“Lioran.” Fyn lifted him slowly. “Drink.” Fyn lifted the flask to his lips.
He was awake. He was alive.
“Tell me what I can do.” I felt his forehead for fever. He didn’t have one.
Veylar didn’t hesitate as Fyn led him closer to us.
“I’m going to help him stand. Help brace his back.” Lioran leaned into Fyn, his arm swung around Fyn’s neck. My handsgently rested on Lioran’s back. I was too afraid to hurt him further.
Lioran groaned with each step.
“Try to pull yourself up a bit. I’ll help with the rest.” Fyn’s voice softened.
Lioran clenched his muscles as he tried to grab onto Veylar’s saddle. He moaned as his boots slid in the dirt. Fyn braced him again, helping him into the saddle.
“She can’t manage you by herself. It won’t be comfortable…but I have to tie you to Veylar.” Fyn’s hands steadied a rope around Lioran’s waist—he tied it to the saddle.
“Aelira, you’ll ride behind Lioran. I need you to hold him up best you can.” Fyn extended his hand to help me into the saddle, but his hand wrapped around my arm instead. “You’re bleeding. We need to wrap it again.”
“No.” I pulled free. “We don’t have enough supplies left. He needs it more than I do. I’ll be fine.”
“You two…” Fyn slid his dagger through the bottom of his shirt, ripping a strand of fabric free. I winced as he tightened the fabric around my wound. “You’re both just bleeding all over the place like it’s no big deal.” He smirked.
He lifted me up behind Lioran. My hands rested lightly on Lioran’s back.
“He won’t bite.” Fyn slid my arms around Lioran’s chest. “He’s lost too much blood.” Even as he joked, his voice caught.
Lioran let out a low scoff. I pulled my hands back.
“This will only work if you actually hold on to him!” Fyn yelled as he mounted his horse.
Lioran howled as Veylar’s hooves pelted the rocky ground.
“I need you to hold on, Lioran.” If he heard me, he didn’t respond.
Wind thrashed at my cheeks, a moment of relief from themidday sun. Lioran swayed in the saddle, but I gripped him harder, desperate to keep him upright.
Fyn rode alongside us until the path narrowed. Even then, he monitored us. My muscles seared with pain with every effort to keep Lioran from slumping in the saddle. Despite how fast he was fading, he attempted to hold himself up.
“I’ve got you. We’re going to make it to Othryl soon.” I didn’t know how long it would take, but I needed him to stay conscious. My hands pressed firmly against his chest until I could feel each shallow slow breath.
Rustling sounded from the trees.
“Fyn, did you hear that?”
Fyn commanded his horse to halt. I pulled on Veylar’s reins. Lioran wailed as he shifted too abruptly in the saddle.
“There’s nothing out there, but if we keep stopping, we may stumble into something.”
He was right. I couldn’t let my fear get the best of me. My arms trembled, Lioran suddenly felt heavier.
“Stay with me,” I pleaded as tears pooled in my eyes. My heart clenched firm in my chest.
“We need to get to Othryl,” Fyn warned.
When I was sad or hurt, my mother used to always hum a soft tune to me. I remembered it still and hummed it to him. He may not have heard it all, but the familiar song kept me steady.
Two wings crossed with a vertical sword—their insignia was seared into my memory. It felt so familiar.
