Chapter 26
Emmeric
Iyana had been sleeping for two days, Altair keeping her unconscious with his magic. The bells had clanged out the escaped prisoner pattern as they left Athusia. When the horses broke into a gallop, Emmeric could see Iyana was in severe pain, and it jolted throughout his entire body like lightning. Gods, the amount of shit this small woman had gone through in the past week was unbelievable. And the fact she was still alive? Remarkable. Emmeric found his respect for her growing. He’d yelled at Altair to put her to sleep, and the pain in his body mercifully dropped to almost nothing. Still some twinges in his back from time to time, where the flogging had been the worst of her injuries.
Emmeric had never killed anyone out of pure rage or hatred. His body count stacked up from years in the military under a ruthless, power hungry emperor. Guilt would consume him every time he killed an innocent in the Holygazer name. He’d spend days praying to Altea, begging her to welcome his victims to the Everlands with open arms. Emmeric knew there was a place in the nine hells waiting for him after he died. He only hoped as he went through the hells he’d be able to atone enough to eventually cross over to the Everlands, finally able to reunite with his parents. But Azazel? He relished that kill. His only regret was the time limit, and that he couldn’t produce more pain or evoke more terror from the craven. Still, he’d made sure Azazel felt every slice, every punch, every kick until Emmeric drew his sword across his throat. Even then, he’d made certain the cut was shallow, ensuring the small man would bleed out slowly. Hopefully, Phaedros himself would escort the torture master directly to his pit. Only the worst of the worst bypassed the nine hells, being kicked into the pit of eternal torment without a chance at redemption.
They rode hard, attempting to put as much distance between them and Athusia as possible. There was no time to camp—the three men eating upon the horses—taking quick bathroom breaks to feed and water the horses. Iyana slept through it all. Finally, after an exhausting and frantic two days, the horses frothing at the mouth; they slowed and determined it was safe enough to sleep. They stopped in a small glen, trees with leaves of changing colors surrounding them, but the night sky peeked through the limbs. Probably not the most strategic of resting places, but there weren’t many other choices. Emmeric desperately wanted to fall asleep immediately. He’d only dozed a few times while riding, trusting his horse to follow the others, but it was anything but restful. However, Iyana’s well-being was his priority. Altair lowered her to Emmeric, and he placed her gently on a bedroll. Talon was busy starting a fire, the sounds of metal striking flint scaring off a flock of nightjars who screamed at them in protest.
“Can’t you heal her?” Emmeric asked Altair.
Altair shook his head. “I don’t possess that type of magic. Imera gave the gift of healing directly to humans.”
“But you helped her in Imothia.”
“That was panic, anxiety, which is much different from physical injuries. I can induce calm, or sleep, but knitting her skin back together or mending broken bones is not within my power.”
“So, how do we help her?” Talon asked, feeding the small, crackling fire with twigs. “Keep her asleep until she heals?”
“It would take too long,” Altair said. “She still needs to learn to wield her magic. And she needs to do so with her Kanaliza.” The idea he had this power still made Emmeric uneasy, especially because he had yet to see any proof he even could help with her magic, other than the bond in his chest and sensing her pain. Altair continued, “I’ll need to wake her and have her walk us through a healing potion. Then Emmeric will assist her.”
“What?” Emmeric asked, surprised. “How?”
Altair set Iyana’s medical bag near her, kneeling by her head. “Through your connection.”
Crystal clear instructions there.“But I still don’t—” Emmeric wouldn’t get any answers, because Altair had laid his hand over Iyana’s forehead, and she woke with a deep inhale like she hadn’t been breathing for the past two days. Pain flooded through Emmeric’s entire body—his hands, back, ribs, head, everywhere. There didn’t appear to be one area of Iyana that remained uninjured. He gasped, leaning forward to brace his hands on his knees. Talon started towards him, but he waved his friend off, instead gritting his teeth against the pain. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the numbing draught and emptied the last few drops into Iyana’s mouth. She choked, coughing, but swallowed the medication, and the pain immediately eased. He sighed in relief, both for himself and for her.
Once Iyana’s breathing evened out, she took in her surroundings, all three men standing around her. She smiled at Talon, and jealousy spiked through Emmeric—she already had such an easy rapport with him. But that was Talon, always making friends. Hell, it seemed he’d even befriended the aloof Prince Zane. Iyana’s eyes skipped right over Emmeric, which hurt, and landed on Altair.
“Altair?” she whispered.
“Shh,” Altair soothed, smoothing her hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You’re safe.” Her lower lip quivered, and silent tears fell down her face. Altair wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Oh, astalle, I’m so sorry.”
That was a new pet name. Emmeric hated it even more than my star.
“Think you can walk me through making a healing potion, Smalls?” Talon asked.
