“Ah, yes. I raised my temperature on purpose. Are you warmer now?”
“Much.” I shook my head in awe. “I knew you Dragons had Fire Magic, but I didn't know you could use it like that.”
“I can use it in all sorts of ways. Just like Water.” He waggled his brows at me.
As I laughed, the King's eyes went wide, and he gasped. Then he swayed on his feet.
“Cyn!” I tried to take his weight, but he was too heavy.
The Dragon King fell to his knees, and I finally saw why. An arrow protruded from his back.
“Assassin!” I shouted.
I didn't bother to search the rooftops. I knew my clan would handle it. And sure enough, as I braced the King against my legs and yanked out the arrow, Raltven daggers and arrows whizzed through the air. I heard a thud but couldn't see what made it. Not with the King's Guard surrounding us.
“I'm all right,” Cyn gasped, even as blood soaked his cloak.
“No, you're not.” I tore his cloak away, then ripped open the back of his shirt to see a ragged wound, the edges already turning black. “Fuck! It's poisoned.”
I dropped to the ground and bent my head to the wound even as the knights of the King's Guard urged me to step away so they could take the King back to the castle and his physician. I ignored them and focused on Cyn. Wrapping one arm around his chest to brace him, I gripped his side with the other and formed a seal over the wound with my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Cyn asked, his voice still strong.
That was a good sign. The poison hadn't spread yet. So I still had time.
I sucked hard, then spat.
The guards stepped back in horror, all of them staring at the blood on the snow, bits of black spotting it. I sucked again. And again. And again. I sucked and spat until the blood I expelled was bright crimson without a trace of toxin.
“Back away!” I shouted at the guards. “I need my people.”
“Do it,” the King growled.
The knights backed up, parting before me so I could see my clan. They were all gathered near, watching solemnly, and their expressions went relieved when they saw the King. At their feet, before the group, was a cloaked form riddled with arrows and bleeding from wounds made by corkscrew daggers.
The assassin. I knew he didn't stand a chance in the Forgotten. Not once I called upon my clan.
But that was only a bonus at the moment.
“I need alcohol!” I shouted. “Now! The stronger, the better!”
“Here, Ru!” Tuva, who lived in the apartment below mine, rushed forward and handed me a flask. “It's some of my latest batch. It will clean the rust off a blade.”
“Thank you,” I said to her as I snatched the flask, popped it open, and poured its contents over the King's wound.
Cyn grunted.
“Almost done,” I said as I handed the flask back to Tuva. Then I grabbed a handful of snow, the cleanest I could find, and packed it against the wound.
“What the fuck?” Cyn looked over his shoulder at me.
“You're too hot. Hot blood flows faster. The alcohol should clean whatever is left of the poison, but now I have to stop the bleeding.”
“If the poison is gone, the wound should be healing.”
“Oh. Fuck,” I muttered as I brushed away the snow. The remainder melted and revealed a wound that was much smaller than it had been. And it wasn't bleeding anymore. The flesh beyond was already knitting together. “Thank Ranya,” I whispered. Then I stood up and held a hand down to Cyn. “The poison is gone, Your Majesty.”
Cyn took my hand but stood mainly on his own. “Thank you. That was smart thinking, Ru.”
