Chapter 37 #2
The doors had burned to ash, and fire raged within, but most of the smoke was floating toward the northeast side of the room, likely toward the window Corinne had seen from a distance. The flames tugged at her, the feeling filling her chest, calling to her wildly.
Aryel. She had to find Aryel now.
She dashed into the throne room, the flames once again clearing before her. It was nearly impossible to see with all the smoke and fire, the debris falling from the ceiling. Still, she pressed onward, heading for the dais, for where Aryel usually stood.
Something nearly tripped her, and she looked down in horror at the body of a guard. Whoever it had been was now burned beyond recognition. Fear gripped Corinne’s throat, and she hurried onward.
“Aryel!” she called. “Aryel!”
Corinne’s fear grew as she drew closer to the dais and stepped around more bodies.
What had done this? After tearing her gaze away from the vacant stare of a minimally burned but still-dead guard, she caught sight of a moving figure by the base of the dais steps.
She rushed forward and leaned down, reaching for the woman’s shoulders.
It took her a nauseatingly horrible moment to recognize Queen Erina as she gasped for breath, half her face burnt raw.
The larger figure behind her, burnt and slumped on his throne, did not stir.
The king was dead.
“Aryel,” Queen Erina choked, grasping weakly at Corinne’s sleeve. “The window.”
Corinne’s head whipped around, finding a shattered window, and sure enough, her eyes landed on a silhouette on the ground beneath it.
“Leave…me,” the queen croaked. “Save…my son…save…”
Corinne met the queen’s eyes, the right bloodshot and unfocused, surrounded by melted skin. Even if she had time, Corinne did not have the strength to heal the queen and Aryel both.
“I will,” she vowed.
She released the dying queen and ran for Aryel.
Please. Please.
She fell to her knees beside him. The left side of his face and his arm were covered in shards of broken glass, blood streaming down his skin and staining his clothes. His leg was badly burned, the fabric of his burnt trousers stuck to the glistening, raw skin along his thigh.
Corinne reached for his neck and nearly sobbed at the presence of a faint pulse.
Her strength was dwindling, but so was his grasp on life, so Corinne gathered her light in her palms and pressed them to his chest. Lungs first, then the burn on his leg.
She couldn’t let herself get to the same point of exhaustion she had when healing Aeson, but she had to heal him enough to get him out of here alive.
The sound of a wheezing cough as he awoke was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
“Ari,” she sobbed, her hands going to his face.
His eyes took a moment to focus, bloodshot and halfway open. “Corinne,” he rasped, then cried out as he shifted.
“Hold on,” she said quickly, placing one hand over his burn. With the other, she carefully removed the glass from his face, making him hiss in pain.
She let the magic flow out of her with calculated precision, or as much as she could manage, and some of the agony on his face faded.
“We have to move,” she said once she’d partially healed the burn.
It would have to do for now. “Grab onto me and stand with me on three, all right?” She gripped the front of his tattered shirt, ignoring the insistent warning of exhaustion in the back of her mind, and he gripped her shoulders. “One…two…three.”
With a cry, Aryel managed to sit up, then stand with her. Corinne bore the brunt of his weight, draping his arm over her shoulders as she guided him out of the throne room as quickly as possible. She glanced back at the dais, and her heart lurched at the sight of the queen no longer moving.
Just a few more steps and they’d be out of the worst of the fire. The flames were closer than before with Corinne’s magic weakened after healing Aryel, but they managed to get out of the throne room without sustaining any more burns.
The flames outside had nearly gone out, and Corinne almost collapsed as Aryel’s knees gave way.
She kept him from tumbling to the floor, helping him lean on a pile of debris that looked sturdier than others.
She held his hand tightly, allowing him a moment to breathe.
They still had to get out of the north wing, get off the third floor.
“Corinne,” Aryel said, his voice strained.
She met his eyes, startled by the fear she found there.
“Please tell me you didn’t know.”
Her brow furrowed. “Didn’t know—?”
Footsteps hurried toward them, and Corinne whipped around, squinting at the three figures approaching. She could have sobbed with relief.
“Vera,” she choked out, her hand tightening on Aryel’s behind her. Two other Lightguards flanked Vera, all of them glowing with their magic. “Thank Helaera.”
“Corinne, what are you doing here?” Vera asked, her eyes wide.
“I heard the explosion and saw the fire from beyond the city,” she said. “Please, Vera, we have to get Aryel out of here, I was only able to partially heal him.”
None of the Lightguards moved. What was wrong with them? Did they not hear her? Corinne stared at them, at the pain on Vera’s face, and the swords in their hands—and the blood on the blades.
“Corinne, please don’t make me do this,” Vera said.
“Do what?” Corinne asked, her voice rough.
Aryel took a shuddering breath behind her, tugging weakly at her hand. “They set the fire,” he told her. “They locked us inside. My parents—”
“They’re dead,” one of the Lightguards by Vera barked. “And you will be soon.”
No. No, they couldn’t have…
Vera took a step forward. “Corinne, we can explain. Just hand over the prince and we can talk.”
Corinne didn’t move, still grasping Aryel’s hand. That hateful, pitying look was plastered across Vera’s face. She turned to look at Aryel, who was watching the Lightguards with hatred in his eyes.
“Stay behind me,” she said, her voice hard. He looked up at her, and before he could respond, she faced the Lightguards again, releasing his hand and drawing her sword.
It ignited.
“Corinne,” Vera said. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Corinne didn’t move, but she kept her eyes on Vera and the others, ready for them to attack.
“You have one last chance,” Vera said, her stance shifting. “Stand aside.”
Corinne raised her sword. “No.”
The pity vanished from Vera’s face, replaced by unbridled rage.
A half second later, a burst of light flew at Corinne, which she caught and hurled back at the Lightguard on Vera’s right.
Vera charged forward, and Corinne blocked the slash of her sword with her own, the impact reverberating up her arms. She forced Vera back and barely dodged another magic attack from the third Lightguard.
Another minute of dodging, countering, and taking the brunt of everything they threw at her, and Corinne stumbled backward, crashing into Aryel.
Even in his weakened state, he helped steady her as the Lightguards stalked closer.
“Corinne,” he said hoarsely, gripping her arm. “You don’t have to do this. Save yourself.”
“I am saving myself,” she ground out, and lunged at them again.
She landed a blow to one of the Lightguards that sent him crumpling to the ground. All she had to do was hold off Vera and the other one.
He ran at Aryel, and Corinne flung her magic at him, forcing him back at the same moment Aryel launched a shard of glass at him. It hit its mark, grazing the man’s cheek.
The moment of distraction gave Vera an opening to deal a nasty slice to Corinne’s side. Corinne hissed in pain; she didn’t have the energy to heal it right now.
“You can’t win this fight, Corinne,” Vera growled.
Corinne’s magic attempted to heal her anyway, and even the effort of pulling it back in cost her. Her vision started shifting. Just a few more moments. A few more attacks. Shaking her head, she took a defensive stance again.
A magic attack from Vera’s ally clipped her shoulder, throwing her off-balance. A moment later, Vera had her on the floor, pressing her face to the charred carpet.
“Corinne!” Aryel’s voice sliced her open more sharply than Vera’s blade had.
All she could see was the Lightguard bearing down on him as he attempted to reach her. She tried to rise, tried to force her muscles to engage. An inch off the floor, pain shot through her skull, and darkness swept in.