Chapter 5 Eres #2
Nothing. Probably for the best, considering what comes next. I reach for the first stake, leaning over her and forcing down my disgust as I wrap my hand around it.
The small noise makes me pause. Looking down, I feel my heart stutter again.
Her eyes are open. Hooded, flame-filled irises, a little unfocused, stare at me. The fire within them flickers around the solid black of her pupil. They shift, taking in the way I’m stretched over her, and she begins to struggle, tiny noises in the back of her throat giving away her panic.
“I stitched up your stomach.” The words come out softer than I meant, and her eyes fly to my face again before tracing up my arm, to where I hold the stake. Dark brows draw together. “I’m going to take these stakes out so I can look at your hands. Do you understand?”
Her breathing is harsh, disjointed, noisy in the silence that surrounds us. She doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
The cold from her soaked clothing steeps into my chest, but I don’t move. I need her to understand. “I’m going to help you.”
I wait for her to respond. She presses her lips together, her breathing heavy before she nods. Her eyes close, and I feel her body tense beneath me. Bracing.
I pull the stake smoothly from her palm, and a choked cry locks in her throat as she arches. Catching her twisting arm, I pull her palm toward me, inspecting the damage.
“Careful,” Eldritch murmurs. He’s watching. All of them are.
My head shakes. “She was quilled. No luminth.”
At this moment, we’re a far bigger threat to her than she is to us, and she knows it. Her eyes open again, liquid gathering at the edges and trickling out as she looks at her ruined hand.
She’ll never cast again, most likely. A Lightbringer with no luminth to call on.
Unless I can fix it.
I busy myself by pulling my satchel close.
She watches with those witch-fire eyes, tracking every movement as I rummage for a bandage and ointment to stop the wound from festering.
The bleeding has slowed, hampered by the cold, and my frown deepens as I wrap my fingers around the edges of hers.
The color tells me enough. She might lose them.
My hands are far bigger than hers. Tearing off my glove, I carefully ease her bandaged hand inside it.
“She doesn’t need her hands to talk.” Nythen’s face appears beside me. He stares down at her, assessing, and she shrinks back into the ground. “How much longer?”
“As long as it takes.” I grit the words out, and when she looks at me again, there’s something that might be betrayal lurking in her gaze. Her jaw firms, and she turns her face to the side as I reach for her left hand. “Take a deep breath for me.”
Her fingers aren’t as dark on this hand, but my other glove slips over them just the same. I avoid her gaze until I’m finished. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
She’s shaking her head, but my thumb brushes her lower lip. “Somebody hit you. Here.”
It’s swollen, faint bruising visible beneath the dried blood that still gives off a little light. I carefully rub my thumb over the small wound, checking for anything inside, but her lips part, and I stop.
What are you doing, Eres?
Our eyes meet once more.
I don’t know. But I know that the thought of handing her over to Nythen for his preferred form of interrogation fills my stomach with rocks, makes my throat close up.
The Lightbringer sucks in a breath, her hands twitching in the gloves. If the sensation is coming back, it’ll be agony, but she doesn’t make any further sound. Although her trembling grows, filling her entire body. As if she can’t stop it. Her fire eyes flutter, and close again.
They’re not used to the cold. Not like us. I unfasten the ridiculously heavy cloak Kaelen forced on me—one of his, if I’m not mistaken—and slip my hand under her back, lifting her.
“Here.” Eldritch takes the cloak from me, and I hold her as we wrap her up. “I can take her.”
“She rides with me.” I adjust the cloaked bundle of her in my arms as I stand. She’s not particularly short, but she fits perfectly. I don’t meet any of their eyes as I push past a scowling Nythen, Valcor watching with his arms folded as I cross to my horse. “I need to check her on the way.”
I need to get her into the healing chambers, where I can look at her properly. I have little equipment out here, and the condition of her hands concerns me enough that I know we’ll be covering the ground in half the time. But right now, the cold is the biggest threat.
“She’s our enemy, Eres.” Valcor says the words, his eyes running over her and narrowing with distaste. “They left her for a reason.”
“I’m not a fool,” I say abruptly. “But nobody touches her until I’m satisfied with her progress. The Council will decide from there.”
My heartbeat thuds louder as I climb up, tucking her against me to try and give her some of my warmth. I’ll need help, if I’m to stop Nythen stealing her as soon as we’re back through the gates. Even now, I can feel his eyes on her. Squaring my shoulders, I pull her closer.
And I’m not sure I can count on Kaelen. Not when he hates Lightbringers as much as the rest of us do, and deservedly so. As much as I do.
I look down, to where her nose is pressed against my shirt. She’s still trembling, even unconscious.
I’m just not so sure about this one.