“Drink this,” Meer said, tilting the cup to her lips before she could speak.
An herbaceous, bitter liquid washed over her tongue and shoved down her throat, causing her to sputter and grimace and moan as a cough shook loose more pains from where they’d been lodged deep within her.
Meer drew the cup away. “Oh, it’s not that bad.”
“No, it’s absolutely disgusting,” Kirk said.
“Shows what you know—”
“Magda . . .?” Kaelan’s voice was sleep-thick.
The coughing subsided. At least the brew had cleaned the foul taste from her mouth.
He propped up on his elbow, pushing her hair back from her face, brushing his thumb across her temple.
“You’re awake,” he said heavily. “I wasn’t sure you’d...” His lips pressed together. “How do you feel?”
“Awful,” she wheezed. “Where... what...?” Her head began to throb as she attempted to gather her mind together. “I died.”
“Find Damion,” Kaelan said to Meer. Then his gaze turned to Kirk. “Tell the others.”
Both brownies disappeared. Magda’s gaze had a moment, freed of Kaelan’s attention, to wander above his head.
Wooden beams glowed in the crackling firelight. The musty air of damp earth mingled with the oily warmth of wood smoke and crisp sweetness of cedar.
Kaelan’s head bowed suddenly, his cheek pressing to hers. “You’re not dead.”
She wasn’t sure if he was telling her or reassuring himself.
He drew back, eyes bright in the shadows, seeming to draw the fire into their depths. They were rung with heavy sleepless shadows, and yet, they were too intense. She had to drop her gaze to the space between them, where his chest hovered over hers.
“But I was . . .”
“Yes,” he said. “Lavana stabbed you in the throat with your ghast blade.” His fingers brushed low on her neck, just above her collarbone.
A cold pain shuddered through her. She grimaced, moaning.
“It still hurts?” he asked.
She nodded, or tried to, she wasn’t sure if she managed it or not.
“I’m sorry,” he said, as though it were somehow his fault. “I’ve been doing the best I can, but after the journey, bringing you here—”
“Where?” she asked.
“The human world,” he said, sitting back, giving her some more room to breathe. “I healed the wounds as best I could in the moment, but I had to get you out of there. I couldn’t do both at once. You were fading so fast, just hanging on. Whenever I stopped healing you, you’d start to slip away again.”
She didn’t know what to do with the pain straining his voice, tightening the edges of his face. She had too much pain of her own, twisting and throbbing through her, to process his too.
“You took me from the grounds,” she said, trying to focus only on filling in the gaps, “through the Shadow Realms.”
“I had to. You were dying.”
“I was dead, you mean.”
Another twitch of pain flicked across his brow. “Yes.”
“Then they saw you, the real you?”
