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The enclosed coach was just as overstimulating as The Dark, with Cali groaning and crying in pain, and her cousin yelling words I chose to ignore. I was used to the chaos of battle, but not so much the noise—the king and Lady Vi had never felt much like talking after an encounter with The Dark.

But I couldn’t let anything unnerve me, not now. Not when Cali needed me.

This was no time for civilities. I hiked up the hem of Cali’s skirt until I found the wound on her upper thigh. My blood went cold, assessing it. It leaked black, a sight that long ago would have made me sick but now felt as normal as breathing. It encircled nearly her entire thigh, her bone clearly visible. My God. She was blessed to still have her leg. Instruments were useless within The Dark, but it would have made things so much easier now. If Cali was in too much pain to hit the correct tones, I wasn’t sure if—

A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I finally heard Anise when she said, “Why are we still sitting here, so close to The Dark?”

“Shut up!” I snapped, and the woman jolted, pressing her hand against her chest as she gaped at me. “You useless barnacle. If you’re not going to help, sit there and shut up.”

She fell back into her seat, grasping at words and finding none.

She was technically a knight, pretending to be a squire. In my eyes, she was neither. She could help Cali if she wanted to, and yet she sat across from me in stunned silence, as if I had struck her. I had a mind to throw her out of the coach and make her walk back.

Focus, Beric.

I turned my attention to my knight. We were in no danger, clear of The Dark—it never extended beyond its own border, and I refused to subject Calliope to a long bumpy ride home. Not in this condition.

Cali sobbed in pain as I shifted her upper body, resting her head on my arm. I wrapped my arm around her chest and gripped her shoulder, securing her back against me.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I whispered as she groaned. I tugged her skirt up further so it wouldn’t block my view.

I ran my fingers on the raw skin beside the wound, and Cali kicked her other leg and cried out. I gripped her closer so she wouldn’t fall off the bench, feeling sick to my stomach.

“It hurts,” she sobbed, as if begging for it to be over. She grabbed my arm, and there was barely any strength in her grip. That was concerning.

“I know it hurts, my lady. But you’re the only one who can heal a wound inflicted by The Dark. Should we wait until we’re back at the palace where I can give you something to numb the pain?”

I paused to give her a moment, assessing her breathing, the way she trembled from the pain. No. She absolutely couldn’t wait.

And her pained whimpers hurt my heart too much to allow it.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay.” But my words weren’t working. So I whistled a sparrow song, until I could feel her body calming against me. The only thing that didn’t relax was her grip on my arm, her nails digging into my skin through my thin shirt.

“I’ll help you,” I said. “But you have to heal yourself.”

“I can’t.”

I can’t? That was her response? The girl I’d hand-chosen to protect the king, who had his very life in her hands?

“You’re the God King’s knight, Cali,” I said, but perhaps anxiety and frustration made my voice a bit harsh. “Can’t isn’t an option.”

That seemed to knock the sense back into her, and I imagined if she was in a better state of mind she might’ve even accused me of being bossy. Instead, she began to sing.

Her voice was weak, but the singing seemed to distract her from the pain.

I massaged around her wound with my thumb, breaking down the gunk, but there was no way I could hold the wound closed properly with one hand. It would scar, but at least she would be whole.

I didn’t know how long we kept at it. Time didn’t matter, only Cali. My head was beginning to hurt from using too much magic at once, but I had to help her as much as I could. Her voice was still so weak.…

Gradually her voice became stronger, and I backed down with my magic, forcing myself not to give in to the fatigue—not until the open wound was finally healed, knitted into a scar. Only then did I abandon her wound to wrap my other arm around her waist, if only to anchor myself. My head was throbbing, burning, and I needed to catch my breath, but there was no time to comfort myself when my knight was in need.

I held her perhaps too tightly, too desperately. But using my magic had fatigued me to the point of muscle weakness and I feared loosening my grip and dropping her. And she kept hold of my arm just as desperately, as if she might faint without me as an anchor. For a moment, we stayed that way, the coach silent aside from our panting breaths.

But my knight was healed and whole, which meant it was no longer appropriate to hold her in this way. Still, she clearly needed comfort, the way she gripped me close. It felt wrong to let go when she needed me.

Had I ever felt this protective of Lady Vi? The answer was easy: no. She’d spent so much time treating me as a nuisance, sometimes I wished she’d be injured, just to see if the pain would make her more sympathetic.

It never did.