“Taliesin,” I murmur. “Are you all right?”
“They tried to take you away,” he says roughly, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “And I wasn’there.”
“Except you were,” I whisper. “Seeing you gave me strength.”
“I should have been here,” he says stubbornly.
“You were. In all the ways that matter.”
His eyes close briefly at that,like the words slice deeper than any blade.
He stumbles forward. I catch him around the waist, and Gethin and Brioc arrive to take his arms. Together, we help him to the wagon, where he lies on his back, uneven breath spilling from his blue-tinged lips.
Arianell paces nearby, her gaze unfocused.
I step closer. “Arianell…could you find some food for him?”
She blinks, like she didn’t realize I was there. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She smooths down the front of her tunic as if it were an apron. Her hands come away smeared with mud, and she stares at them like she doesn’t understand why.
While she searches through the saddlebags, I climb into the wagon and curl up beside Taliesin. I tell him everything that happened as though he didn’t witness it all from a distance. He says nothing at first. Then he merely pulls me against his chest and holds me there.
I close my eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat and letting the scent of leather, ice, and rowan wash over me. Beneath it lingers river water and smoke.An ache constricts my heart as another image comes unbidden to my mind. Us, just like this. My head on his chest. His arms tucked tight around me. The world beyond us is a wild, tangled mess, but at least we have each other.
As much as I wish I could lie here forever, I can’t. Because that wild mess of a world needs me, and I know exactly what I can do to help it.
“Will you be all right here?” I ask.
His arms tighten around me a fraction before loosening. “Yes, go on. I just need rest.”
I leave him there in the wagon, though it feels like I’m wrenching one of my limbs away. After jumping down, my boots crunching over pebbles, I weave through the small battlefield. The fire still crackles through the woods and smoke clogs the air, but the bank is mostly untouched. My companions have already gathered their dead. They lie near the bank in a line, eyes closed, traitor marks illuminated beneath the sun.
Someone has folded their hands across their chests. Someone else tucked cloaks beneath their heads like pillows.
I wish I could rub the marks from their skin. They are no traitors to the Kingdom of Gwalia.
As I stand there gazing at them, Gwenydd slowly approaches. A wetness coats her cheeks, and she doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Blood stains her tunic, and her hands shake.
“Angharad.” She grasps my hands. “Pleasesave them. Bring them back to life.”
I bite the insides of my cheek as pain flickers through my heart. I’ve never had anyone ask me to use my powers with so much need. For information, yes. For ‘necessity’, always. Never with a grief that seems to shudder through every inch of her body.
“I wish I could,” I whisper, “but it won’t stick.”
She grinds her jaw and glances away. “You knew Meurig, at least.”
“Not well enough. He might live a few days, but…I’m afraid the second loss might hurt you worse than the first.”
“Why?” she grinds out, then flicks her pain-filled gaze back to me. “Why is your magic like that?”
“I don’t know.” My hands hang heavily by my sides. I hate feeling useless. “I wish I did.” Then I reach out and grip her arm. “But I promise I will do everything in my power to make them pay for this.”
“An oath,” she murmurs, inclining her head. “I will take it.”
As she backs away, I turn to the dead Rhyfelwyr that still litter the riverbank. I find the one I killed and kneel beside him, my stomach twisting at the stench of death already emanating from his body. Even now, part of me remains back in the wagon beside Taliesin, away from all this.
I grasp his throat. “Anadl einioes.”
Leaning back on my heels, I wait, only wincing once when a pain shoots through my brow. A distant memory crumbles, butI try not to focus on that now. This will be worth it. It has to be. Otherwise, I’m tearing pieces from myself for nothing.
