22. Years Of Academy Training, Wasted
Sage really did mean business. By my calculations, lunch should have been hours and hours ago, and my measly apple felt like it belonged to a different lifetime. I’d been light-headed and jelly-legged for ages, my stomach long since past the stage of rumbling. Instead, it felt like it was trying to implode.
My brain might have been full of starving fog, but I hadn’t failed to notice Idris slipping away from the main group several times during our long trek, only to return without fanfare or fuss an hour or two later. In fact, he was absent when Sage finally took mercy and called us to a halt beside a chatty stream. For all I knew, it was the same stream I’d fallen into during the spider attack on our journey to find the princes, but my senses had given up caring hours ago. I felt more than a little drunk as I sank down onto a rock while the witches busied themselves behind me.
I should have eaten more at breakfast, but I hadn’t expected to skip lunch completely. My rock was located in a patch of sunlight, and I tipped my head back, letting the light warm my face. If Sage hadn’t been such a tyrant, and if the world wasn’t full of monsters, I could have gladly stayed there for hours, basking in the early evening glow.
Before long, the scent of smoke and roasting meat drifted up my nose. The no fire rule had obviously been abandoned completely. The stream burbled past, and birds twittered overhead. I couldn’t bring myself to worry about spiders, or anything except the very real possibility of me fainting and falling face first into the water.
When the sun sank too low to break through the treetops, I gave up my sunbathing and watched my companions with fuzzy eyes. Nobody bothered me. Even Pansy kept her distance. True, she was busy, but I couldn’t help but feel she was making herself scarce deliberately, leaving room for a certain prince to speak with me. But Anwir was busy too, helping to prepare dinner.
I admired his broad back as he prodded and poked the fire. It was a miracle that his glorious physique had survived hundreds of years suspended in a tomb. The curse had clearly frozen its victims, preserving them in perfect condition. Had they truly been sleeping, or had they been aware of every second? Either way, it seemed a foolish way to go about things. If I’d been a villain, I’d have gone for something a little more debilitating, or permanent, but I wasn’t complaining. The view was really quite miraculous.
My gaze drifted, landing on an equally beautiful form. I blinked in mild surprise. Idris was back. I hadn’t noticed him sneaking back into camp, but there he was, lurking slightly away from the rest of the group, silent and sulking as usual, but helping. He knelt in the dirt, sleeves rolled up and knife in hand, chopping away at something I couldn’t see. A lock of black hair fell into his eyes, and he swiped at it with his bare forearm before returning to chopping. Muscles and tendons flexed under his skin as he worked. Had he been hunting again? Was that what he was doing during his absences?
What if he was a traitor?
The thought slid down my spine like an ice cube, and goosebumps erupted over my skin. What if he was a traitor? What if he was sneaking away to meet with his evil uncle? No, it made no sense. Why would he work for someone who had cursed him? Idris might be standoffish and rude and downright unpleasant, but he wouldn’t betray us, would he? Not his own brother, not the woman who’d broken his curse?
I’d kissed him.
Heat licked at my neck, chasing away my chill. My lips had touched his, and the curse had broken. God, I still couldn’t believe that it had actually worked. It was such a cliché.
Which prince did you give your life to, mon amor?
Did the vision’s message mean Idris would betray me? Did he remember the kiss?
As though he read my gut-twisting thoughts, Idris’ whipped his head around, eyes snapping to me over his broad shoulder. I looked away hurriedly, pretending I hadn’t been admiring his muscular forearms while remembering my lips on his. I hoped I hadn’t turned beetroot. I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust from the shame of it. If I did, it would be a mercy.
Abandoning my rock, I rose on wobbly legs. The world swayed, and it was a few seconds before I was steady enough to attempt what I hoped was a casual stroll over to the fire. Some poor little soul was roasting over the flames, but I averted my eyes before I could make out what, exactly, had been slaughtered.
“Can I help?” I asked nobody in particular.
I wasn’t sure what use I could possibly be, but I didn’t want to sit around looking shifty.
“You’ve already done your share.” Anwir smiled up at me from where he crouched over an assortment of metal plates and bowls. He offered one to me. “Here, this is for you.”
My plate was crammed with food. Carefully sliced cheese, including some of that delicious cranberry one, a mound of nuts piled on top of a bed of leaves, an assortment of juicy berries, buttered bread, and taking centre stage, an apple. Not just any old apple though. It had been sliced into delicate, wafer-thin strips, which had been skilfully arranged to look like a rose in full bloom.
