“Taran now,” says Ronan. “Before you do the rest.”
I don’t hesitate. I take the torch to Taran. He’s gone so pale that his tattoo looks shockingly dark on his neck and chest. I press the torch to each of his injuries. Ronan takes his hand as he cries out in pain from the burns.
“Thank you,” whispers Taran.
“The elixir,” says Ronan. “Here, I’ll heal myself the rest of the way.” I hand the torch to him as I tip the elixir into Taran’s mouth.
“We need to get inside,” I say as I check Taran for hidden wounds with my magic, thankfully finding none. “There could be others coming.” I try to lift him myself, but he’s heavier than I expected.
“Come here, Sylvie,” says Ronan, pulling me to my feet. He holds me to him, and my body finally releases the tension and fear.
Oh gods, I nearly lost him. I nearly lost them both.
“Ronan,” I say, my voice breaking. “Ronan, I was so scared.”
“Sylvie, you were incredible.” He brushes away my tears. “You saved us.” He kisses me softly, and then he bends down to carry Taran back inside.
We wait for a long time for the others to arrive. Seth returns first with a healer on Kira, the poor priest shaking from the flight. He marvels at the invisible wounds, giving Taran a strong elixir for his blood loss and declaring that he’ll be up and about in a few days.
Seth, now that Taran is no longer in mortal danger, has returned to his usual self. “If you had just waited and let me get the water like I said I was going to, none of this would have happened.”
“It still would have happened. It just would have been you lying here instead of me.”
“Except you would have been dead,” I say to Seth. “No one fights like Taran.”
Seth’s eyes flare with rage. “He nearly died.” He breathes heavily for a moment then regains his composure. “It would seem that our sister has found us at last. We aren’t safe here.”
“Ronan, they have poison that can stop magic. Light magic, and maybe fire.”
“And water,” says Taran. He gestures in the air, and the water he’s trying to conjure doesn’t appear.
“But not the torch,” says Ronan. His eyes meet mine, and I know what he’s thinking.
“We have to go to the tomb. We need whatever is there if we’re going to fight this.”
Ronan nods. “We’ll make sure Taran and Seth get to the castle. And then we’ll go.”
Both Taran and Seth protest loudly.
“You cannot go alone,” says Taran. “You have no idea what you’ll be facing in there. Give me a week to recover. The castle is well defended, and the legions are camped nearby. No one Adria sends will be able to get to us there. We can still all go together when we march the soldiers south as we planned.”
Seth, for once, agrees. “We need you and whatever that torch is with us. If she sends more attackers, we’ll have nothing that can help.”
I scowl. Of course he’s only thinking of himself.
And maybe Taran. A little.
Taran pulls himself up in his bed. “I’m sworn to protect you, sir.”
“Lie back down, you fool,” says Seth. “You’re not going anywhere.” He sighs, looking from Taran to Ronan and finally to me. “I’ll go.”
“No,” I say. Seth is admittedly a strong fighter, but he’s not a protector of anyone except himself. “Stay here and make sure Taran gets better.”
“No, he’s right,” says Taran. The affectionate way he says it indicates he thinks Seth is doing this for him, nobly agreeing to step up and take his place. I’m not so sure. “He should go with you.”
“Very well,” says Ronan. I look at him in disbelief, but he shrugs. He’s doing this in part to make Taran happy and in part because he believes Seth is worried about me. “You can take Bitey.”
The others arrive then. Quinn fusses over Taran, while Larus and Typhon search the assassins, taking their poisoned weapons and three unbroken vials of unlabeled poison. The rest they bury, using Larus’s magic to make quick work of the unpleasant task.
