Elia breathes weakly, her body slumping in my arms. I remove her helmet, disturbed by the way her head flops to the side. “I need a healer! Bring an elixir.”
“Sylvie?” says Ronan as he reaches the wall-walk. “I felt you calling for me—oh, gods.”
Ronan drops to the ground, hands flying over me in a panic. “Oh, Sylvie. Gods, what happened?”
“I’m fine. It’s not my blood. It’s Elia. She needs an elixir, fast. She’s lost so much blood, Ronan.”
Ronan places his hands on her, but he pulls them away quickly, confused. “There’s no wound. I don’t understand.”
I turn him towards me. He looks me in the eye, seeing me perfectly clearly despite the darkness. “I healed her. With your magic, Ronan.”
I try to summon the light to my fingertips again, but it doesn’t come. After this morning, I’ve recovered so little of my magic that I’m not sure I could even darken a shadow if I had to.
“Gods, Sylvie. Whatisthis? What are we?”
I shake my head. I’m confused and frightened, but I’m also grateful. “I don’t know. But Ronan. Isavedher.”
I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. Elia is alive and breathing, weakly, but she’s still here, and it’s because of me. Because of something I did.
I’ve never felt more powerful.
A healer rushes over and presses an elixir into Elia’s mouth. She sputters and coughs at first, but she quickly drinks it down.
“It should keep her going, but with this much blood loss, she needs to go to the infirmary. She’ll need elixirs for a week at least.”
“Take her,” says Ronan. “Bring her back to the palace.”
“Right away, sir.”
Taran joins us then, giving me a wet handkerchief to wipe the blood from my face as he issues orders to the new acting commander of the legion on the walls. Then he fusses over Elia, taking one side of her stretcher from a healer who was struggling with her weight.
“They’ve been friends for a long time,” explains Ronan. “Both outcasts in their own way.” An Orsa and a shadow-born. Two outsiders who worked their way to the top of Ronan’s legions. “He’ll be very grateful that you were able to save her.”
“I’m not sure we should tell him.” It’s not that I don’t trust Taran, but I’m not sure we should let anyone know about what’s happening with our magic. Not if the part about it being sacrilegious is true. “We can say that you healed her when you arrived to help me.”
Ronan considers that for a moment. “We could say that, yes. You’re right, I know, but there’s a part of me that wants to tell everyone what you can do.”
“There’s a part of me that wants that too,” I admit. “Ronan, I’ve never felt so much power. No wonder you’re so cocky. If I went around saving people’s lives all day every day, I’d have a pretty high opinion of myself too.”
“Oh, I’m cocky, am I?”
I give him a sardonic glare.
“I’m trying to find a joke in there about the size of my cock. ‘How couldn’t I be cocky when I’ve got this much cock?’ Is that something?”
“It’s the pinnacle of wit.”
Before we climb down from the walls, I take one last look at the fire in Adria’s camp. The flames have spread further than we expected, catching on several surrounding tents and even the nearby catapult.
“They really must have a water-born shortage,” I say to Ronan. “This may turn more into Seth’s original plan than we bargained for.”
“I hope not. Fire is a terrible way to go. At least they’re ringing the alarm. Hopefully most of them will wake before their tents burn.” His eyes are earnest, full of genuine hope that everyone will be alright.
Oh, Ronan. You and your infinite compassion. I reach over and pull him to me, kissing him hard on the lips.
“What was that for?”
“For being the kind of person who deserves to be a little cocky.” I raise my eyebrows at him in warning. “Alittle.”
