I scan the area. The ice blocks everyone from view. No guards have shown up yet, but no doubt they’re on their way. If the queen gets any closer, the ice won’t save us from her voice—hopefully she’ll be delayed by having a reaction similar to Taran’s.But for how long?
I tug his arm, tears streaming down my face. “You need to get up. I can’t do this on my own.”
A blaze crackles in Taran’s eyes as he inhales sharply, teeth clenched. He wrests his arm free of my grip, clawing his way to Emlyn, every movement strained.
Emlyn lies coiled on his side, a tremor running through him as he gasps for air. Where the arrow protrudes from his chest, thick, crimson blood saturates his clothes.
No, no, no, no, no.It was just his shoulder. He should be fine.
I rush to his side. His skin’s cold to the touch.
Taran gets underneath him, pushing to his feet with Emlyn’s weight on his shoulder. Somehow, the two of them stagger down the far side of the hill. I hover nearby, terrified that trying to help will only make things worse.
Emlyn cries out when we reach the bottom. He’s almost entirely supported by Taran, and we’re miles from camp.
“I’m not gonna make it.” His words slur through lips tinged blue.
The force of Taran’s willbending plows into me. “Yes, you will. You will not die tonight.”
Emlyn grimaces, his face racked with pain. His steps steady, accepting some of his weight, but every move draws an agonized whimper. My heart splinters, thoughts turning to Reid. Hopefully he and Aerona succeeded, and he’ll forgive me for leaving. That branch cracking, Taran freezing—it hurts too much to imagine what would’ve happened if I’d stayed.
But Taran… He bends everyone we come across—frightened servant, confused guest, emboldened guard—demanding they leave. They do, scurrying away in the opposite direction, faster than their legs can carry them.
No one risks following.
Chapter 42
Caeo
My eyelids crack open as my swaying limbs settle. I hit the ground painfully, grunting as I look up at the fae who’s been carrying me.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his shoulder.
Yeah right.
I sit up, blinking as my head spins. It’s darker than I remember, the surrounding pine trees blocking what little sunlight remains.
“This is only a quick break,” Aerona says, somewhere behind me. “Be ready to move.”
The fae who carried me sits on the forest floor and pulls out a waterskin. Another fae sets Owena down much more gently than I was deposited, then joins the other in his water break. The rest set themselves up in a perimeter to keep watch.
My throat cracks as I watch them drink, mouth thick with sticky saliva.
“Here.” Reid’s hand appears in front of my face, holding a waterskin. I tear it from his grasp, pouring the cold, blissful liquid down my throat.
It washes through me like a flood in the desert, too fast. Not enough. My stomach clenches as it hits. I hold the next mouthful, letting it soak into my parched tongue. Letting its cool relief sink in. I’m about to chug the rest of it when Reid’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“Pace yourself, man.” He sets a basket of food on the ground in front of me; Aerona approaches Owena with a similar one, further off. “They’re really hoping you’ll be able to walk on your own once you’ve eaten.” He sits down next to me.
I’m already scarfing down an exceptionally pungent hunk of cheese, its overpowering flavor not enough to keep me from devouring it in under a minute. It’s not blood. That’s all that matters.
Concern flickers in Reid’s eyes as he watches me eat. “We should talk. Catch up.”
I swallow a mash of fruit I didn’t quite chew properly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” My gaze snags on the basket, tracking its weave as it goes round and round, in and out.
It takes another gulp to force the painful lump down. Reid hands me a waterskin, and I dump its contents into my mouth. Half drips along my chin, but at least it washes down the food. My head’s still spinning, but not as much as before.
“Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick,” Reid warns.
