“Go!” Ezryn cries.
The last I see is the brown wolf swiping with a bloodied claw before the two monstrous beasts shimmer out of sight.
I can’t think. There’s no time to revel in how my life has changed in minutes. Lucas is lying on the ground, his wails now a guttural sputter. With trembling hands, I crawl closer. His pooled blood splashes around my knees.
His insides are outside, eyes glassy and unseeing. Each breath sounds wet.
He’s dying, I think. I feel nothing, not sorrow or pity. Just a fact.Lucas is dying.
But I can save him.
I sense a presence behind me and look up to see Ezryn. Regardless of this strange outfit, he has the aura of a knight in shining armor. “Help me,” I breathe. “I owe him a life-debt. Please. Ez.”
For once, I’m glad I can’t see Ezryn’s face. By the way his body stills, I can only imagine his disapproval. And why not?
Lucas is a monster.
But Farron isn’t.If Lucas dies, Farron will never forgive himself for killing someone. I can’t let him live with that.
“Ezryn,” I whisper, “you can heal him.”
Ezryn snarls under his breath in a language I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he’s cursing me out. But he tugs off his gloves and places his hands straight inside the gaping wound. “I need something to staunch the bleeding. Hurry.”
I look around the hideous gift shop and jerk a couple of brightly colored Orca Cove hoodies off the racks and run them back to Ez.
A feeble green light shimmers around his hands as Ezryn holds the fabric to the ragged flesh.
Lucas’s blood seeps through my leggings as I kneel beside Ez.Ezryn came for me. They all did.
Well, not all of them. Tears spring anew to my eyes, and I hastily wipe them away.
I don’t want to distract him, but I can’t help myself. I reach out and touch his brightly colored jacket.
“What are you doing?” he murmurs.
“Making sure you’re real,” I whisper back.
He turns and looks at me. My throat clenches. His goggles are too darkly tinted to see his eyes, but I feel the intensity of his gaze.
He reaches out a hand, his fingertips shimmering with magic and blood, and touches my arm.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Making sure you’re real.”
“Rosalina? Rosalina!” a voice booms, and we both turn to the doorway. A man charges in, gasping for breath.
Immediately, Ezryn lunges for the knife, but I fling a hand to his chest. “That’s my father!”
“Oh.” Ezryn releases it and turns back to Lucas.
Blood runs down a gash on my father’s temple.
“Papa!” I rush to him. “Are you okay?”
“I may be old, but I can hold my own against a couple of thugs.” He practically puffs out his chest. Then his eyes leave mine. “My god, what happened here?” He’s not looking at Lucas dying on the floor or the large man in nineties ski wear with his hands literally inside Lucas’s body.
He’s staring at the shimmering portal.
