Chapter Thirty-Two #3
Kane screamed as Hugh’s blood sprayed onto the dirt and he fell to his knees, eyes wide and choking.
Zya gasped. The clearing fell utterly silent but for the sounds of Hugh dying.
I took a step forward. Healing. I could heal him, that was one of my Blessings.
But then a second sword appeared at Kane’s throat and I stopped.
“I would advise against that,” Chassina said coolly.
I glared at her, hate rolling off of me in waves, but the Darkness was retreating, driven back by either my fear or the hopelessness of the situation.
We were outnumbered and Chassina had at least a thousand years of experience on me.
I couldn’t call the Dark in the best of times.
There was no way I was going to take on an ancient Champion and six of her guards.
And Zya, no matter how good she was with her dagger, wasn’t going to help.
So the Dark retreated, as if to save itself, to spare itself this.
But before it disappeared entirely, it became a voice, almost like my own but different somehow.
Come, it called to anyone who would listen. Help.
There was a moment of silence before, to my astonishment, a response.
Coming.
Wings rustled above us, sending the leaves on the trees above swirling away and leaving us exposed to the sky.
Chassina looked up, worry creasing her brow as she took a tentative step back.
Her men went with her, dragging Kane along, blade still poised at his throat.
Her concern turned to hatred as Rainier dismounted his Zver, boots squelching in the mud before him.
Of his six original riders, only two were at his side.
I wondered briefly what happened to the others.
Were they in battle somewhere else? Had they fallen?
Were they even alive? Then I saw Hugh still choking on his own blood, and I didn’t care anymore.
“Chass,” Rainier growled the familiar nickname with all the pleasantry of old schoolyard rivals meeting up again after years apart.
“Rainier,” Chassina spat, dark eyes blazing.
“Am I finally going to get to kill you after all these years?” Rainier asked, drawing his sword.
I inched toward Hugh. Chassina and her warriors had their eyes settled firmly on Rainier and his Zver.
They'd forgotten about us entirely, having decided Rainier was the bigger threat.
I slid forward slowly so as not to draw their attention.
Zya noticed and, catching my eye, gave me an encouraging nod.
Her grip around her dagger tightened but she, otherwise, didn't move a muscle.
Kane was breathing heavily. His eyes were wide and frantic as tears spilled down his cheeks.
He stared at Hugh who was making gurgling noises now.
“Tell me, how is Harlowe?” Chassina asked. She tried to make her tone mocking but I could hear the sincerity in it all the same. She genuinely wanted to know. "I'd love to bring news back to Alosia."
“Come and find out.”
Chassina scoffed and then struck, faster than I could have imagined, faster than anyone without the Blessings could have even seen.
But Rainier had the Blessings too, so their blades met, sending sparks throughout the clearing, illuminating every tree and stone each time they clashed together.
Rainier’s men hovered at the edge of their fight.
Chassina’s stepped forward as well, reaching for the swords hung at their sides.
All of them were powerless to help. And none of them were paying attention to anything other than the two ancient heroes fighting before them.
I'd made it to Hugh. I knelt quietly on the grass, making sure not to knock into any stones that might make noise.
Chassina's soldiers had drifted farther away, closer to the the fight.
The one who held Kane had dragged him along as well.
Keeping one eye on them, I pressed my palms to Hugh's chest. Forcing myself to stay calm and breathe, I met his wide eyes before I began knitting him back together.
Once I felt his heartbeat grow stronger, once I noticed the blood spurting from his neck had slowed to a trickle, I looked up at Zya and nodded. She understood, slipping away just as I did, but toward the enemy this time.
I remained rooted to my spot, fearing that any movement from me would draw the eye of one of Chassina’s men.
I was, after all, their intended target.
So I kept my hands against Hugh's chest, pumping healing magic into him for as long as my body had the strength to do so.
His hand gripped my wrist, lips moving but no sound coming out.
I understood anyway and nodded at his gratitude.
Then I lifted my gaze to the brawling heroes as Zya sneaked across the clearing to the man holding Kane.
She'd just raised her dagger to strike when he whirled, knocking it out of her hand with his own.
“Sneaky bitch,” he growled, throwing Kane down and advancing upon her.
“No!” I screamed, unable to help myself.
The fighting ceased. Everyone turned to see what I was shouting about as the man raised his dagger above Zya who he'd backed against a boulder.
