9. Chapter 9 #2
“Absolutely not,” Cyrus said quickly as Orion shook his head and said, “No, not at all.”
Her smile returned.
Cyrus and Orion glanced at each other, then followed Essandra to her workroom.
She picked up a small copper bowl with a mixture of herbs that had already been finely ground, and she ground them some more.
“Have you figured out what you need me to do yet?” Orion asked.
“Just stand there and… catch him if he passes out. Or if…” Her words trailed off as she looked up from the herbs and paused. “I think we should get Teron too.”
“I’ll grab him,” Orion said, and left the room.
“Why would we need Teron?” Cyrus asked. They hadn’t needed him before. In fact, Teron’s healing magic had never been able to help Cyrus with things like this before.
She still worked the herbs in the bowl. If she kept at it, there wouldn’t be anything left of them. Was she nervous?
“Do you think Everan could come as well?” she asked.
Now she was making Cyrus nervous. “Why do you need Everan?”
Orion stepped back into the room, with Teron just behind him.
“Teron,” Essandra said. “Thank you for coming.”
“Why do we need Teron?” Cyrus asked again.
She clutched the bowl. “Well…” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m not sure if I’m bonding my sister to you and the living, or if I’m bonding you to her and the dying.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you might need Teron.” She bit her lip again. “The bond might make you suffer the same injuries she did when she died.”
Orion glanced back and forth between them. “An injury from what?”
She quieted, sobering. “From a blade.”
“I’m not afraid of a blade,” Cyrus said, but his light attempt at humor made no impression.
Worry blanketed her face, and she backed slightly. “You know what, I don’t… I don’t think I’ve thought this through all the way. I’m not sure exactly what will happen.”
“Well, we’re about to find out,” Cyrus said.
She shook her head. “I-I don’t even know if I’m doing it right, if I’m reading the spell right.” She clutched the copper bowl in her hands, staring at it.
“Teron can check it.”
She nodded nervously. “Right.” She got the book and handed it to the healer.
Teron scanned the page and then looked at each of the ingredients laid out across her table. “Where is the myrna?”
“It’s already mixed in. Here.” She motioned to the bowl. “I only had two leaves, so I just used one.”
He nodded. “That should be enough. It looks right to me. Just the serium now.”
“You see?” Cyrus said. “It’s all in order.”
She swallowed. Slowly, she reached into the glass house the serium still sat in and plucked a leaf, then she tore it in half and dropped it into the bowl. She emptied the bowl into a small cup and poured in some steaming water, brewing it.
“You should sit,” she told him.
He doubted that was necessary, but he took to a floor cushion.
She lowered herself in front of him and held out the cup for him. Her hands were shaking.
He took it, but as he lifted it to his lips, she grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“Wait,” she said. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.” He moved again to drink it.
“Actually, I don’t want you to.” She tried to take back the cup, but he pulled it away.
“No—we’ve gotten this far,” he told her. “It’s worth a try.”
“This could hurt you.”
“I get hurt all the time”—he cut her a smile—“mostly by you. Teron’s here. It’s worth trying to see if it works.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve changed my mind.”
“This could bring your family back.”
She stilled. Her eyes welled.
“Let me at least try,” he said.
She shook her head again.
“Essandra,” he said softly.
She rocked slightly. “Just… slowly,” she whispered.
Cyrus drank down the warm tea, and as he did, she whispered words he didn’t understand.
She stared at him, her breaths short and shallow, her eyes deep with worry.
He finished and handed the cup back to her. She took it but sat frozen, still staring.
“How long before we know if it worked?”
“I—” She rocked back and forth a little. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said again. “We might not know until the final spell, with the cup.”
That was a long time to wait. But… “All right,” he said.
They sat in silence, waiting.
“Am I going to pass out if I stand?” he asked.
“I don’t… I don’t think so.”
He got to his feet. And felt fine.
Essandra scrambled up with him.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I guess… you start working on the next step.”
She said nothing, her eyes still wide and watching, but she nodded.
Suddenly, a searing pain cut through his stomach. Then another came across his chest. He stumbled back, looking down to see blood seeping through the front of his tunic.
His eyes found Essandra again as he swayed. Horror etched her face. His strength left him, and he sank to his knees.
“Teron!” Essandra screamed as she rushed forward.
Cyrus crumpled backward, but Orion caught him.
“I got you,” Orion told him. “I got you.”
Orion said something else, but the words weren’t making sense to him.
“Cyrus!” Essandra cried. She cradled his head as they lowered him to the floor.
He felt Teron’s healing warmth, but it wasn’t enough. The darkness was closing in.
“Cyrus! Cyrus, stay with me.” Essandra’s voice was fading. She clasped the sides of his face. “No! No! Look at me.”
He tried to focus his eyes on her, but he couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.
“Cyrus, look at me!”
He tried again to focus on her face.
“Help him!” she screamed at Teron. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t need to be sorry. He didn’t want her to be sorry.
“Teron,” she begged.
Teron said something, but Cyrus couldn’t make sense of it.
His vision blurred and then went dark. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed.
“Cyrus!”
Slowly, the pain subsided.
“Cyrus!”
Finally, he was able to suck in a breath, and he desperately gulped in air. The rush of dryness stung. Despite Teron’s touch, a needling pain still snaked its way down his chest. Not pain of the body. Pain of the spirit.
He opened his eyes to find Essandra, Orion, and Teron leaning over him. He gave himself another moment. Slowly, his senses came back to him. “Does this mean it worked?” he was finally able to ask. His voice was hoarse.
“Who cares!” she practically shouted. “Are you all right?”
“Did it work?” he asked again.
She nodded as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“Gods, Cyrus,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I can’t even think about that right now. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m all right.” He pushed himself to sit, and Orion helped him. Cyrus’s vision darkened for a moment, and he paused until the lightheadedness passed.
She clutched him tighter. “Easy.”
“Help me stand.”
“I think you should wait.”
“Help me,” he said again.
Orion looped his arms under Cyrus’s and helped him to his feet as Essandra gripped him tightly.
Once standing, he felt even better. The lingering weakness seemed more in his mind than in his body.
Essandra’s eyes dropped to his chest, and he looked down at his bloodstained tunic, which had been torn open.
Her eyes teared up again.
“I didn’t like this tunic anyway,” he said.
She shook her head. “This was a mistake. There’s a reason this has never been done.”
He gripped her shoulders, making her look at him. “You will do what no one else has ever done, because you are willing to try what no one else has ever tried. As am I. I promise you, you will see your family again.”