Chapter 21 #2
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, steeled myself and returned to his side.
I focused on the task at hand and folded the remnants of my skirt as many times as I could while allowing me to cover the wound.
Once done, I gritted my teeth, shifted my weight from my knees to my palms and slowly applied pressure.
As if I gutted him myself, agony caught in Tarrin’s throat for the briefest moment before his eyes rolled back and his body went limp.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed, shifting more of my weight against the wound.
Despite using every last piece of my skirt, it took little time before the layers were soaked through, blood squishing between my fingers as I closed my eyes and bargained with whatever god would listen for this to work.
Long minutes passed, but eventually the bandages began to work. Afraid to move my hands, I sat there and listened to Tarrin’s heartbeat strengthen, if only by a fraction.
Eventually my arms shook, forcing me to ease the pressure, and as I lifted them I almost wept as the outermost layer stopped taking on new blood. Wanting to maintain pressure, I unwrapped my own wound, using the extra fabric to wrap around his torso.
Leaning back on my heels, I took Tarrin in. Not his wounds. Him. I hated what I saw. His thick, muscular frame having the opposite effect. Unable to contain my emotions, I buried my face in my hands and cried while reminding myself, he was still alive.
Knowing I still had work to do, I dragged my fingers through my hair and held on tight, collecting myself for what came next.
It was well past high noon, and sweat had long since coated my skin. The most concerning part was that Tarrin was dry as a bone.
Standing—and not entirely sure my plan would work—I took a deep breath, and pressed through to autumn.
Straddling the border, I pulled Tarrin through head-first, just enough so his bandages stayed dry.
Then, I bit the inside of my cheek as I pushed through the hardest part of this idiotic plan and straddled his sides.
Curling myself over him, I placed my hands on either side of his head to protect him from the rain.
This way the summer heat compensated for the drizzled chill from autumn and vice versa.
What I hadn’t accounted for was the border kicking against the intrusion, forcing me to my elbows.
It didn’t take long before I trembled from the effort, afraid the magic might crush us both.
Please help me, I begged of the spark.
The power refused to help, at least at first. Then, when I was about to collapse from exhaustion, a soft surge filled my veins and pulsed out from me, easing the burden off me.
Moments, or perhaps hours later, someone came.
“She’s over here.” Artton’s voice rang out, and I almost collapsed with relief.
“Get her out of there,” Caius barked.
Firm, gentle arms cradled me before pulling me from Tarrin.
“No!” I screamed. Or at least tried to. I was a rag doll against Artton’s chest as the sun caressed my chilled skin.
“I’ve got him,” a third voice said, one I couldn’t place.
“Fuck, did she rip a hole in the border and hold it?” Artton’s disbelief rumbled through his chest and into mine.
“Is she hurt?” Caius asked, ignoring the question.
Artton’s warm breath danced across my face as he said, “She’s freezing, and judging by the five-inch cut along her forearm that isn’t healing, she’s probably tapped from that little stunt.”
“Can’t believe she cut herself like that, for him,” the third voice—Sidrick—said. “Here.”
Seconds later I was clad in an oversized shirt that went well below my knees.
“Is any of that blood hers?” Caius asked.
“Other than her arm, I don’t think so,” Artton supplied. “Looks like she didn’t realize her hands were stained with his blood when she rubbed her face. There’s dried blood all over where the rain hadn’t washed it off yet.”
Finding an ounce of strength, I fisted Artton’s shirt. “Help him. Please, Artton,” I croaked.
“What did she say?” Caius asked.
“She wants us to help him,” Sidrick answered for Artton, his bulk shading me from the sun.
Caius’ slow steps crunched on the desert ground, and I tilted my head in his direction. His tempestuous eyes were still, as if pained. “I don’t have that kind of power, Nyleeria. Not for these kinds of wounds. And I’ve never…” He shook his head. “I’ve only healed fae before.”
“No.” The word flew out of me as I twisted in Artton’s grip toward Tarrin hard enough that I slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground.
“Fuck,” Artton bellowed, but I didn’t care. I just pulled myself forward.
Now by Tarrin’s side, I turned my watery gaze to Caius. Not willing to lose him, I slammed my hand down on the ground. “Heal him,” I bellowed at the High Lord.
Caius stiffened but didn’t say a word, and I didn’t miss Artton placing himself in a position that he could step in if he needed.
The High Lord looked to Tarrin, then back to me. Taking a small step forward, he knelt down on one knee. “I wish I could, Nyleeria. I truly do.”
“Please,” I begged, dignity be damned.
“I’m so very sorry.”
“Try. Just try. Please,” I cried, raising my fists and banging them against his chest. “Please.”
Caius weathered it. My pleas. My tears. My ineffectual fists.
Hopeless, I turned away from him, pulled Tarrin’s head onto my lap, and stroked his hair before leaning my head down to his, touching our foreheads together. “Please. Please. Please,” I continued to whisper, over and over again.
Artton shuffled closer. “Caius, we could always ask Myron.”
“He doesn’t know about her.”
“He’s going to eventually,” Sidrick countered.
“I’m not even sure Myron could save him—it wouldn’t be worth telling him and straining the relationship between our courts.”
“Please… please… please…”
“I don’t think we have another choice,” Sidrick said.
“I don’t get your meaning.”
“I’m not sure she’ll survive another loss, Caius. There’s more to consider here than Tarrin. She’s… she’s been through enough. We can at least try.”
I held my breath in the silence as I continued to hold my forehead to Tarrin’s.
Caius sighed. “Okay, I’ll try. The two of you get them back to the palace. I’ll apprise Myron of the situation, but it will be his call if he’s willing to help, and there’s no guarantee it will work.”
“I know.” Sidrick’s voice led me to believe that he thought it a fool’s errand, but he was willing to try.
Without a word, Caius valenned away.