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Niles beats me to the stage. And what he does at first impulse makes me want to fall to my knees and cry like a little boy. It sends an arrow straight through my heart.
Niles—he scoops her legs off the ground. He tries to put them back on her body.
I race up the stairs to the stage, careful not to slip on the blood.
“Niles,” I croak, holding back my tears. “I have to get her down.”
He looks up at me in belligerent anguish, tears gushing down his cheeks to his neck. He looks as disheveled and incoherent as I feel. And the thing is, he still doesn’t know she was never a traitor. He’s letting himself come to her aid, no matter what.
“But”—Niles hiccups on a sob—“her legs.”
I don’t listen to another word. All I can focus on now is saving Ruth. She doesn’t even look up at me as I rip the straps off her paling body.
“I’ve got you, Ruth,” I say in a shaky voice.
The only sign of life is a slow blink. A movement I’ll accept as a glimmer of hope.
After tearing off the last strap, I hook my hands under Ruth’s arms, half expecting her to grab onto my shoulders. She doesn’t. She just…hangs in my grasp. The sight fills my eyes with tears.
“What do you need me to do?” Dessin is at my side, placing a hand on her back for support.
“Support her legs while I adjust her body so I can carry her in my arms,” I say in a rush. “Gently. Please. Be gentle.”
Dessin nods, wasting no time to angle his hands under her lower thighs, helping me lift her so I can cradle her to my chest, hugging her close. Her forehead grazes my neck, and it’s cold. So fucking cold. Like melting ice against my skin.
“Move! All you fuckers either clear the path or die where you stand!”
I flinch at the sudden shouting voice. Helga Bee and Gerta herd people out of our way so we can leave easily.
“I’ll find medicine,” Marilynn announces in a panic. “What else should I find?”
“Clean cloths, hot water, a needle, and thread! I don’t care what you have to do to find a needle, but I can’t save her life without one,” Dessin commands, sweat glistening across his forehead. “Also, a belt and alcohol!”
Rotating to face the opening path, I come face-to-face with Skylenna. Her usual glowing, golden face is now completely white. The whites of her eyes are as dark as blood, falling to where Ruth’s legs once were.
“Do something to help or get the hell out of my way, Skylenna,” I bark, red flares smudging the edges of my vision.
This briefly snaps her out of that lost trance. She stands up straighter, pulling back her shoulders. “I’ll find blankets for her.”
Niles leads the way back to our cages with Ruth’s legs in his arms. Blood drenches his chest and pants, but he doesn’t notice. He just keeps running. Just keeps yelling back at Ruth to hold on.
As we turn a corner, I look down at Ruth to check if she’s still breathing. It’s shallow. Labored. But she blinks away a single tear, and I have to battle the longing to cry with her. For her.
“I’m going to make you better, Ruth,” I pant, kissing her once on the top of her head.
Dessin is careful to hold her legs up, adding pressure to her wounds to try and keep the blood loss at bay.
“Stop in the showers. We have to do this now. She’s losing too much blood.” He’s right. My left side is soaked in vibrant color, painting my glistening skin in Ruth’s gore.
Our actions blur together as we lower her to the shower floor. It’s damp in certain areas and reeks of mildew and rusting metal, but it’ll have to do for now.
“Where the hell is Marilynn?” Dessin raises his voice, signaling for me to sit next to him. “I want you to hold her right leg up and add pressure here—yes, that’s right.”
I hold her wound firmly, adding strength to a place that’s pulsing riotously.
“Niles! I need you to hold her other leg.”
Niles is standing two feet away from us, carrying Ruth’s dismembered legs like he’s clinging to the only hope we have.
