Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Alyx
Iclapped my hands to my ears, trying to block out the noise of howling wind and bone-rattling thunder. It did nothing, though, to drown out the screaming in my head.
It was as if the magic of the desert was being torn apart. The gentle growing force that lived in my mind was nowhere to be found. It had been replaced by a wild, feral thing.
And that wild thing currently kneeled on the ground before me.
Kelvar’s face was screwed up in pain as he tilted it toward the sky.
But he was not just a man. He was a storm in human skin.
Now it had burst out of him in rage and pain in response to Dileas’s injury.
His fists were clenched on his knees so hard his knuckles turned white, and he was perfectly still outside of a fine tremor that spoke to tension running through every muscle.
The mare beside him thrashed, as if she wanted to flee the chaos of the flashing lighting and torrential winds that whipped her mane. White shone around her eyes as they rolled in both pain and fear.
I could help her, but not like this.
On my hands and knees, I inched forward toward Kelvar. The storm pushed against me as if with physical hands. I bowed my head and persisted, gritting my teeth until I sat just before him.
“Kelvar!” I shouted, but the wind carried my voice away. He did not even twitch in response.
I brought one hand to his shoulder and jolted as a spark shocked my skin. Still, I grabbed it and shook, trying to jostle him from whatever trance he was in.
The howling of the wind quieted infinitesimally, but lightning still crackled and danced around us.
His dark hair pulled free of its knot and whipped around his face as he kneeled motionless in the storm.
This close to him, I could see the deep furrow between his brows and even the glistening of tears clinging to his lashes.
It struck me again just how young he was—not any older than I, saddled with this immense burden.
The rush of magic through his body must be agonizing.
I moved my hand from his shoulder to his cheek, lifting the other to mirror it. I cupped his face as gently as I could, at odds with the chaos around us.
“You’re safe.” My words could barely be heard over the storm. I didn’t know why I echoed his first words to me, but they felt right on my tongue.
“You’re safe, and I’m here,” I repeated.
The wind whipping my hair slowed. And the next crack of thunder somehow seemed less violent. So, I kept going.
“I’m here, and I’m not going to leave you. I’ll help you.”
The furrow between Kelvar’s brows smoothed. The wild calmed, turning from a gale into a breeze. I sighed in relief, but I did not let go of his face.
His eyes didn’t open yet, but he took a shuddering breath in. “Dileas…”
“I’m going to help her,” I promised.
At this, his eyes finally snapped open. His hands shot to my own wrists, pinning them in place where they held his cheeks, not that I had planned to move them yet.
I sucked in a breath at the look in his eyes—wet with tears but with nearly glowing with the magic that still clung to him. Vulnerable and lethal at the same time.
“I can’t let you… I can’t kill her,” he admitted.
I shook my head. “I’m not going to. I promise.”
His expression was so hopeless, my heart nearly cracked. But with the storm of his magic quieting, the pained fear of the horse behind me began seeping back in. Gently, I extricated myself from Kelvar’s grip.
“Just keep Dileas calm,” I said, shifting on my knees until I faced the mare once more. “She trusts you.”
It was true. The bond between rider and horse was nearly palpable in the magic of the desert, bending the fabric of power with its weight.
“What do you—” Kelvar started, but I was already reaching out to Dileas’s injured leg.
My power sprang forth easily, as if it had been called to life as Kelvar’s had calmed.
Tendrils of life bloomed in my chest and crawled down my hand toward Dileas.
I wasn’t sure if I closed my eyes or if my vision simply faded as I became one with the network of vitality that spread through the creatures of the desert—and right beneath my fingers, a rent in the tapestry.
As my magic reached out to touch it, Dileas squealed, but Kelvar’s voice followed, shushing and soothing nonsensically. I let the noises of the world fade into the background as I focused all my attention on the tear in front of me.
Carefully, I picked at the loose threads, pulling them together and untangling them where they had become knotted. As delicately as possible, I began weaving together what had been torn apart.
I drifted in magic for an indeterminate period of time. It was always like this when I healed—no sense of anything but my own power and the fabric of life that needed mending.
As I settled the last thread into place, and at last the snag disappeared, I finally let myself slip back into my body.
My vision blurred, and I blinked previously sightless eyes until they finally focused.
My hand lay on Dileas’s foreleg, but where there had been protruding bone now only lay a pale, thin scar. The awkward bend of her joint was gone.
“Sands.”
Kelvar’s swear almost made me jump in surprise, but my muscles only twitched weakly, as if they weren’t quite responding to my brain yet. I lifted my head, the world spinning around me as I tried to meet Kelvar’s gaze, although my own eyes would barely focus.
He kneeled across from me by Dileas’s head.
“I told you I would help,” I said, but the words came out slurred, my tongue feeling several sizes too large for my mouth. How long had it been since I had a sip of water?
“You did more than help. You worked miracles,” he murmured. The words sounded very far away.
I wanted to say that I could do no such thing, but further speech was beyond me.
Instead, I managed a slight twitch of my lips before I began tipping sideways.
My muscles were too tired to brace myself for impact with the ground beneath me, but it never came.
Instead, strong arms caught me, and a familiar storm enveloped me—but this time, it was not a torrent of destruction and rage.
This time, it was the gentle rumble of thunder on the horizon and the comforting thought of desert rain, and I burrowed into a warm chest and fell asleep.