Chapter 14
Killian
The first thing Killian noticed was the scent. The air tasted different as he gulped down breath after breath, more like pine and grass than the smell of a river drifting through a city.
The second thing he noted, as the ringing in his ears faded away, was the near silence.
Beside him, Elyse breathed heavily. Crickets chirped in the nearby trees, and a breeze stirred the leaves, but that was all.
No screams, no ravens, no thunderous roar as the street crumbled and cobblestones toppled down into an endless pit.
No Manny. No Sera.
“Elyse,” Killian let out, somewhere between a sigh and a reprimand.
She was hunched over, a grimace twisting her face.
She still gripped his forearm tightly, her nails pinching at his skin.
Blood coated the back of her undershirt.
Killian gritted his teeth. She was hurt.
She needed medical attention, and he would ensure that she received it.
But first, they needed to get their friends.
Elyse seemed to realize she was still holding onto Killian. She flung his arm away as she stood straight, or as straight as she could. Killian felt a pang in his chest. It pained him to see her in this way, even as his frenzied mind told him that she would be okay, that she had endured far worse.
“We have to go back,” he declared, stepping toward her.
Elyse glared up at him. Despite her ragged posture and her drained face—or perhaps because of it—she looked deeply intimidating.
“We have to get Sera and Manny,” Killian went on, more pleading this time. “We can’t just—”
“No.” The single syllable wavered on her breath, but Elyse glared at Killian, a stubborn line drawn between her eyes. She turned from him, a hand on her lower back, and started to walk away.
It was then that Killian noticed the wooden building.
Plain and rectangular with a single lantern illuminating the door.
He knew that behind the building was the mouth of a cave that led down to a secluded set of healing springs.
He knew that inside the building was an excellent healer and a few good friends.
They were at Privya’s.
Even as his soul rejoiced at being back at the clinic, he moved to Elyse, ready to object. He laid a hand on her shoulder, arresting her movement. Elyse spun toward him. Her eyes were alight with a murderous rage.
“Don’t touch me,” she spat, wincing with each syllable.
Killian relinquished his touch. He felt his expression soften as his heart churned, mingling with pain for Elyse’s injury and fear for his friends. And beneath all that, a simmering anger, because Elyse had chosen to leave them behind.
“Please—I don’t have a potion,” he began. He’d left his whole pack back at the inn. He didn’t even have a shirt to wear, let alone a way to transport back to Levoy. “Manny and Sera are—”
“I can’t.” Elyse ground out the words.
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Killian growled. He was quickly growing tired of this.
Every second they waited might cost their friends’ lives.
Elyse was injured, but she was standing, walking.
The woman he loved would never have left anyone to die in that city.
She would have given her last breath to get every man, woman, and child out.
And while he was glad she had made it out alive and relatively unscathed, he was disgusted.
This Elyse—this soulless monster—couldn’t even be bothered to rescue her friends.
Because they weren’t her friends. And Killian was nothing more than collateral to her. That was the only reason he was still breathing.
The thought stung like acid, worse than the burning intensity of Elyse’s hate-filled gaze.
“Can’t,” she finally answered. “I lost too much blood, and it drained my magic. I only had enough power left to get us here,” she declared with a jerk of her chin toward the clinic. “Not back.”
Killian’s stomach bottomed out, falling hard like the cobblestones. He opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but was spared by the clinic’s door springing open.
“I thought I heard voices out here!” came a cheery, lilting voice.
Auburn curls bounced toward them from the doorway as Corin ran to greet them.
She stopped abruptly as she took in their state, her smile dropping.
Killian wasn’t sure what exactly made her already wide eyes grow rounder—Elyse’s sneer, her haggard appearance, or simply her unannounced presence in general.
“Get Privya,” Elyse demanded as she stalked past Corin and toward the clinic.
Killian chased after her, not bothering to bid hello to Corin. “You left them,” he shouted as Elyse entered the clinic’s main room. He cut her off and spun to face her, prohibiting her from taking another step. “You left our friends to die.”
“Your friends,” she hissed. “I don’t need or want them.”
Killian roared. His hands were balled into fists, desperate to punch something, anything.
He’d never felt so out of control before.
A fierce loyalty burned in his chest, an avenging sort of anger that demanded retaliation on behalf of Manny and Sera.
Manny, his dearest friend, his comrade and brother, and Sera, who had never lost faith in Elyse.
Corin appeared in the doorway behind Elyse and gasped. “You’re hurt.”
Elyse merely threw a glare over her shoulder. “I told you to get Privya.”
Corin’s eyes shot to Killian, and he gave her a sympathetic look.
She knew that Elyse had given up her soul for Killian—he’d been the one to tell her—but they hadn’t known what that entailed.
Witnessing firsthand the detachment in Elyse’s eyes and the venom in her voice was agonizing, and Killian could see that pain reflected in Corin’s face.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Killian turned to see Privya clad in her usual white, one hand elegantly poised on the banister. Her black hair was plaited neatly, and her pursed lips parted to ask, “What’s happened?”
