One drop hits my tongue. Just enough to make me ten times thirstier than I was before.
I collapse onto the ground and stare up at the gray sky until it goes black around the edges.
CHAPTER13
I sit up quickly and blink away the black spots in my vision. Lying down was a bad idea; if I do it again, I’m afraid I won’t get back up. A warm rush of blood trails down my arm. I lift my hand and my head spins when I see blood dripping off my fingertips.
I push myself into a standing position and sway on my feet. The world glitches, a slow-motion catastrophe. I shake my head and time trips over itself to catch up. Henry is in front of me, peeling off his soaking-wet shirt and pressing it to my arm. I blink and he’s gone. Comet is running frenzied circles around me until Victoria pulls him away. I open my mouth to yell at her but I can’t hear anything except waves crashing against rocks. My head aches, my throat burns, and my soaking-wet clothes are plastered to my freezing body.
The shirt does nothing to stem the flow of blood. I drop it.
Instead, I tear a clump of crimson-stained moss from the ground and hold it against my wound.
I step forward on wobbly legs and almost trip over a rock. The rugged shoreline stretches for miles in either direction. Inland, however, the moss becomes tall grass and eventually a dense forest that slopes upward into a mountain.
I don’t see a single sign of human life.
(Devastating. I was hoping we’d washed up on the shores of Majorca.)
I pull the moss away from my cut and nearly faint. We need to get out of here immediately.
Reggie is on his knees trying to start a fire with damp moss and a cigarette lighter. I stumble over to him. “When are we getting rescued?” I ask.
“I’m working on it,” he says.
“Will it be soon?”
“We’re with His Majesty and the two people next in line for the throne. What do you think?” he snaps.
I think the sky is empty, the island is deserted, and that moss is never going to ignite.
“I think I’m in trouble.” Since we’re not on the verge of being rescued, I need to figure this out myself. Theo told me to find Winston, so I trudge to where he’s lying near the edge of the cliff. His eyes are screwed shut and his teeth are clamped hard on a stick.
Victoria is transporting handfuls of clothing up the cliff from the rescued luggage down below, and Naomi and Henry are using wet pants to tightly wrap Winston’s broken leg. A first aid kit lies on the ground next to him.
“No one was going to tell me about this?” I motion to the kit with my injured arm. A wave of nausea rolls through me.
Naomi looks up from the bodyguard and gasps. “Oh my gosh, Wren. Sit down! Your cut didn’t look this bad in the water.” Her eyes fly to Henry’s. “Where’s Brooke?”
“Reggie sent her to look for firewood.”
Naomi swears. “This is bad. She looks awful.”
“Funny, because I’ve never felt better.” My lips and fingertips tingle numbly. I breathe slowly through my mouth to avoid blacking out. I don’t know if it’s dehydration or a panic attack or blood loss or all of the above.
“Stop joking. It takes too much energy.”
“My sarcasm fuels me.” The spongy moss reminds me of a bed. I allow myself to lie down with the help of Naomi’s insistent hands. I feel a tongue on my ankle.
“Actually, you lose a liter of blood every time you say something snarky,” Naomi says.
“She’d already be dead.” Theo’s voice cuts through the din. His face hovers above mine. Icy water drips from his hair into my eyes, but I can’t look away. He lookspissed.(American version.) “Why hasn’t she been stitched up yet?”
“We’re working on it,” Henry says. I glance at him. He’s attempting to thread a needle with an unsteady hand, and my stomach churns. I close my eyes.
“Work faster,” Theo orders. “You all right, Wheeler?”
“Mm-hmm.”
