The delicate branch grows, turning into a thick, sharp dagger. I break off another piece, forming a second dagger. I turn and face the rest of the cambions, both wooden daggers in hand. But instead of coming after me, they all sprint toward Elle.
Horror, again, floods me as I watch them. I can’t fling my magic out and try to freeze them all. I’d hit Elle. The cambions surround Elle, climbing on top of corpses to get to her. She is a whirlwind of elemental magic and sharp weapons as she defends herself from all angles.
My mind is blank. I can’t think. I don’t know how the hell to help her.
Blinding pain shoots through my leg as my magic dies. I bite down a scream as I look down at my leg.
A little girl with holes for eyes stares up at me, her sharp teeth embedded in my ankle, but that’s not why I scream next. I watch, in utter horror, as a cambion jumps onto Elle’s back and sinks its teeth into her delicate neck.
She lets loose a blood-curdling scream, and the remaining cambions swarm her.
She goes down.
I erupt.
Chapter 39
The temperature in the room dropsinstantly. Ice shoots in every direction, racing from me to the cambions. I scream, desperately clawing at it, trying to pull it back.
No, no, no, no. Not Elle. Please no.
But the ice doesn’t touch her.
The cambions freeze instantly, each one frozen in place. With a single thought, I make them explode into icy dust. A layer of frost coats the ground.
Elle lays in a heap, blood pouring from her neck, the wound turning black. But she’s untouched by the ice. I run to her, slipping and sliding as I do. My dress gets caught under my feet, and I go sprawling.
No, no, no. Not Elle,is all I can think. I scramble toward her, cutting my hands on icy shards as I clumsily move toward her.
No.
No.
No.
Not.
Elle.
Her body is limp. I cradle her in my lap, trying desperately not to cry. Trying to think. If I could justthinkif I could justdo something.
Do something, Mae.
I rip the train of my dress, the beautiful floral applique torn apart as I do. I use it as a makeshift bandage and cover the wound, pressing on it hard to stop the bleeding.
She doesn’t even stir. But I feel it. A faint pulse.
She needs a healer. I let out a frustrated cry.
“Please,” I whisper, pleading to nobody.“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her.”
Soft footsteps fall behind me, and I whirl, ready to defend Elle with my life. But it’s just the stag. The ice melts for him with each step. His amber eyes survey Elle and me, both of us covered in her blood.
I stare at him as he approaches, each step graceful. He comes closer, nostrils flaring as he does. Finally, he lays across from me, careful not to bump Elle sprawled across my lap. The stag shifts closer to me and rests his head on Elle’s chest.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t save her. This is all my fault. She protected me, and I was too late,” I whisper, but a sob finally breaks through.
I need to get up, but I can’t leave Elle. I can’t leave her, and I can’t take her anywhere. I have no clue where to go that’s safe. I’ve never felt so helpless. My friend is dying in my arms, and there is nothing I can do to save her.