Elyse pushed past Killian. “I’ve been injured,” she said curtly. “My back. I can’t reach it well enough to heal it myself.”
Privya, moving with a combination of grace and urgency, hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. As she began inspecting Elyse’s back, Killian turned to Corin.
“Do you have any transportation potion?” he pressed.
Her eyes flickered over his shoulder, watching with concern as Privya assessed Elyse. Then she met Killian’s gaze with despondence.
“I don’t have any,” she said quietly. She lowered her face. “I used all the ones Elyse gave me.”
Killian’s chest tightened as helplessness gripped him. His friends were hundreds of miles away—if they were still alive—and he could do nothing to aid them. He whirled, ready to spew more fury at Elyse, but Privya stood between them.
Her expression was stern as she said, “Outside—now.” A single long finger was extended toward the door. She didn’t wait for him to obey before she pivoted to Elyse and her blood-soaked back. Killian gave Elyse one last loathing look before he stormed toward the door.
Corin didn’t follow. He heard Privya order her to fetch something from her office as he shut the door.
With a flick of his hand, Killian extinguished the lantern’s flame and let the darkness swallow him.
He paced the area in front of the building, trying desperately to calm himself, but it didn’t work.
No matter how many steps he took, or how many breaths he forced in and out of his lungs, all he could picture was Manny and Sera slipping down into that deep, fathomless pit.
Something stirred in the air, and Killian whipped his head toward the trees. Two shadows formed, their silhouettes clouded. He heard panting breaths, and his heart hammered. Their figures grew more defined: two people, their hands clasped together.
“Manny?” he asked hesitantly. He guarded his heart against false hope—yet who else would show up here in the middle of the night?
“Oh, thank the gods,” he heard a familiar voice shout.
And then Manny was running toward him, his face ashen, a cut across his cheek.
The two men gripped each other tightly by the shoulders, grateful to be reunited.
Killian held out his arm, and Sera joined them, the three of them embracing as Killian’s heart nearly beat out of his chest.
They stood like that for a while, their arms wrapped tightly around one another, unable to let go.
Sera’s voice wavered as she asked, “Where’s Elyse?”
Finally, Killian took a step back. Manny still held Sera, and she leaned into him as if she needed the support. She, too, had several cuts up and down her arms, but they appeared superficial.
“She’s inside, getting healed,” Killian answered. He tried not to let his anger rise again, but he could hear it in his voice.
“Is she all right?” Manny asked with a glance toward the clinic.
“Aye,” Killian said. “She lost a good amount of blood, but she was up and walking.”
“She left us,” Sera breathed. She said it as if she couldn’t quite believe it, as if she’d been denying it up until that point. “She looked right at me and then—then she disappeared.”
“I know,” Killian said solemnly. He looked at his bare feet, unable to meet their gazes.
He had nothing to be ashamed of, yet he felt guilty for Elyse’s actions.
“I’m so sorry. I told her to take us back, but she said she’d lost too much blood to travel that far again.
And Corin didn’t have any transportation potions.
” He chanced a glimpse at his friend’s faces, at the cut across Manny’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“We grabbed our packs when we heard the commotion,” Manny said, patting the satchel on his back. “We were trying to get as many people inside as we could, and then…” He trailed off, and Killian knew he was hearing the same sickening crack as the earth split open to swallow the street.
Sera continued for him. “As soon as the street began to crumble, we tried to gather whoever we could and transport them away, but it was so terrible. Everyone was panicking and running around, and the street was falling so fast.”
“We had a few potions in our bags, so we went to the palace first,” Manny explained. “But when you weren’t there, we thought we’d try here.”
“That was smart,” Killian said, grateful Elyse had picked a place that was somewhat predictable.
The door to the clinic opened, and Privya strode to Killian and the others. “Manny. Sera,” she said by way of greeting. Her gaze lingered over their wounds. “I would be happy to heal those for you.”
“Thank you,” Sera said.
“We’re sorry to impose—” Manny began, but Privya lifted her hand.
“It’s no imposition,” she offered with a hint of warmth. “You’re always welcome here.”
“How’s Elyse?” Killian asked.
Privya cocked a brow. “I gave her something to make her sleep,” she answered. “She needs rest—but mostly, I was tired of her glaring at me.”
Killian suppressed a smile. Being around Privya was soothing, as if even her personality had a medicinal quality.
“Get inside,” the healer said with a nod of her head toward the clinic. “You need rest as well.”
Manny and Sera, haggard as they were, didn’t argue. They hobbled toward the clinic, Privya and Killian falling into step behind them.
In a low voice, Killian asked, “Can you give me something to sleep, too? Something to stifle my dreams, if possible?”
Privya agreed, and less than ten minutes later, Killian was asleep in a spare room. The bitter potion Privya provided worked. Killian didn’t dream about the flutter of black wings, about Lazarus’s wretched smile, or about the cold determination in Elyse’s eyes as she abandoned her friends.
At least, not that night.