“Oh my God.” I took the plate, a smile spreading over my face. “This is amazing! I almost don’t want to eat it.”
“Eat,” Anwir said firmly. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”
Well, that was always good to hear, especially from somebody who was too handsome to be allowed. Still, he was probably right.
“Thank you. This is really thoughtful, and pretty.”
“It suits you then.”
My blush bypassed my ears completely, igniting my entire face. I tried to speak, but the only sound I could make was an awkward high-pitched laugh. I retreated to my rock before I could embarrass myself further, but not before Pansy could give me a wink and a sneaky grin from where she sat, turning a stick of skewered mushrooms over the flame.
What was wrong with me? I had never been the type of girl to get tongue tied and swoony over a handsome man, but Anwir was beyond handsome. He blew all my conquests out of the water with his sheer perfection, and his charm, and his kindness. I looked at the plate balanced on my lap. The apple must have taken forever to carve and arrange. Such delicate work, and he’d done it for me. He’d obviously marked my choice of apple at breakfast and decided I liked them. And I did. I mean, I’d rather have a croissant, but apples were okay, but it was the effort that made it special. No man except my dad had ever done anything as sweet for me, mainly because I’d never given them the chance, unwilling to allow anyone or anything to distract me from my studies, but… My heart glowed at the sight of that apple rose.
Smiling to myself, I layered the cheese onto my bread and began to eat.
I’d all but finished when Pansy approached, clutching two mushroom kebabs. She handed one to me and sat on a nearby rock, grinning like a fool.
“What?” I demanded, but I had a feeling I already knew the answer.
Damn her to hell. I didn’t have a clue how to deflect her implications, so I tore a mushroom from the stick with my teeth. It was glorious to fill my belly after all those hours of starvation. The shaking limbs had already begun to subside.
“Come on then, tell me what you think.”
“Mmph.” I nodded, swallowing my food. “Yeah, tastes amazing.”
“Not the mushrooms, Aliza!” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’m talking about Prince Anwir.”
“Oh. I mean, I don’t know him very well, but he seems alright.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “He seems to like you.”
“He’s polite.”
“Don’t you find him handsome?”
God, she was relentless. I narrowed my eyes at the prying witch, deciding if I could trust her. I knew I could. “Fine. He’s gorgeous.”
Pansy squealed, drawing the attention of the entire camp. I hurriedly busied myself with my mushrooms, trying to look innocent and unconcerned. When she continued, she lowered her voice, leaning in.
“Mother above, I knew it! I knew there was something between the two of you. I’ve been watching.”
“There isn’t anything,” I sighed. “Just because I think he’s good looking doesn’t mean there’s anything there.”
What if Pansy was right? What if Anwir looked at me and saw beauty? It wasn’t possible, was it? I was just a human. I had no idea how old the prince was, but he’d undoubtedly spent his life before the curse surrounded by stunning fae females. The apple glared up at me. Kindness, or something more?
“Oh, please. I’ve seen the way he’s drawn to you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I insisted, unable to deny that the prince had shown me a fair amount of attention. “I’ve done what I needed to do. I’ll be able to go home as soon as we get back to Nairsgarth.”
It was true. Just because I found the princes attractive, it didn’t change anything. It didn’t make me waver. I would bask in the attention until it was time for me to leave. Maybe I’d enjoy Anwir’s company for a night, scratch the itch my illicit dreams had awoken in me, but no more than that. After all, it wasn’t every day a girl had the chance to take an obscenely handsome prince to bed.
The scandalised delight on Pansy’s face faded into disappointment.
“Don’t look at me like that, we always knew—”
A snarling bark shattered the peace of the woods, sending my plate and skewer splashing into the stream as I scrambled to my feet. I spun in time to see something huge and black careen into the midst of the camp, skidding through the flames in a blur of snapping teeth.
Screams erupted, but not enough to drown the snarls.
My eyes glued to the creature. It was a red-eyed wolf, easily as large as a carthorse, with a shaggy black coat and overlong fangs flashing in its snapping mouth. The witches bolted like zebras in the midst of a lion attack, screaming and reaching for their weapons, but the wolf was faster. Before I could do more than open my mouth in a scream that never came, the beast mowed down Meadow, those awful teeth snapping at the back of her neck.
Almost in slow motion, the pair tumbled to the ground. The momentum carried the wolf too far, and it rolled over the fallen witch, but its jaws remained clamped around the base of her skull. A spray of red mist arced through the air, and the wolf regained its footing, plunging back to finish the job.
