Chapter Twenty-Seven. When You Have to Save a Boy … Again
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
WHEN YOU HAVE TO SAVE A BOY … AGAIN
FARREN
For a moment I’m worried it’s James falling through the air again. But it’s Colm Ditters. Patrolling means skimming along the lake, so as I squeeze my thighs into Daphine’s side, she brushes the water with a splash and coats herself in copper before accelerating and propelling upward.
“Go,” I say. On command Daphine’s wings flap until we’re vertical, ascending so fast the wind is like a whip to my face.
I notice it then. The way Colm’s free-falling above me, his body shaped like a U. He’s unconscious.
There’s no way I’m catching dead weight unless … I’m going to have to get close, so close no one can ever prove what I’m about to do next.
“Come on,” I urge Daphine.
I let go of the reins and prepare myself for the catch, or the collision.
If I can just grab his arm or torso, I can fake the rest with metal-crafting.
We’ll have only one shot at this. My arms strain against the current of the wind.
If I fail, he might die, his bloody and unprotected back the first to hit the water.
Daphine keeps carving upward and we’re there.
Colm’s coming at me like a cannonball. I reach, but I know at once I can’t hope to grab him.
My arms would be pulled from their sockets on impact.
So, I ditch the idea of first contact, and I craft the remains of his armor, calling to it.
The bronze obeys, sticking to my copper like a magnet is infused between us and I hug him to my body.
I don’t dare let up until we’re horizontal again.
Then I press a hand to his neck to find a pulse.
A life raft rests behind me on the large expanse of Daphine’s back—where I saved James’s life.
This time, though, I don’t abandon my saddle.
I continue to craft us together and fly as quickly as I can to medical.
Above me, the race doesn’t stop for a fallen rider. The cheers of someone’s victory overwhelm the stadium.
Dr. Burke awaits us at the medical tent. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him again like this so soon after James. As Daphine lands I drop my crafting and immediately the pressure falls and the full weight of Colm Ditters pulls at my arms. Good god he’s heavy.
Dr. Burke stands at the ready, though, and as Daphine leans forward to provide easy access, Colm all but slips from my arms and onto a real stretcher.
He rouses a second later, a hand to his head. “What happened?”
“You fell,” Dr. Burke says so dryly it almost sounds like sarcasm. “We’ll get you fixed up.”
I descend from Daphine, patting her on the neck as I slide off. Her copper has long receded to the brilliant blue of her natural scales, so I know she’s no longer nervous, but I still like to check in, thank her. “You did so good.”
She nudges my hand, the gesture as plain as words. If I did so good, where’s my reward? Her eyes beckon for treats.
“As soon as we get home, I’ll get you salmon.”
I relinquish her reins to a dragon trainer who takes her to the stables.
When I brush aside the flap of the medical tent, Colm’s bronze armor has been discarded and he’s downing a cup filled with bronze.
Dr. Burke stands behind him, assessing the wounds.
What surprises me is how fast Dr. Burke works, how quickly he can whip up lifesaving medicine.
What doesn’t surprise me is how annoyed Colm appears, or how ungrateful.
He gulps back the tea and slams the cup down. Then he notices me and begins his tirade. “Who won? If it’s Murphy we have to get him disqualified. Actually, we should get Murphy disqualified anyway for what he just pulled.”
He doesn’t like when I don’t answer because he shouts again. “Who won?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Too busy saving your ass.” God, I hope it was James. For Bex’s sake, but also to irritate Colm further.
“Go check for me.” It barely comes out as a question, bordering on demand.
I backstep to escape. I’ll gladly go check and in reality, disappear. I only came in here because it’s protocol to answer the doctor’s questions about a patient after rescuing them. How long they were in the water. How I saw them get hit, etcetera.
With James, I had gotten him breathing and consuming gold dust on the ride over and he still lay in this room half dead, blood pouring from his head.
A whole team had yelled instructions over him as I’d remained soaking in the corner with adrenaline making my heart slam into my chest. Afterward every question revolved around what I had seen, asking for my theory of why James had gone down.
I’d answered in I’m not sures until Mr. Murphy came over and told them to leave me alone.
The one time I’d been grateful for his presence, only now I know why he didn’t want anyone questioning me.
Dr. Burke rubs a metallic salve along Colm’s back. Colm flinches, but the anger seems to numb his injury better than any medicine could. “Figure out who won,” Colm insists again.
