Chapter 27 #2
I turn my attention to the boy on the ground.
His breathing is too shallow; his heartbeat is weak.
I can feel the heat of the injury on his back.
It blooms from the breaking points along his spine in both directions.
Nerves are already dead, limbs already disconnected and limp. For some reason, it terrifies me.
When I worked as a healer in the borderlands, I mended injuries like this often. I repaired severed limbs and called back souls hovering on the precipice of oblivion. But that was before burnout. Still, I was able to save Hunter. I just need to remember how I did it.
My power swirls inside me, anxious and ready. I close my eyes and try to focus on it. I draw the golden light out, little by little, coaxing it forth. Sweat begins to prickle on my skin. The power resists me, like pulling a worm from the dirt. I lose my grip, and it snaps back into hiding.
Frustrated, I sit on my heels to think. I can feel Nalina’s eyes on me, judging. No doubt wondering if she’s made a terrible mistake in bringing me here.
I steady myself as I feel the weight of the room press in around me. Nalina, Elisandra, and the man are watching, waiting. The man’s face isn’t filled with fear anymore. It’s filled with hope.
I lean closer to the boy and reach a trembling hand to his forehead.
His skin is fire. Sweat clings to his pale skin, making his hair damp and matted.
I press my palm against his chest, feeling the weak, shallow rhythm of his heartbeat.
My own chest tightens in response. He should have died already, given the way his body is shutting down.
But still, he clings to life, like a flickering candle in a storm.
“Please,” the man beside me whispers again, his voice pleading.
I nod slowly, taking a deep breath. My power stirs inside me. I close my eyes and feel it hum in my chest, trying to break free. It pulls at me, struggling to be released. No more control, I remind myself. I need to let go.
This time, when I reach out toward the boy on the quilts, something feels different. My hands don’t shake. I close my eyes, and instead of forcing my power, I feel it. It swirls and flows through my body, a warm, golden light. I don’t try to tell it what to do; I just rely on instinct.
Energy swirls just beneath my skin. Sweat beads along my brow, and the temperature in the room shifts as a strange heat radiates from me. Serenity washes over me before the dam breaks.
My power surges from my core, rushing through my body and down my arms, seeping from my palms. It reaches into the boy, mending broken nerves, and fusing the shattered bones together. His body jerks beneath my hands, but I hold firm, not daring to stop.
I can feel his soul hovering near the edge of life and death. Somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind, I call to it.
Come back. It’s not your time.
There’s a long moment of uncertainty. Then, with a jolt, the boy’s life force rushes back into his body. Finally, his breathing steadies. The fever that burned through him fades.
His eyes snap open. For a split second, his pupils are dilated with panic, but then they focus on me.
The fear in them morphs into confusion. Elisandra rushes to the boy’s side, and the man lets out a choked sob of relief.
His hands tremble as he reaches for the boy, stroking his hair with shaking fingers.
“It’s okay now. You’re going to be all right,” he whispers through tears.
The boy blinks up at me. “Why is the Fox Heir here?”
The man lets out a relieved laugh. “It’s nothing to worry about. You’re safe now. She helped you.” He pats the boy’s hand with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.
Elisandra looks at me with something like pride. “She helped us.”
The praise makes my stomach clench. I rise to my feet and step back. A wave of lightheadedness washes over me, but it passes in an instant. The power that once hummed so fiercely within me now curls back into my core like a drowsy cat.
Behind me, a door creaks open. Tabitha steps through the doorway. Her wild white hair is tangled around her face, and her eyes are wide with shock.
“Jona?” she breathes, her voice a mixture of disbelief and fear.
The boy turns toward her. His face lights up with recognition. “Grandma.”
The old woman stumbles forward, dropping to her knees beside him. She gathers him in her arms, pressing him against her chest. Tears flood down her weathered face as she holds him tight, rocking back and forth.
I should be overjoyed. I’ve done a remarkable thing, saving this boy’s life.
But as I look around the room at the joy and love these people share, I feel out of place.
After Grandmother disappeared, my family never loved me the way these people love each other.
If I had fallen from a roof as a child, my father would have left me to die—and been glad for it.
I don’t belong here. As I watch these people cry and clutch each other with a desperate love I will never understand, I see that I’ve already faded into the background. And that’s fine by me.
I grab my damp cloak off the hook and throw it over my shoulders. Nalina doesn’t make a move to follow me, but I can feel her eyes on the back of my neck as I slip out the door. The winter storm is cold and unrelenting as I walk back to the castle alone.