Vexx eyes Rhonin, and evenIfeel the tension vibrating between the two men.
The general turns his attention to Hel. Rhonin lets go of her wrist, and she stands there, inches behind him, cowering like a beaten puppy.
“You’d make a good soldier, girl,” Vexx says. “If we broke you.” He takes her chin and lifts her face from behind her hair. “Perhaps now you’ll know better than to steal from me.”
Her eyes slide sideways, finding me. She has a split lip, and her right eye is bruising. If Rhonin…
Gods. Everything inside me vibrates. I could explode with hatred. Hel has endured so much. She can’t endure more. I vow that I won’tlether endure more, and that I’ll get us out of this mess and take her far from such peril.
As if to remind me how little help she needs, she throws a powerful punch, landing her fist across the general’s face. His headsnaps, and he stumbles, and when he turns his wide, stunned eyes back to Hel, they’re filled with rage.
He grabs the front of her jacket, spins her around, and plants his booted foot into the small of her back, kicking her down the hillside. Gasping, I lunge for her.
This time, I shake loose from my captor’s hold, but it’s too late. I can only watch in cold horror as Hel tumbles down the rugged, snow-covered slope and collides with a boulder. Her spine bows from the impact, and she falls still and lifeless.
The scent of her coming death reaches me. I inhale deep, absorbing the aroma of a forge fire, sweet wine, and meadow grass in the spring.
I dart toward her before anyone can stop me, imagining her fighting, swinging her sword, living her life somewhere far from the Northlands. I see her bright smile, the heat that lives in her eyes, the flush of sparring and youth in her cheeks.
The moment I’m at her side, I close my eyes, searching for her strands of life. They’re there, faint and still golden but fading.
“Loria, Loria, anim alsh tu brethah, vanya tu limm volz, sumayah, anim omio dena wil rheisah,”I sign.
I work fast, weaving her beautiful strands in my mind, pouring every bit of myself into the healing until her dimming threads begin to reform. My love, anger, sadness, fear…They all flood my magick.
“Loria, Loria, anim alsh tu brethah, vanya tu limm volz, sumayah, anim omio dena wil rheisah. Loria, Loria, anim alsh tu brethah, vanya tu limm volz, sumayah, anim omio dena wil rheisah.”
An arm tightens around my waist. Suddenly, I’m torn from my thoughts, the strands of Hel’s existence slipping like threads of silk through my fingers as I’m tossed aside in the snow.
Half-dazed and head swimming, I rise on my elbows, wondering if I did enough.
Vexx and Rhonin hover over Hel.
She’s coughing. Breathing. Moving.
Living.
Another tiny death flutters in my chest, an unwanted ending conquered.
Weakly, Hel looks at me with those impossibly dark, brilliant eyes.The wounds on her face—the open and bleeding lip, the bruising eye—are gone.
The general jerks his head around, spearing me with a glare that stabs straight to my core. “You’re a healer?” He moves toward me, hands clenched at his sides, once again delivering the sensation of an approaching storm. “That’s why she bore no mark from my fist and why Un Drallag lived, without wounds, after what the prince did to him in the vale.” Looking down at me, his eyes narrow. “Did you bring him back from the dead?”
I shake my head. I didn’t, and I couldn’t have, but I know where this is going. The Eastlanders want Thamaos raised from the dead, and here am I, a woman who just saved her friend from death’s grasp. It’s just like Nephele said. The power living inside me makes me valuable.
And valuable things get locked away.
Vexx will never believe me, no matter what I say, and already, I see his mind working behind his eyes, piecing together all the ways I might be of use.
I force myself to my feet, wanting to run or head for Alexus, but I’m instantly caught by Rhonin’s big hand and hauled around to face the general.
His thin lips lift into a slit of a smile. “Oh, am I ever going to be rewarded for this.” Vexx looks at Rhonin. “Bring her.”
The red-haired brute obeys, handling me like a child’s plaything. “What about the other one?” he asks as we head down the hill.
Vexx turns and takes me by the shoulders, sighing with irritation like Hel’s life is but an afterthought. “Get up there and slit her throat. I’m really fucking tired of people who won’t die.”
Rhonin doesn’t hesitate. I watch him march away, drawing his blade.