“That’s not important right now,” Dr. Burke interrupts. As I’m making to leave, he calls out to me. “Farren, please stay and watch him for a moment. Don’t let him lay on his back and don’t let him sleep. I need to get some things to test if he has a concussion.”
As much as I dislike Colm, a possible concussion is serious. Those wounds on his back will need stitches too. “Sure,” I answer, moving to stand in front of him.
Even up close Colm seems fine, angry and irritated, cursing under his breath.
Awkwardness stretches between us. The last time I was alone with Colm Ditters was at a tournament year eight and he sneered and joked about me being a simple spotter in training, there to watch him win.
James had beaten him badly an hour later.
“Do you have a headache?” I ask.
“Murphy is insane. Tried to kill me out there,” Colm snarls.
“From where I flew it looked like Bex was trying to kill you and James saved you,” I counter.
He stares at me a long moment, startling blue eyes wild in anger. Then they calm, like something just clicked into place. I hope it’s common sense. “No, you saved me,” he says. The rest of Colm’s demeanor changes at the statement, his mouth breaking into a smile, his eyes softening.
He leans forward and for a moment I think he’s falling from dizziness or some undiagnosed head injury.
So, I don’t immediately pull away. In fact, I do the opposite in order to catch him.
But as I clasp his shoulders his lips smoosh against mine, then move with intention.
Shock charges through me like I’ve burned myself. He … he’s kissing me.
I lurch back and on instinct craft, seizing the metal closest to me to push. The table wobbles as Colm crashes against it, his elbow catching himself to save his wounded back.
“What was that?” he asks. We both look down.
A bronze necklace sits heavy on his chest. He rubs at the spot under the medallion like it punched him.
I think that’s exactly what I did. Pushed that necklace into his sternum like a weighted stone to get him away from me.
“Did you just craft bronze?” There’s surprise in his voice, but it’s hard to tell underneath the anger.
No. No, no, no. My rage shrivels into fear.
“I…” I retreat, scrambling for an explanation.
“You’re a copper,” he spits the word like it’s an insult. “How the—”
“That was me,” a voice comes near the tent opening.
We both whirl to find James standing there, looking pissed. “Don’t you dare touch her.”
Immediately, Colm takes the explanation, not at all surprised to find James here. “Figures. First on the track and now this. Can’t tolerate anyone being better than you or taking what you think is yours when you have no claim.” Colm glances at me before continuing. “You said I could go for it.”
“What?” I don’t mean to speak, let alone be loud, but I am. Anger brings heat to my face. I feel like I’m boiling over. He said to go for it? Does that also mean he put Colm up to this, told him that it was okay?
James hands curl into fists. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”
“And yet, those were your exact words.”
I intake a breath so noticeable James’s eyes cut to me before focusing back on Colm.
“Did you ask her though? Did you ask her?” I’ve never heard James so upset.
An echo of my own feelings. If for even a moment I had thought Colm was trying to kiss me I’d have moved away, not allowed myself to be even in distance for him to …
That wasn’t my first kiss, my every cell wants to scream. That can’t be the first time I kiss someone.
“You’re the one that broke us apart.” Colm smiles as he says this.
If it’s possible, my stomach sinks lower and my body trembles in disgust. To claim I pushed him away would out my crafting ability.
Which means I have to follow this narrative: Colm kisses me, James forces him away. My own thoughts and feelings discarded.
“We’re done,” James says low and quiet.
“What?”
“If you ever need anything again, don’t look to me for help. You’re dead to me.”
Colm laughs. “All this over a copper? You are seriously deranged in your taste for—”
James sticks out his hand and crafts. I can feel it, the wave of weight coursing past me and directly at Colm.
That bronze necklace becomes an anchor, slamming him down on the table with a bang.
He lands on his back, right on his wounds.
The cry that comes out of him can only be described as brutal.
When James doesn’t let up, I step between the boys and right in front of James. I catch the invisible stream of his power, cutting it off from Colm and holding the pressure steady. “You’re supposed to hate me, remember,” I whisper.
My words stop James cold. The crafting drops like a weight on the floor. And I know he’s realized what this looks like. Or more what this doesn’t look like. Because James’s actions sure don’t tell the story of two people who hate one another. He looks like someone defending my honor.
“I—” James starts.