“I’m not leaving!” Seth grabs my hand, forcing it to a small wound that is rapidly bleeding on Taran’s stomach. “Heal him, godsdammit.”
“I’m trying!”
“Sylvie, it didn’t work,” says Ronan, sitting up. “The wounds are reopening. My magic is gone.”
“Fuck!”
“Sylvie!”
“Everyone stop and give me a minute,” I say. My thoughts are rushing in a whirl of confusion. I force myself to breathe. If I can’t calm down and figure this out, they’ll die. “Taran and Ronan were poisoned, and it seems like some version of the anti-light-magic poison Zara used. It was on the blades, so it’s in their blood. It’s stopping the light magic from working, even from me.”
“And fire,” says Seth. He’s clutching his knees to his chest.
“And fire. The elixirs may still work. They’re alchemy, and not all alchemy is magic.”
“But it won’t be fast enough,” says Ronan, crawling towards Taran and clutching at his side. “Sylvie, he’s dying.”
“No, he fucking isn’t.” Seth reaches over to where I left the elixirs and smelling salts on the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting an elixir into him while you decide how to save him.”
“Ronan just said it won’t be fast enough—”
“I DON’T CARE.” Seth grips the bottle with white knuckles, his shoulders shaking with anger and fear. He brings it to Taran’s lips, but he’s unconscious so he doesn’t drink.
Seth blinks a tear out of his eyes as he opens the smelling salts vial.
“Seth, don’t,” says Ronan gently. “He’s going to be in a lot of pain.”
“This has to work.”
Ronan grabs Seth by the shoulders to stop him, but he’s in pain too. Seth overpowers him easily and shoves him aside. I reach for Ronan to stop him from hitting the ground.
“Seth, I know you’re scared, but stop. This isn’t helping.” I heal Ronan’s wounds again, hoping the healing will last longer this time.
And then I turn back to Taran just as Seth forces him awake.
He lurches upright, taking a gasping, rattling breath that tears my heart open to hear.
Oh gods, he’s going to die.
He blinks in confusion at Seth and then cries out as Seth shoves the elixir into his mouth. “You’re going to be alright. Drink.”
Taran chokes on the elixir, coughing up blood with it.
“Seth! You’re hurting him. Stop!”
Seth looks at me and then yanks me forward by my robe. “Fucking save him, Sylvie.”
I push the light magic into Taran’s wounds, closing the ones bleeding the heaviest. I don’t know what I’m going to do. The wounds reopen so quickly, and between Taran and Ronan, there are so many. And even if I’m healing them, the injuries go deep. I know Ronan is able to heal deep wounds enough that they heal completely with the help of an elixir, but my magic isn’t as strong as his, and my practice has only been with superficial cuts and scrapes.
And then there’s the issue of how long the poison works. Will it wear off before I run out of magic?
“Seth, look at me. Look at me!” I grab on to him by the tunic. “You have to go get a healer. If you want him to live, you have togo. I’ll keep them going as long as I can, but we need help. I need help.”
“Promise me you’ll heal them both. Not just Ronan. Promise me, Sylvie.”