The sinewy crack of bone snapped me from my horrified trance.
Pansy tugged on my arm. I stumbled into step beside her, my feet numb, my mind reeling. We’d barely staggered a few faltering steps when a second, identical beast leapt from the shadows, with a third close behind.
“Run!” somebody screamed.
I didn’t need telling twice.
I burst into a sprint, careening along the riverbed, leaping rocks and tree roots. The screams faded with every pounding step, but I couldn’t tell if that was only due to the blood blaring in my ears. Pansy darted along at my side, though with her short legs, I had to check my pace.
“Come on,” I encouraged, waving my hand.
I ran until my lungs threatened to burst out of my mouth. The woods were quiet when we staggered to a halt, with nothing to hint at the oversized beasts prowling its shadows. The last of the day’s sun glowed golden through the canopy of green leaves, reminding me of the princes’ eyes.
I shook my head. This was no time to be thinking—
A wolf leapt from the bracken, soaring straight at me, fanged jaw wide.
A streak of darkness launched into the wolf’s side, knocking it off course. Pansy screamed as the beast went down. I snatched her hand, dragging her away as the wolf tussled with…
“Jacques!”
The vampire didn’t look up. I barely caught a glimpse of his features, contorted with rage before he moved again, too fast to follow. One moment the wolf floundered to its feet, the next it was thrown onto its back with a yelp that dislodged leaves from the trees overhead. Jacques launched at its throat. Teeth snapped, and the beast snarled and writhed. I pressed a hand to my mouth, dancing on the spot.
With a wet tearing sound, the wolf gave up its fight. Jacques rose, the grotesque innards of the beast’s throat clutched in his blood-drenched fist. He threw it to the ground, where the wolf lay twitching and gurgling through its death throes. Blood spurted, pooling around the dying animal before sinking into the ground.
The vampire turned to face us. I gasped. Enormous, angry blisters covered his moon-white skin.
“Oh my God.” I darted toward him.
Pansy’s hand closed around my arm. “Aliza, that’s a vampire!”
“It’s okay, I know him.” I shrugged her off, hurrying to Jacques’ side.
I’d never seen him in daylight before, never been able to guess at the colour of his eyes. What should have been the whites were dark, threaded with black veins, and his irises were lightest grey and white, but for the red corona around his pupils. The star-bright gleam was even more striking against the raw red of his skin.
I took an awed step closer. “You actually saved me.”
Through cracked lips, he said, “Bien s?r, mademoiselle.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was saying. “Will you be okay? Will this” — I waved a vague hand at his face — “heal?”
He huffed a small laugh. “Do not fear for handsome Jacques, all will be well. Now hurry back to your camp, there are worse things than barghests in these woods.”
Barghests? Was that what the oversized dog was? Before Jacques could disappear at the speed of light I caught his blood-drenched sleeve, holding him in place. His eyes dropped to my hand, but I didn’t give him time to protest or escape before folding him into a hug. Somewhere behind me, Pansy gave a great shuddering gasp. Though I was careful to avoid Jacques’ burns, his nose went straight to my neck, and his protruding ribs expanded in a deep breath beneath my arms.
I stepped back hurriedly, only to find his focus had sharpened. He stared at the spot he’d sniffed with all the intensity of a cat about to pounce.
With a nervous chuckle I said, “Thank you, Jacques.”
The vampire blinked rapidly, as though coming out of a trance, then he gave a brief bow before leaping into the branches overhead, leaving me staring at the body of the monstrous wolf.
“Aliza?” Pansy asked doubtfully.
“Come on.” I turned away from the beast, veering back the way we’d come. “You heard him. It’s not safe out here alone.”
Pansy’s silence was almost as unnerving as the knowledge that at least two more barghests prowled the woods. The witch trudged beside me, but I couldn’t decide if her lack of speech was down to shock, fear or judgement. Somehow, I suspected the latter. What had she said about vampires? That she’d hoped the curse would starve them?
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said at length, keeping my voice low. In truth, I had no idea what was going on inside her head, beyond that it couldn’t be good. “You don’t need to worry. Jacques’ alright. He’s been protecting me since the first night I arrived in Neath. He hasn’t tried to, you know… eat me.”
Pansy shot me a sharp look.
“He’s actually helped keep me alive.”
“He’s a vampire, Aliza. Do you understand what that means?”