I couldn't move. My hands were fused to Hugh's chest, healing his fatal wound.
Frantic, I reached for the dark, hoping it could reach Zya where I could not.
One moment, the soldier's hand was plunging down toward my friend's chest, the next his neck exploded in a spray of blood and viscera that had him falling into the dirt an instant later.
An arrow protruded from his throat.
Gryfon stepped from the tree line beyond the clearing, lowering a bow, lips set in a grim line as he glared at Chassina and her men who were now surrounded. More of his warriors emerged from the shadows and Rainier grinned broadly, tightening his grip on the sword in his hand.
“You,” Gryfon growled, eyes narrowing at the woman before him.
“Traitor,” she spat, the word vicious and brutal.
Before anyone could say another word, she flicked her wrist and a dagger went spinning for Gryfon’ heart.
My body reacted before my mind, a dark plume of smoke shooting from my chest to engulf her blade.
The dagger burst apart, shards of steel shooting throughout the clearing and sending everyone running for cover.
I slumped forward, hands slipping from Hugh's bloody chest. The shadows soared back into my body, feeding me with their returned energy, but it wasn't enough.
That little burst of magic, combined with the healing I'd been using on Hugh, had drained me.
When I finally managed to raise my head again, I found Chassina wasn’t disappointed that her blow hadn’t landed. Instead, she was smiling.
“So you do have it,” she said, happily. “Thank you very much for the verification, Third Ringer. At least this trip hasn’t been totally wasted.”
Then, with one final grin, she shot up into the sky, flying away on nothing but the wind and vanishing in an instant. I gaped up at the sky where she'd been a moment before. She could fly? Could I do that?
“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked.
I looked back to find Gryfon at my side, probing me for injuries while his eyes met mine.
“I’m fine,” I replied, peering past him to where Rainier and Gryfon’s own men were taking Chassina’s men’s spears from them and casting them in chains. “I’m—”
I hesitated. She'd left them to be captured. Her own men. She hadn’t even spared them a second thought before leaving them to their enemy. My gaze drifted down to where Hugh lay sprawled in the dirt. He was breathing hard, staring up at the sky with wide eyes, blood coating every inch of him.
"Hugh," I said.
He took a shuddered breath.
"I'm okay," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "I'm alive. I'm—"
"You shouldn't speak yet," I told him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze even though it left a bloody handprint to do so. "Your throat was seriously damaged. I've healed the fatal wound but more needs to be done. As soon as I can rest, I'll—"
I tried to rise and faltered, falling sideways into Gryfon who gripped my waist in his hands and helped me stand, brows knitted in concern.
“Adrian," Gryfon warned. I could hear the worry in his tone.
"I'm fine," I assured him. I tried to wave him off, placing a hand on his muscled chest and pushing away, but my knees gave out once more.
Zya was there, gripping my arms and hoisting me upright. She looked over my head to give a meaningful look to Gryfon. The General only grunted before my feet left the ground and I found myself cradled against his chest. He held me in his arms as he turned and barked orders to his men.
"Carry that one if he needs it," he commanded, nodding once toward Hugh. "Find Prima and tell her I've got Adrian."
His men didn't hesitate to split off and carry out his orders.
I opened my mouth to protest the treatment.
I wanted to remind him I wasn't some weak damsel in distress in need of carrying.
I wanted to demand he put me down that instant and allow me to walk back on my own, to retain some form of dignity as we made our way back to the camp.
But he was warm and strong and my eyes were already closing with the motion of his graceful movement.
Before my eyelids shuttered closed completely, I sighed his name.
"Gryfon."
His jaw tensed. I could see every muscle as they clenched against the sweetness in my voice I hadn't necessarily meant to intone.
“Adrian,” Gryfon spoke my name slowly, carefully.
“She called you a traitor,” I recalled, blinking at him. “Why?”
He looked down at me and held my gaze. There was something in those icy blue eyes I couldn't name. The same unspoken pain they always held but something else too. Fear, perhaps, or a frigid, simmering rage. It was so hard to tell with him.
"You called the dark," he reminded me instead of answering my question. Something about that felt wrong but I was too tired to argue. "Rest now. We'll be back at camp soon."
The disagreement was on the tip of my tongue but it fizzled away to ash as I slipped out of consciousness and the General carried me out of the woods.