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Were we too late?
“Shit. Shit. I have to—”
“No. You stay here. Terra knows you’re bonded, but she says you gotta stay back. They need time and space to figure it out.”
“There is no time! Tell her it’s magik… they used magik on her.”
“Bich, the dragon, she’ll figure it out.”
“But—”
“Vos. Brother. Look at me. Look at me.”
I tore my gaze from that cluster of bodies, all hunched and moving in short, sharp, efficient jerks as they worked on Grace—what were they doing? Did they even know? What if they made it worse? What if the magik had worn off in one spot but not another? What if—
Gil gave my cheek a short slap and I blinked. He locked eyes with me and stepped between me and Grace.
“They’ve got this. They know it’s bad. They’re going to… do everything they can,” he said carefully.
I almost cursed him out. Gil was an optimist. He didn’t hesitate. And he definitely didn’t couch his words. But, as I gripped his arms and bared my teeth, ready to spit the accusation at him, there was a shout.
We both turned as that cluster of bodies rose and began trotting toward the castle, Terra at Grace’s head, snapping instructions at the others carrying her, holding her body flat. But the short glimpse revealed Grace’s eyes were still closed, and her face had lost all color.
“Why are they stopping?!” I barked. “The dragon—”
The greenscale, a beautiful female, whipped her wings high and shook her head.
‘Bich has done what she can,’ Kham interrupted in my head. ‘The wounds are strange, and she couldn’t heal all of them. But she has made progress and offered insight. The rest will be treated by Terra and the healers.’
A young Furyknight stood at Bich’s foreleg, his forehead lined and expression uncertain. I almost asked him. Almost demanded that they keep trying, but Gil gripped my arm and dragged me away before I could say anything.
“We need to—”
“You’re coming with me,” Gil said, the words clipped. “We’re following your mate, and we’re going to be there when they make her safe, right? You walk, and you pray, and you let me handle people.”
“I can handle people. They need to understand—”
“They understand, Vos. We all do. It’s bad. It’s really bad.” His eyes pinched with compassion. “The best thing you can do is breathe, and pray, and be ready to comfort her when she wakes up. Right?”
Gil stared me in the eye, jaw tight. And I saw it… the same look he had when we were walking into battle. The same expression when one of our brothers took a hit. Or a dragon was injured.
It was the expression that said the world was hard, and he was in it with me… and he sure as shit wouldn’t let me make it worse.
I nodded, and he nodded back, then dragged me toward the door into the castle, where the others were just disappearing with Grace. And suddenly I couldn’t move fast enough. I tried to sprint after them, but I took every step as if through thick mud. Every limb weighed down.
Then we stepped inside, and the sunlight was gone. For a moment, the darkness seemed absolute. The flickering flames of torches and candles mere pinpoints in a shadowy mass.
Outside, Kham and Koa raised a song that made my heart flutter. But they didn’t tell me if it was a song of hope or… something else. I’d just reached out to ask Kham—terrified of what his answer might be—when we rounded a corner in the hallway. The healers jogged, and though I didn’t have any trouble keeping up with them, my body still felt like I pushed through mud.
So, when I came up against something that jerked me back a step, I thought my strength had simply given up on me. My eyes were on Grace’s pale form being carried. It wasn’t until Gil cursed that I tore my eyes from her and realized the hand on my arm wasn’t his.
And it wasn’t just one.
The Tool in His Hands
~ VOSKI ~
“No. No. Not yet. I told the General I’d bring him when—” Gil started, but the guards shook their heads, and pushed him away from me, their royal tabards gleaming in the torchlight.
