“Shit,” Razik muttered, starting to turn.
A wave of darkness rose between the innocents and the phantoms. Cethin knew it wouldn’t do much, knew it couldn’t stop the phantoms, but if they couldn’t see them, maybe it’d buy them some time.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Every attack, every arrow, every onslaught was directed at them.
At him.
Hisses of frustration and curses of “blood of death” filled the air as Razik and Kailia worked to combat each and every one. The most Cethin could do was catch an arrow as Kailia spun out of the way, killing the phantom. The three of them watched as it crackled, turning to ash while light flared from the cracks before it dissolved into nothing. Until silence was all that remained while they watched errant ashes from Razik’s kills drift slowly to the ground.
Kailia dropped to a crouch, her breathing fast and heavy, and the action had Cethin dropping to his knees beside her and Razik lowering to a crouch too. Carefully, Cethin reached out, tipping her chin up. His eyes went wide as he found tears glimmering in amber depths, the smoke in them swirling slow and sluggish.
“Are you hurt?” Cethin demanded, gaze darting over her, looking for blood, cuts, bruises.
She shook her head, but instead of answering him, her eyes slid to Razik. “I can’t do this much longer,” she whispered, the words bordering on an anguished sob.
“What is she talking about?” Cethin demanded, anger slithering along his spine at Razik knowing something about her he didn’t.
“Not here,” Razik retorted grimly, gaze flickering to him then back to Kailia. “Let’s get inside.”
She nodded, and Cethin reached for her arm as she stood. She still held her bow, and he still held the arrow he’d caught, the gold arrowhead glinting in the faint moonlight. Razik took her other arm, and Cethin Traveled them all back to their room.
Setting the arrow on a side table, he grabbed a blanket, returning to wrap it around Kailia’s shoulders. She was still inher nightdress, her bow disappearing among a swirl of ashes, and he remained shirtless in loose pants.
“What is this about?” Cethin demanded as she lowered to a chair, pulling her knees to her chest.
But before anyone could answer him, there was a knock on the door and Lord Astor was calling, “Your Majesties? Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
Cethin jerked his chin at Razik to go handle the lord, and while he did that, Cethin crouched before Kailia. His hands on either side of her, he looked up into her face.
“Tell me what’s going on, Kailia. Tell me how I can help?” he urged softly, slowly reaching to brush hair off her brow.
“Has it ever occurred to you that you might be the one putting these people in danger? These creatures attack wherever you are,” she said, her voice cracking a fraction.
That hadn’t been what he’d expected her to say, and he swallowed thickly, because of course that had occurred to him. It was why he spent most nights in his study. It was why he risked using blood magic. It was why he was doing everything he could to figure this out.
“Yes,” he answered her, the word raw and vulnerable.
She nodded, the tears that glimmered minutes ago now gone, but an unmistakable agony still shimmered in her eyes.
“If it’s true, what will you do to stop the attacks? What would you give up?” she pushed.
“Anything,” he answered immediately.
“Me?”
His breath caught, lungs seizing at the very idea.
“Tell me what’s going on, Kailia,” he urged again, not willing to answer her question.
But she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, going quiet.
That was fine.
He’d figure it out his own way, like he had with everything else, and in the meantime, he’d prove to her she was more to him than the arrows and what she had to offer.
What would he give up?
Everything.
