I should run.
I should absolutely run.
Instead, I dart forward and swing the candlestick at the nearest Crown soldier's head.
It connects with a sickeningcrack.
He drops.
The other Crown soldier spins toward me, eyes widening when he sees me.
"The witch," he breathes.
Then Vorak's man puts a sword through his back.
The soldier I hit is groaning, trying to get up. The man with the shoulder wound—I recognize him now, one of Garrett's squad—steps forward and kicks the Crown soldier's weapon away.
"Get to the infirmary, miss," he says, breathing hard. "We'll handle this."
I nod mutely and run.
The infirmary is already full.
Matron Eska is working on a man with an arrow through his thigh, her hands steady despite the blood. Two other women I recognize from the kitchens are tearing bandages, faces pale but focused.
"You," Eska snaps when she sees me. "Pressure on this. Don't let him bleed out."
I drop to my knees beside the injured man and press both hands to the wound in his side. He gasps, teeth gritted.
"It's all right," I tell him, though I have no idea if that's true. "You're all right."
I fall into the rhythm of it—pressure, bandages, stitching when I can, comfort when I can't. My hands work automatically while my mind races.
How many Crown soldiers are there? How did they get through the wards? Where is Vorak?
The last question sends a spike of fear through my chest.
"Eska," I say as I tie off a bandage. "Where's Lord Vorak?"
"Courtyard. Last I saw." Her face is tight. "Leading the defense."
I nod and reach for the next patient.
Time blurs.
More wounded stagger in. More blood soaks into the stone floor. I stitch and bandage and hold pressure and once, just once, I feel that golden warmth stir under my skin when I touch a man who's barely breathing.
His eyes flutter open. The bleeding slows.
I pull my hand back quickly, before anyone notices.
Then Garrett bursts through the door, and the look on his face makes my blood run cold.
"It's Lord Vorak," he says. "The curse—it's taken him. Completely."
Eska's hands still. "How bad?"
"He's going to kill everyone in that courtyard if we don't stop him. Friend or foe, doesn't matter." Garrett's face is white. "Captain Rurik is trying to get the men clear, but—"
