Then, he was flying. Back, back, until he slammed into rock.
His head spun as he blinked. Tried to focus as Brela’s head whipped toward him. Her eyes widened.
Gold burst from her as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
One moment, he felt the glittering warmth of a shield, the next, he was cold.
He looked down. Green and red oozed—gushed—from the gash through his abdomen. His upper leg looked worse, and he might have already been hallucinating the ripped muscle and bright bone underneath the running liquid.
Worse, he didn’t feel any of his lower body.
Somehow, he lifted his head and watched as Brela tore through one, two, three noglida who had been unfortunate enough to be stuck in the shield that shimmered around them.
His power, he realized. The protective magic that he’d strengthened in the cuffs she wore in her hair. That was nice. It was pretty. She was pretty.
He only blinked for a second, but when he opened his eyes, Brela was inches from his face, shouting something.
“Cason!”
Her eyes were wild, shoving something against his leg and trying to get his arms to cling to whatever was around his stomach. He didn’t have the energy. He just wanted a quick nap. He’d be good to go in a minute.
“Cason!” she shouted again, lifting his chin. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, okay?”
“Why are you crying?” he asked.
Brela swore and glanced to her left, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Fuck, Serill! Farr? Oh, gods.Oh, gods.”
Cason lifted his arm in front of him. When had his shirt turned red and wet? When had he grown another arm?
Gold shimmered as he looked up. Strange, six-legged lizards crawled over the top, claws and tail spikes slamming against the shield. More gathered on ledges at the bottom, scraping at gold and hissing. He could have sworn Lyle was riding one of the beasts.
His gaze dropped to his lap again. The green and red liquid seeped through the shirt that Brela had tied around his leg, more spilling from his stomach.
In front of him, Brela was sobbing, scrambling to keep his hands holding the shirt to staunch the bleeding. Her own wound ran freely, but she didn’t seem to notice it. “Serill! Please, please wake up,” she screamed. “Please, Farr!”
“Brela.”
Her head snapped to him. “Case. Case, please stay with me. This shield is too big. It’s not going to last forever.”
He squeezed her hand. “You… you called me Case.”
Tears fell faster. “Shit.”
“Where is… Serill?”
Her forehead pressed against his, her next words a long string of blubbering sounds. It took Cason a minute to decipher each one. “He’s unconscious. Farrah passed out from too much magic. Just stay with me until they wake up, okay? They can heal you and we’ll get out of this mess.”
“No.”
She pulled away, eyes wide. “Don’t you dare—“
“Get them out of here,” Cason grunted. He didn’t have the energy to point to the remaining three horses so he flashed his eyes toward them. “Protect… the prince. Please.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
So slowly, Cason called fire to his fingers. “I’ll buy you time.”
“Absolutely not,” she snapped.