I bristled. I might not know much about this world, but I wasn’t as naive as everyone seemed to think. “Of course I do, but the fact is, he just saved our lives. The curse is broken, he doesn’t need me anymore, and he still saved me. He’s alright.”
“Never trust the undead! I don’t know why he saved you, but I’d bet my life he’s helping you for his own reasons.”
My voice was cold as I retorted, “Not unlike the coven, then. Let’s not forget that I didn’t actually want to come on this God-forsaken mission.”
“That’s different,” Pansy gasped, her eyes widening in shock, but it wasn’t. As far as I could see, none of my so-called friends would have bothered to keep me alive if I hadn’t been their only hope.
“Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want to get home, and if that means befriending Maelgwyn himself, I’d do it.”
“You don’t mean that.”
I heaved a sigh. “No, but I do trust Jacques to an extent, and nothing you can say or think will change that.”
“Just… be careful, Aliza. He’s dangerous.”
“Who’s dangerous?” Anwir strolled out from between the trees, sword in hand. His blade was an ordinary silver like those of the witches, not the beautiful metal of Idris’ weapons. No hint of blood marred the blade, and I breathed a sigh of relief. After everything the witches and I had risked, losing the princes on the way home would be far from ideal.
“Nobody,” I said hurriedly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m unhurt. I was separated from the others. The two of you?”
“Fine. We’re heading back now.”
Anwir dropped his eyes frowning. “You have blood on your arm. You’re sure you’re unhurt?”
I glanced down, and sure enough, a smear of red marred my skin. Probably barghest blood, transferred from Jacques to me when I’d hugged him. “One of the barghests is dead. We… found it, back there. That’s all it is.”
Anwir peered through the trees at my back, his eyes narrowing. “What killed it?”
“We don’t know,” I lied, praying Pansy would support my dishonesty. If Jacques’ earlier reaction to Idris had been any indicator, fae disliked vampires almost as much as witches did. “But one down, two to go. Come on, let’s find the others.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Anwir fell into step on my far side, and I led him away from the barghest and any evidence of Jacques.
The walk back to camp took an eternity. Pansy resumed her earlier silence, and Anwir wasn’t his usual charming self. I was glad of his presence though, and the way his eyes swept our surroundings, alert to any dangers lurking in the growing gloom. He stayed close to me, and his tall, solid presence was reassuring, especially as I wasn’t entirely convinced Jacques still haunted my steps. I caught no glimpse of the vampire amongst the shadowed boughs, nor those strange eyes disguised by the stars winking slowly into life above us.
Finally, voices drifted to my ears, and I quickened my pace, but as we grew nearer, and the voices clearer, the unmistakable notes of panic rang through the dusk. The witches shouting was interrupted by a ferocious snarl.
I shared a worried glance with Pansy, only for our brief eye contact to be broken by a scream.
Anwir flung out his arm, blocking our approach. “Wait here.”
He didn’t give me time to answer before he broke into a run. Drawing my daggers, I ignored his advice and followed, Pansy’s footsteps close behind.
The moment we broke through the trees, the moment I saw what awaited us, I regretted not following Anwir’s order.
Another barghest lay dead, multiple stab wounds littering its body, but it was the smaller, second form, sprawled in a pool of blood, that made my stomach lurch.
Hyacinth. Hyacinth grappling with a gaping wound on her thigh, bleeding profusely. Too much. Far too much.
“Move!” My daggers thudded to the ground as I darted between the cluster of witches and threw myself to my knees, unbuckling my belt as I went. “It’s okay, Hyacinth,” I said. “You’re going to be fine.”
Blood spurted between Hyacinth’s shaking fingers, splattering in the rapidly growing pool.
My nerves and panic evaporated, leaving only a numb sense of purpose. Emotion had no place here, and my body knew its job. My hands were deft as I wrapped the belt around the witch’s thigh, pulling the buckle as tight as I could. Her thigh was much slimmer than my waist, and there were no holes to fasten it.
“Someone hold this,” I ordered, my voice calm and steady. A large, pale hand took the belt from me. “Pull it as tight as you can. We need to slow the bleeding.”
Much good it would do out here.
“Okay, Hyacinth. I’m going to apply pressure to the wound. This will hurt.”
Pansy dropped into place opposite me, seizing her mother’s hand. Her desperate eyes fixed on me, silently pleading. Unable to offer even a hint of a smile, I lowered my gaze, gathering up my wrap.
