“Leave her, come on,” Kalan shouts.
First Ever. Now Crimson.
Crimson, who’s been at my side since I was a kid. Since the three of us were kids.
“Aten, we have to go, or her death will be for nothing. We must get Ever out.”
Rustling from around us draws my attention, and I see a few of the downed men starting to come around.
Kalan’s right. We need to go.
But I won’t leave my friend behind.
I wrap my arm behind Crimson’s knees and lift her in my arms.
“You get Ever. We go. We don’t look back,” I demand.
He nods, and we flee.
Leaving no one behind.
twenty-seven
. . .
Aten
The steady beat of our feet hitting the ground is the only noise around us. My arms cradle Crimson’s body to my chest as we make our retreat. Her weight is more than I’d ever imagined, but I refuse to let it slow me down.Her dead weight. Every muscle in my body tenses as I admit to myself what she is, let it sink in, that she’s gone. I keep my eyes ahead and grip her tighter.
We have to go. Leave. That’s the only option here.
Aslendrix, do you hear me? Stars above, help us get out of this.
She isn’t present to illuminate our path, so I keep the dark shape of Kalan ahead of me, blindly trusting the man who brought us here in the first place because he carries the only thing I care about now.
The shadows and shapes of trees threaten to encroach and send my vigilance to new heights, second-guessing every move or rustle.
“We need to be clear before dawn,” he gruffs, turning back for a second.
“Keep going, old man.”
I cast my power ahead and am met by his scattered emotions circling him like a halo. I’m not stealthy or secret, but I don’t care. He’s frightened for Ever. That’s the strongest feeling, pulsing around him like a second heartbeat. And I wish that didn’t make me even more terrified.
We don’t speak further. Both of us focused on our duties.
Our footing grows easier as the ground moves from soft foliage to harder rock. I think back to the journey here, and remember the dying forest, hoping we don’t need to go the same way. Not carrying Crimson. I can’t take her into that place.
“Is she okay?” I pant through laboured breaths, unable to keep the question to myself. I can’t reach her or sense her, like she’s on the other side of a wall of ice. Bricked off and alone.
“She’s breathing.”
She’s breathing, I repeat to myself. Again. And again.
The farther we travel, the slower our pace.
Crimson killed Fenix, so the pressure of his chase lessens, but that doesn’t account for the rest of his army—the rest of the Kirrians who follow him and the Usher.
My mind starts to piece things together, and I can’t stop it, like my magic has been charged and won’t turn off. With no chatter and only one mission, my mind has nothing to do but run over every step, every conversation, and every secret or lie that has unfolded to lead us on this journey to this point.
