Not allowing her to shout her gratitude, I slipped into the alleyway to my left. Boots drumming against the cobblestone, I made quick workof navigating the small village. Weaving in between homes and shops, the shoreline quickly fell into my line of sight. As I picked up my pace, something else caught my attention.
No,someone.
Lying in a heap, crimson dyed his shirt with its deadly ink. Hair soaked to the point that a bloodied puddle had formed beneath him. Those dark locks immediately registered, and as soon as I caught sight of his paling, moonlight-lit skin, I moved without hesitation.
It only took three steps before I was on my knees, fingers slipping to the side of his throat as my attention settled on his face—Syoran Kao, Caspian’s right-hand.
My chest ached at the fickle thought of my ex-best friend, the words we’d shared before I left him behind settling in my gut like a rotting, festering wound. As my jaw feathered to negate the rising ache of guilt, a soft pulse jumped beneath my fingertips. It wasn’t strong, but it was notable enough to prove that, while he was unconscious and on the brink of bleeding out, he was still alive.
“Gods, what the fuck are you doing, Alastair?” I grumbled to myself, blowing out a lengthened sigh.
It was a valid question considering the man I was contemplating rescuing had taken my place beside Caspian. Syoran Kao walked alongside the man whom I’d fought to fight, fought tokillfor years, and here I was, like a pitiful fucking fool, knee deep in good grace.
I already accepted that there were convoluted emotions lingering beneath the surface, ones that tied me to Caspian in ways no one would be able to understand. Though outside of that complex feeling, there was an opportunity. For the time Syoran stood beside Caspian, there had to be some level of knowing, some insight he could offer that would push us toward some kind of answer. Or possibly… even some understanding about the captain of theBloodmarkedand what secrets he’d kept buried.
There had been a glint in Caspian’s usual hardened stare. It was an expression I’d only caught once before, and that had been a moment so fragile, so… intimate, that I’d brushed it out of my mind, convinced he’d neverfeellike that again. It was an unspoken plea, a desire to be seen, heard,rescued.But from what, I didn’t know.
Cursing under my breath, I swept both hands up and under Syoran’s armpits. With a grunt and a pull, I leaned him back against my chest before moving to shift myself, which seemed to be the shift worthy of waking him.
A rasped groan was his response, his eyes fluttering. Heavy-lidded, he struggled to focus on my presence, and his brow lifted with quizzical observation. “A-Alastair Seridean, by which god do I owe the grace?”
Eyes rolling, I slipped my arm beneath his shoulder and hoisted him to sit up. “I suppose you can thank Jaskor, as you, my friend, are shit out of luck. Or maybe in luck, considering I’m here.”
“To finish me off?” he laughed weakly, head lolling.
“As enjoyable as the idea is, no.”
My answer was enough of a surprise to elicit a more lively reaction. Head snapping toward me, he blinked once. “What?”
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Could you save us both the hassle and stand up? I don’t mind carrying you to the ship, but you’d be doing me a favor if you elected to use your legs for even a fraction of a second.”
“Captor,” he huffed, his weight sinking with refusal. “You can… leave me here to die instead. I rather enjoy the sight of a skyline over a… cell.”
Rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, I exhaled. “No. Not in a fucking cell. There are things… Oh, fucking hell, Kao. Get up.”
“Things?”
“You’re going to continue this discussion while you’re actively bleeding out?”
“Yeah, I am,” he hissed as I adjusted, a hand immediately shooting toward his stomach. “Y-You’re our crew's rival. You expect me to blindly trust…you?”
“I am not asking for trust, but if you wish toliveand have any chance of finding Caspian again, then I need you to get off your ass.” With another yank, the resistance I was meeting seconds prior lessened. “We can’t?—”
“What do you mean? Where is Cas?”
Cas.
The name I used to shout, cry out, and moan.
“Well, considering the royal guard is balls deep in Veilmar now, who knows where Vayne is. I’m sure you’re familiar, but he has the ability to vanish when he desires to.” Tossing his arm around the back of my neck, I shifted from my knees to my feet. “The king sent for him specifically, which means there is something Marellan is planning, and as much as I wouldloveto sit here and debrief you on everything, you won’t get any further information if you aredead.”
With one hoisted yank, I shouldered him from where he sat and dragged him upright with no issue. Shifting his arm to ensure he wouldn’t slip from my hold, I wrapped one hand around his waist and the other around the wrist dangling from my right shoulder. I took a leveling inhale, ignoring the pain roaring through my own body before I took a step forward, guiding him toward the shoreline.
He fell silent for the first half of the excursion, head hung, and chin settled against his chest. Part of me contemplated stopping to see if he had fallen into Elaros’s grasp, but the other demanded I push forward. One second longer, another moment of contemplation, and he could easily slip from this plane and into the next. And while I didn’t necessarily have an issue with the possibility, he still possessed a well of knowledge I wished to explore.
Boots transitioning from cobblestone to wood, the creak of the knotted surface beneath us seemed to jostle him enough. “Hm…”
“Oh, good,” I answered, my breath slightly fractured due to carrying his weight for the majority of our return. “You’re still alive.”
