With what little strength remained, I pushed hard on my magic, willing it to Res so he could heal the prince.
Nothing happened.
I pushed harder, but it was like scraping the bottom of a dry well. A shudder reverberated through me, and I sucked in a deep breath, trying again and again and again.
Ericen’s hand fell over mine. “Thia.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. I can do this. I can do this!”
I ripped at the place where the energy had once resided inside me but found nothing.
It was empty.
“No,” I breathed.
My strength was fleeing my body like a river breaking its dam. Res wobbled, then dropped to his knees, exhausted from his burst of power. My vision blackened at the edges. Distantly, I was aware of the shadows encroaching. They enveloped me like a blanket.
As the last of my strength fled me, Ericen’s hand loosened on mine, and darkness claimed me.
* * *
I woke with a face full of feathers.
Shoving Res’s wing off my face, I let out a low groan and sat up. Pain lanced through my side, and I clutched reflexively at my injured ribs. The crow didn’t move, his breaths coming in heavy, snore-like rumbles. I blinked as my vision solidified.
I was in my room.
Sunlight poured in through massive windows, making Res’s feathers glimmer with iridescent light. It was quiet, the sort of silence that settled after a storm, after the rain had washed everything away.
My muscles felt like stone, my throat rough as sand. I lifted my shirt to reveal angry red skin and a thick, scabbed line bordered by dark purple bruising. Everything else ached right along with it.
Last night came tumbling back in flashes. The blood and gore of the battle. Razel’s pale skin lined with red. Ericen’s lips coated in blood.
My heart lurched. I struggled out from beneath Res, who lay draped across the bed like a blanket. My body protested as I swung my legs out, stumbling as my knees threatened to buckle. Using the wall as a guide, I struggled across my room to the door.
I’d barely reached it when it flew open. Kiva filled the door frame. For a split second, all I could think of was how clean she looked. Bandaged, washed of blood, her hair braided neatly. How long had I been asleep?
“What in the Sain—” she began. My legs gave. She caught me before I hit the ground.
“The battle,” I breathed. “The others.”
“You need to get back in bed.” Kiva slid her arms under me, hoisting me against her chest.
My head swam. The next moment, I felt the bed beneath me, and I fought to keep myself from going under. I barely caught her muttering something about Res being a useless guard chicken.
“The others,” I said again, but if she responded, I didn’t hear it.
* * *
The next time I woke, someone sat in a chair beside my bed.
At first, my vision blurred. Then relief burst through me in a fierce, heady rush.
Ericen’s feet were propped on the bed, one of Res’s wings draped over him as he massaged the joint with one hand. Res cooed softly, like a cat’s quiet purr.
He wasalive.
I choked on a sob of joy. Ericen leapt to his feet at the sound, Res following. He let out a low caw, the bond thrumming, and laid his head on my lap. Deliberately, he shuffled to the side, trying to crowd Ericen out. The prince refused to move, giving the bird a flat look.