When I pressed it against the wound, Hyacinth screamed. I’d heard somewhere that dying patients didn’t scream. It was a lie, and I suspected I had lied when I’d told the witch she would be fine. With no hospitals, and no magic…
“I need a hot blade,” I yelled, to nobody in particular. It might be a long shot, but if I could locate the artery amongst the mangled flesh, if I could cauterise it…
“There’s no fire,” somebody answered in a panicked voice.
Fuck. “Sage, the paste you used on me, have you got any left?”
“It won’t work quickly enough.” The witch’s voice shook as she spoke, wracked with as much emotion as I had ever heard from her.
I looked up at her, at her colourless face and white ringed eyes. “Let’s try, shall we?”
Because it was all we could do. Because however faint that glimmer of hope, without it, Hyacinth would be dead in minutes. I could slow the bleeding, but that was all I could do. I couldn’t seal the artery or stitch the wound. I was buying time. Seconds, minutes. But for what?
Because, in the face of suffering, I didn’t know how to do nothing.
Sage pressed her white lips together, nodding, and slid her pack off her shoulder. I turned my attention to Hyacinth. Her clammy brown face was a sickly shade, losing colour fast. Her eyes fluttered on the edge of consciousness. At her side, Pansy muttered a string of high-pitched attempts at cheery reassurance. I couldn’t stand the wild desperation in her voice. This was no calm, sterile surgery, with an impassive team. There had never been loved ones present as we battled to save a life.
My hands grew sticky and warm. Blood soaked through my wrap. I checked the tourniquet. The prince’s hands held it tight. His white knuckles were streaked in blood. My eyes trailed up his straining arm. Idris stared back at me.
I swallowed, hooked by eyes almost identical to Anwir’s, but bleak. He knew. I looked at him, and I could feel it down to my bones. He knew how fruitless this was, and still, he held the belt. Still, he tried.
“I’ve got it.” Sage interrupted my moment of hopeless clarity. She crouched beside me, a pot of that same thick green paste she’d mended me with clutched before her.
“Okay. In a second, I’m going to move my hands. I want you to slather that paste on as quickly as you can, nice and thick. Get into the wound, don’t worry about hurting her. Then I’m going to put pressure on again. Yeah?”
Sage nodded, scooping a gloopy dollop of paste.
“Idris, you keep that belt pulled tight, okay?”
“Understood.”
“On three then. One, two, three.”
To Sage’s credit, her shaking hands didn’t falter as she smeared the paste into the gaping wound, but just as quickly as she worked, fresh blood pooled. Shit. I could feel Idris shaking with the effort of pulling the belt. As soon as Sage moved, I slammed my wrap back down, throwing my weight forward onto my arms.
Please, please, please.
It had to work. There was no other option. It didn’t have to leave a perfect limb, but if the paste could just seal the edges, close the severed artery…
It would be enough to get Hyacinth home, to the magic. That was all we needed.
Though Hyacinth’s chest rose and fell, the movement was barely discernible, growing fainter by the second. I didn’t believe in any god, but I silently begged somebody, anything, to intervene. Nobody did, of course. The only gods were us, and we were powerless.
Inevitably, despite our useless efforts, Hyacinth’s chest fell still.
“Sage,” I barked. “Take over from me.”
“What is it?” Pansy wailed. “Aliza?”
I scrambled, sliding my hands from underneath Sage’s as they pressed down, and shuffled around Idris to Hyacinth’s chest. I lowered my ear to her mouth, hoping against the cold, sinking sensation in my chest that warm breath would flutter over my skin.
Nothing.
Shit.
Locking my hands together, I rose onto my knees and thrust the heel of my hand down onto Hyacinth’s chest, beginning to count the rhythm in my head. I’d never performed CPR on a person before, and while I was confident that I knew what I was doing, I also recognised the creeping heaviness of futility spreading through my body. But I had to try. I couldn’t just sit back and let Hyacinth die, knowing there was something, anything, I might have tried. I couldn’t live with that.
“Stop it!” Somebody shrieked. “Get off her!”
My rhythm faltered, and I found Pansy, teeth bared, eyes wild, glaring back at me.
“You’re hurting her!”
“I’m helping her,” I muttered, trying to return focus to my beats. “I’m trying to help.”
Thirty. Despite Pansy’s continued arguments, I pinched Hyacinth’s nose, blowing two deep rescue breaths into her mouth, before returning to her chest. I’d barely managed a full compression before an arm wrapped around my neck, dragging me away.
“Leave her alone!”
The arm released me, and I tumbled to my arse, blinking up in shock. Pansy, for once, towered over me, glaring down at me.