Iyana nodded, then winced. Emmeric felt the twinge in the back of his neck. “A healing potion isn’t going to fix all of this, though, even if I were to activate it, but I haven’t been able to reach my magic since…” She trailed off, but none of them needed her to finish the sentence. Since she had been thrown in the dungeon, since she’d been beaten and tortured, since she was forced to live in frigid conditions completely naked. If Azazel had touched her, done…other things to her, Emmeric would murder him all over again.
“Once you ingest the potion,” Altair explained, “then Emmeric will merge his magic with yours to complete the healing process.”
Iyana’s gaze snapped to him. “No.”
“No?” Emmeric asked, lowering his brows. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean, no. I don’t trust you.”
Anger bubbled within Emmeric’s chest, working its way up his throat until he couldn’t contain it. “Are you fucking serious?”
Iyana’s eyes widened.
“I literally just threw away my entire life for you! I brought you medication to help your pain. All of us broke you out of a godsdamn dungeon, and I gave you my cloak—” she touched said cloak still wrapped around her; it was filthy beyond reason “—all that, and you still don’t trust me?” Emmeric’s anger simmered into disappointment. He hated that he was begging her to let him in. What else did he need to do to earn her trust? How many hoops would she make him jump through? He wasn’t asking for friendship, or her hand in marriage—simply a base-level trust that Emmeric wouldn’t immediately betray her the first chance he got.
Her eyes softened marginally. “Okay,” she said, softly.
Emmeric sighed, his fiery emotions disintegrating. “Okay.”
Iyana gave Talon step-by-step instructions, as the numbing draught slowly wore off. She never flinched, though. Even as the pain returned full-force, she continued to give clear and steady tips on how to best mix the medicine. Once completed, Iyana drank down the whole potion, shuddering as she swallowed.
“I never knew how terrible that tasted,” she said. “I’ll need to tweak the recipe so it isn’t as vile.” Some of the swelling and bruising on her exposed skin was already receding.
“Now what?” Emmeric asked, kneeling opposite of Altair. He could see on her face that she still was wary about trusting him, but she wasn’t outright rejecting his assistance. So, progress.
“While eventually your connection will be strong enough to do this without physical touch,” said Altair, “as of right now, those muscles, so to speak, aren’t built up enough. Emmeric, your hand.” Altair held out his own hand expectantly, and Emmeric reluctantly reached out. Altair slashed across Emmeric’s palm with a knife, blood welling immediately to the surface, quickly doing the same to Iyana. They both hissed with the pain. Altair guided their bloodied hands together, fingers curling around each other automatically. Gods, her wrists were skin and bone. Although Iyana had only been in the dungeon for a week, it was obvious she hadn’t eaten anything. To waste away this quickly? Emmeric was shocked she was even conscious, let alone making a healing potion. He squeezed her fingers gently, reassuring himself she was alive and there with him.
Nothing happened.
“Um,” Emmeric said, “is something supposed to—” An intense gasp escaped out of both him and Iyana, their backs arching as an entirely unfamiliar sensation passed through them. Fire, the kind that cleanses instead of burning, rushed through his body, filling every last fiber of his being. It was euphoric; he wanted to feel this way constantly. Was this how Iyana felt when she connected with her magic? His eyes found Iyana’s wide, warm caramel ones, her lavender and coconut scent surrounded him. Her plump lips parted on a breath. Everything else around them disappeared. The glen, Altair, Talon… None of them were important in this moment. Only the two of them, the way things should be. Without knowing how, his body pushed the fire to Iyana. Her back bowed higher, her hand clamping down on his, fingernails digging into his flesh. Emmeric welcomed the bite of pain, the soft weight of her hand in his. This was where he belonged. All those years after losing his parents searching for a purpose, and it was here with Iyana the whole time.
Magic finished emptying from his body into hers, and she laid back with a deep, relieved sigh. The cuts healed, the bruising and swelling completely gone, even the lacerations on both their palms were gone. Emmeric grinned at her, high on the magic, on her. “Welcome back, Mouse.”
Before he could say or do anything else, Altair scooped Iyana onto his lap and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. She sighed into the kiss, clutching his tunic. Emmeric turned away, jealousy a heavy weight in his heart, resisting saying something he’d regret. Iyana was allowed to find comfort in anyone’s arms. He just wanted them to be his.
Talon clapped him on the back. “Come on, old man. Let’s go scrounge up some dinner.” Emmeric picked up a bow and quiver of arrows and stalked into the tree line. Altair and Iyana continued murmuring with each other, and he left without looking back. His heart couldn’t take seeing her sitting in another man’s lap, naked, after the connection they’d shared only a minute before. He would have to be content with fostering a rocky friendship. For now.