prohibiting her from taking another step. “You left our friends to die.”
“Your friends,” she hissed. “I don’t need or want them.”
Killian roared. His hands were balled into fists, desperate to punch something, anything. He’d never felt so out of control before. A fierce loyalty burned in his chest, an avenging sort of anger that demanded retaliation on behalf of Manny and Sera. Manny, his dearest friend, his comrade and brother, and Sera, who had never lost faith in Elyse.
Corin appeared in the doorway behind Elyse and gasped. “You’re hurt.”
Elyse merely threw a glare over her shoulder. “I told you to get Privya.”
Corin’s eyes shot to Killian, and he gave her a sympathetic look. She knew that Elyse had given up her soul for Killian—he’d been the one to tell her—but they hadn’t known what that entailed. Witnessing firsthand the detachment in Elyse’s eyesand the venom in her voice was agonizing, and Killian could see that pain reflected in Corin’s face.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Killian turned to see Privya clad in her usual white, one hand elegantly poised on the banister. Her black hair was plaited neatly, and her pursed lips parted to ask, “What’s happened?”
Elyse pushed past Killian. “I’ve been injured,” she said curtly. “My back. I can’t reach it well enough to heal it myself.”
Privya, moving with a combination of grace and urgency, hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. As she began inspecting Elyse’s back, Killian turned to Corin.
“Do you have any transportation potion?” he pressed.
Her eyes flickered over his shoulder, watching with concern as Privya assessed Elyse. Then she met Killian’s gaze with despondence.
“I don’t have any,” she said quietly. She lowered her face. “I used all the ones Elyse gave me.”
Killian’s chest tightened as helplessness gripped him. His friends were hundreds of miles away—if they were still alive—and he could do nothing to aid them. He whirled, ready to spew more fury at Elyse, but Privya stood between them.
Her expression was stern as she said, “Outside—now.” A single long finger was extended toward the door. She didn’t wait for him to obey before she pivoted to Elyse and her blood-soaked back. Killian gave Elyse one last loathing look before he stormed toward the door.
Corin didn’t follow. He heard Privya order her to fetch something from her office as he shut the door. With a flick of his hand, Killian extinguished the lantern’s flame and letthe darkness swallow him. He paced the area in front of the building, trying desperately to calm himself, but it didn’t work. No matter how many steps he took, or how many breaths he forced in and out of his lungs, all he could picture was Manny and Sera slipping down into that deep, fathomless pit.
