Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Dorian
My vision had gone dark at the edges at least a span ago. Tar had replaced blood in my veins; my pulse had become sludgy. My heart beat too hard.
I had to keep her safe. Had to get us there before—
“Dorian.” Behind me, Eury’s voice had taken on a careful quality, like a mother to her child. “Stop the horse.”
“No.”
“Stop the fucking horse.”
I didn’t.
Eury shifted behind me, gripping my shoulders with one hand on each. She hauled herself around me while the horse galloped and dropped herself into the seat in front of me, her back to my chest. When had she lost all fear of death?
She yanked the reins from my hands—or tried. “Let go.”
I wouldn’t let go. I had to get us there.
She half-turned in the seat; her hand rose and whipped across my cheek. White light burst behind my eyes. “You’re going to get us killed. Give me the reins.”
I let go—the sting was far less potent than the shock—then slumped against her. The strength had gone out of me. It was all I could do to stay on while she slowed the horse to a walk.
Somehow she bore up against my weight. Time stretched and shrank as she walked the horse. We passed trees, the sunlight heated my scalp, and eventually clouds appeared. It began to rain, slowly and then all at once.
Acid rain. My old friend.
The horse whinnied and fought her once the rain started, but somehow she kept him in forward motion.
My clothes were soaked through by the time the horse’s hooves clopped on stone. We passed into darkness and an enclosed, earthy place. A cave. So many lined the mountainside, we could be anywhere.
Eury’s voice came from far away. “Get off the horse, Dorian.”
I wanted to do it, but my body no longer obeyed. The muscles wouldn’t fire. The ligaments wouldn’t bend.
The command came again. Again.
With a low growl, I pulled one leg over and half-dropped off the horse’s back. I hit the cave floor with a groan, back-first, and stayed there as pain ricocheted through my spine.
Eury came to stand over me, shrouded by the light. Child of dirt, daughter of scorn, autumn queen. Carys’s heir.
She could make it. She could force them all to kneel in the bloody grass.
“Go.” My voice threaded between immobile lips. “Ride to the iron gates.”
She crouched, her eyes almost as blue as the dragon’s. Her fingers touched my cheek, and she turned my face toward her. “Don’t talk nonsense.”