Marlow helped the woman to the front step of the house and motioned for her to sit. “Are you hurt?”
“Sprained my ankle, but I’m fine.”
“What’s your name?”
The woman sniffled and tucked the stray strands of brown hair back into her bonnet. “Nessa.”
“I’m Marlow. I’m going to fix your ankle, alright?” She crouched to examine the damage.
“You a doctor?”
“I’m a healer.”
Nessa flinched back, fear hardening her features. “You’re a wielder?”
“Yes,” Marlow answered plainly.
“All of you?” She seemed more distressed by this than by the corpse on the ground.
Marlow nodded, and August bristled at the fact that she’d lumped him with them. He wasn’t a wielder.
He bit back the urge to correct her. Probably not the best time. Besides, he still lacked a solid argument that wasn’t rooted solely in his own stubbornness.
“What are you doing here?” Nessa demanded sharply. “What do you want?”
Unbothered by the hostile tone, Marlow said, “Just passing by. Lucky for you, eh?” She wrapped her hand around Nessa’s ankle, her rings glowing red.
Healing the woman took only a moment. When Marlow’s hand fell away, Nessa tested the ankle, rolling it for a moment before rising slowly from the step.
“You ought to go,” she said. Then her voice softened. “Thank you for stopping them.”
Felix’s posture went rigid—enough of a shift to catch August’s attention. “Them?” he asked, his face unreadable.
The woman glanced at the body on the ground. “Darren and his brother. They killed poor Bea. I fled and took to hiding, but the screams…”
Marlow and Felix shared a look.
Then the world tilted into chaos.
A man burst through the door behind them, hook slashing through the air. Felix yanked Marlow aside, and the hook missed by inches, the swing pitching the man off balance. He caught himself, reeled the hook back, and drove it forward again.
It sank into the woman’s chest, and the man forced it downward, splitting her open. An awful, sickeningsplatas gore spilled out onto the grass at her feet.
August gasped, eyes wide as he stumbled back.
She stayed on her feet, dropping her gaze to her gaping abdomen. Then the man grabbed her, flung her to the ground, and dug his hands deep inside the gash.
A gunshot cut through the yard, and the man collapsed. The world went still and silent once again.
“Well,” Felix said, the nonchalance in his tone a stark contrast to the scene around them. “She was right. We should go.”
August couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bodies on the ground. He’d seen a few lost before, heard one attack someone on one of his trips into Bedwyck. He’d even come face to face with one at the night market in Fallowmoor, though he hadn’t understood it at the time. But he’d never seen the full brunt of their brutality this close.
He swallowed the lump in his throat—don’t be sick don’t be sick—and asked, “Are the losteverywhere?” He’d hoped the epidemic was limited to Bedwyck. How did the elixir even make it out this far?
Felix frowned, giving him a sideways glance. “Lost?”
August gestured to the dead man.