“Stop hurting my mother!”
“Pansy, I would never! I’m trying to save her life. I know it doesn’t look nice, and it’s not, but if I can keep her blood moving through her body, and get her breathing again, if the paste works…”
If. So much depended on if.
“Please, Pansy. Let me try.”
My friend”s lip trembled, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in my arms, to squeeze her and let her cry, but that could come after. Right now, her mother needed me. Maybe the calm, reassuring mask I’d spent the past few years perfecting slipped to show exactly how dire this situation was, or maybe it did its job exactly as intended, because Pansy’s face crumpled, and she gave a nod of assent.
“Hold her hand,” I said, trying to inject some gentleness into my tone. “Speak to her. Let her know you’re there.”
“She can hear me?”
“Of course she can.” I didn’t know if that was true, but what harm could a little white lie do now?
By the time I sank down beside Idris, surrounded by silent, watchful faces, my limbs had begun to shake. My arms trembled as I resumed chest compressions, and Pansy’s voice drifted through the silence.
“Mother, it’s me, it’s Pansy. Can you hear me? Everything is fine. Aliza and Sage have fixed you up. All we need is for you to wake up, and then we’re going home. Come on, Mother. You can do it. I know you can.”
I tuned her out, fighting against the tears welling in my eyes. I narrowed my attention to my sickeningly bloodied hands, to counting. Thirty compressions, two rescue breaths. Thirty compressions, two rescue breaths.
I repeated the cycle over and over, until my own breaths were harsh as they burst from my mouth, until my shoulders ached and my arms trembled. Then I repeated it some more. I lost count. I had no way of knowing how long I’d been working, but I knew the mantra. I couldn’t stop until I was exhausted, or until help arrived, but this wasn’t my world, and no help was coming. We were alone.
Eventually, Pansy’s imploring mutterings turned to quiet sobs. I tried not to notice when she curled up on the ground beside her mother, clutching the older witch’s hand to her chest. I tried not to notice that the other witches had begun to turn away, that some were crying. I tried not to notice that, despite my best efforts, I was slowing, my body betraying me. Every pump was weaker, shallower than the last. A sob burst through my clenched teeth.
“Aliza.”
A large hand settled between my shoulder blades. “Aliza, it’s time.”
No. It couldn’t be. Yet though I knew it was, I still couldn’t stop. I couldn’t be the one to quit.
The hand slid around my shoulder and down my arm, closing firmly, preventing my next compression. I didn’t have the strength to fight. Another sob shattered from my tight throat.
“It’s alright.”
It wasn’t. How could he not see?
I blinked through my tears at Anwir. He released my arm and pulled me to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady in my ear, an awful reminder that, beside me, Hyacinth was dead.
Dead.
I had let her die. At the thought, I began to dissolve, drowning in guilt and disbelief.
“We need to move.”
It took me three full seconds to make sense of Sage’s words. I disentangled myself from Anwir’s arms. Sage looked, for the first time ever, lost. Unsure. Her whole body trembled, and her face was a sickly shade of grey. Wet streaks spilled down each cheek, but despite it all, she held her head high as she gathered her control. Of us, and of herself.
“This is it,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “We need to reach the border. We’re out of time. Pansy… say goodbye to your mother. It’s time to go.”
I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t prevent it as Pansy’s terrible, animalistic wail howled through the gathering dark. In the seconds since Anwir had pulled me away, she’d half laid herself over Hyacinth, her head nestled beneath her mother’s chin. Now she clung to her, her whole body heaving with sobs.
“We can’t leave her,” I said, even as I thought of Meadow, the first witch to die, torn apart by wolves, and left behind as we fled. This was different though. This was my friend’s mother.
“She will only slow us down.” Sage spoke with no room for argument, but her voice cracked, betraying the emotion she held at bay.
Idris stirred, snagging my gaze. He’d been at my side throughout my failed attempts, but he’d moved away since, maybe to allow Pansy whatever shred of privacy we could give in these God-forsaken woods. Now, he prowled close once more, crouching, and muttered words I couldn’t hear.
After a moment, Pansy released her mother’s body, clambering stiffly to her feet where she was immediately embraced by Hazel, but it was Idris I watched.
Watched as he scooped up the dead witch as effortlessly as though she was a child. He rose, turning to Sage, his face set with challenge.
Was it my imagination, or was that a glimmer of gratitude on Sage’s face?
“Keep up, Your Highness,” was all she said before turning away, fading into the failing light.