A start that had nearly ended us.
But he was right about one thing—we had hurt Heliconia. Badly. She’d poured power and soldiers and Scathwolves and whatever abomination the Frostwights were into that camp, confident no one would dare strike it.
And I had.
Me. The girl she’d cursed. The princess she’d tried hard to keep sleeping forever. Let her feel that when she looked at the ashes. Let her know it was me who burned it all to the ground.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aurelia
Iwoke in a different place but on the same bedroll, the cave lit by a torch. Exhaustion still clung to every part of me, but I forced myself to sit up. A cask of water sat nearby. I drank deeply, noting the cavern where I slept had a lower ceiling than before. The air was humid, stale, unmoving.
Farther down the narrow tunnel, more torches flickered. I could hear voices murmuring quietly. The only other bedroll beside mine was empty.
Shoving aside the temptation to sleep again, I pushed to my feet.
My legs shook, but they held. Slowly, I made my way down the tunnel, my head nearly brushing the ceiling above me. Around the bend, the path opened, widening into a rough chamber where the others had gathered.
Faint torchlight illuminated the faces of the survivors.
Withered, hollow-eyed but alive. There were far fewer now than we’d brought with us. A dozen at most. They regarded me warily but without the hostility of Brist and Taron. Eirnan was seated against the wall, one leg splinted, cloak torn and blood-streaked, gaze steady and watchful.Beyond him, on a pallet of cloaks, Lesha lay motionless, wings nothing but blood-stiff bandages. Keres bent over her, tending her wounds, and my heart squeezed at the sight of them all.
My people. My responsibility. My war.
I stepped toward them, pressing a hand to the rock for balance.
“Your Highness,” Eirnan greeted. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
Leif appeared, taking my elbow and offering support. I leaned on him gratefully and let him lead me over to where Keres hovered over Lesha.
“What are you doing up?” Keres demanded.
“How long was I out?” I asked.
No one answered.
I glared at Keres. “How long?”
“Two days, Your Highness,” Leif answered quietly.
Two days.
I tried not to think of everything that might have happened in the world during those two precious days. Instead, I looked down at Lesha. Her chest barely moved with her small breaths.
Fear twisted inside me.
“How is she?” I whispered.
“She’s weak,” Keres admitted. “Hasn’t woken for more than a few minutes at a time. Thorne and Daegel have taken turns carrying her.”
I looked over at where the two warriors stood watching us. “Thank you,” I told them. They dipped their chins. I looked back at Keres. “Will she recover?”
“I don’t know,” Keres admitted quietly. “There are broken bones and wounds that healed over, only to be inflicted again.”
Torture.
“But the loss of her wings is the most concerning,” Keres went on.
