“Y-Yes ma’am.”
“Then do it.”
The boy didn’t wait for more permission. He ran directly into the woods and within moments the sounds of him running dissipated into the night.
“You let him go,” Akadian remarked as he helped her stand straight, holding her arm steady as though he were terrified she’d collapse. “Are you sure that was wise?”
Ambrose bent down to look at the metal mage’s torn body. His braid now lay open and a tangled mess. His cropped beard now a dark red from the blood that had soaked into the fibers. She reached into the belt on his side and pulled one of the daggers from its sheathe. A beautiful blade the color of onyx with a carved black iron handle in the shape of a dragon.
“He didn’t participate in the fight.” She grabbed another one and tucked both of them into the torn leg of her fighting leathers as a make-shift sheathe. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Dizziness swept over her and she rocked on her feet, head swimming as blood and heat rushed up her face. Akadian steadied her as she reared her head forward and vomited what was left of the contents of her stomach. She wondered how much blood she’d lost. Healers could do a lot, but if she lost too much, it could be days before she regained the amount she was supposed to have.
“Whoa there.” Akadian grabbed her as she stumbled. “Careful.”
She gave him a smile that was meant to reassure him but her body defied her and if he hadn’t been holding onto her, she likely would’ve collapsed again. Sleep and exhaustion tore at her mind as her muscles and body begged for relief. He looked at her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher—as though he were weighing two options against each other and didn’t like either result.
“We need to get you back to the palace,” he whispered softly but sternly,his grip on her tightening as he pulled her to his chest.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt as fear rushed through her veins like acid.
She couldn’t go back.
The tournament was so close now. If she went back, there’d be no turning back. She’d never get an opportunity outside the palace like this one again. Only death waiting to welcome her with open arms.
“No, I can keep going,” she protested and pushed herself away from him. As she took a step her head pounded and she fell to her hands and knees, her entire body shaking violently. Her right hand fell on something jagged and she grimaced as a throbbing pain shot up her arm. Her body betrayed her as she struggled to stand again.
“I’m taking you back to the palace. You’re in no condition to stay out here.” He reached for her again.
“We can’t!” She had to think quick. “What about the others?”
A darkness fell over his features and she didn’t need to ask to know what it meant.
They were all dead.
“No…” she whispered, her face cold and blank. They couldn’t be. “How do you know?”
He looked away so she wouldn’t see the shame on his face. “I heard their screams.”
“Then you don’t know if they’re dead!” she insisted. “They could still be alive! Maybe hurt somewhere, we have to find them.”
Akadian shook his head, dark waves swinging as his eyes bore into her and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Almost no one survives an encounter with the Alkijin.”
“I did!” Her vision blurred with tears. “I did! Which means they could have.”
No. They couldn’t all be dead. Not because of her.
She was a curse.
A monster.
He stood a little taller and squared his shoulders. “You can tell me abouthow you did that when we get back to the palace. I’m taking you back.”
“No!” She fought to make her legs move. One of them had to be alive.
Akadian pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest, his own breathing sharp and uneven. His touch was firm, but gentle as he dipped his head next to her ear. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”
Pressed into him so tightly, she could feel that his heart was beating even faster than her own. He took a deep breath and did something she never would have expected to see in her lifetime and wouldn’t have believed had she not witnessed it for herself. From his shoulder blades a pair of wings burst to life and extended above them.
