Page 69 of Heart of Night and Fire

“Zarya!” She heard her name again as she clutched herself, lying on the floor of the observatory. She tried to clutch everything that hurt, but she only had two hands. Everything hurt. She was one giant mass of throbbing, pulsing pain.

“Help me,” she moaned, or at least she tried to speak the words, but she couldn’t tell if they were only in her head. Then she felt arms lifting her, and she tried to scream again, but her throat had swelled. The pressure of someone’s touch against her skin was like a hissing brand, marking her forever.

Her consciousness blended in and out as there was a descent, winding down, down, down, as every step jolted her like a hammer strike.

A bite, a punch, a jab. She was being crushed. Whole cities, whole kingdoms, whole continents and civilizations coming down on top of her. The weight of the world grinding her bones to ash. She groaned, trying to curl into it, trying to crawl into a pocket of relief that wasn’t there.

“I’m getting you help,” she heard someone say, their voice cracking. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I’m getting help. I’m taking you to help.” They repeated the words over and over again as they carried her. As they spiraled down the stairs, Zarya spiraled, too, down and down until darkness swept in and took her away.

* * *

Days passed, weeks, hours, seconds, minutes, years, centuries—it was impossible to know—somewhere between coherence and death. The only thing Zarya remembered was the pain. Like a living thing, it grew wings and claws and teeth and tore and shredded and bit. It hooked into her skin and her bones and each of the cells that were barely holding her together.

She perceived little, barely marking the people who came and went. Their voices and features blurred with the pain.

Koura hovered over her, his healing hands trying to offer her relief, but they made no difference. She was crushed and squeezed and twisted over and over again. He spent hours at her side, his sweat dripping onto her, his face a mask of frustration. And when Koura had done too much, when a river of red ran from his nose, he’d place something in her mouth, and she’d be taken away again.

Blink.

Kindle stood over her, magic moving on his lips. His hands rested gently on her body, but she felt the pain hammer at his power, unwilling to release her. It flung it away, scattering it like a pellet shot through a bubble. It resisted. It clung to her, pushing him away. Shielding her. Keeping the pain inside.

Blink.

Professor Dhawan sat at her bedside, a large book over his knees. He held a vial in his hand that he peered into, lines of concentration etched into his face. Zarya reached out, her throat burning. He looked at her, concern in his eyes, tears welling in the corners, and then he shook his head. She was lost.

Blink.

Vikram pressed a wet cloth on her face. It hurt where he touched her, but the coolness was a relief. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t tell him to stop. Didn’t know if she wanted him to. Yasen stood behind him, his expression grim.

Blink.

She was wasting away. Her heart dripped blood, her insides poured out. Washing away like seashells on the tide. Swept by the surf, they would be lost to the deep forever. She fainted again.

Blink.

Zarya lay on her stomach in the dream forest, and for the first time in days or weeks or months, she reacted to something other than the pain. Today, the forest wasn’t peaceful, though. Whatever magic normally comforted her held no power today.

Still, she let out a dry sob because she knew help was coming.

She didn’t know why she was so sure of that, but she understood it in her crumbling bones.

The ground beneath her was both soft and hard. Roots dug into her ribs, where she lay as the breeze burned against her skin. She reached out to explore the texture of the moss beneath her, savoring something other than the pain. She was so thirsty. She was so tired. She felt like she’d been stretched and pulled like melted sugar until she’d dissolved into nothing.

She couldn’t lift her head. All she could do was lie on the earth, focusing on her breath. In and out. In and out. When had breathing become so hard?

Where was he?

But then, through the shadow of pain, his presence tugged at her edges, now frayed and coming apart like threads off the loom, waiting for someone to weave them back together.

Like magic, Rabin appeared at her side. She felt him rather than saw him, but the sensation was unmistakable now. She would know his presence anywhere.

It wasn’t like magic, though. It was magic.

He leaned down and placed a large, gentle hand on her forehead.

She cried out as something dipped into her chest, but then she felt it. The barest glimmer of relief. The pain dulled to a gentle roar. The waves, dark and huge and consuming, rolled through her body, washing the lost pieces of her back to shore. Maybe someday she would once again be whole.

She opened her eyes, blinking through tears, one slipping down across the bridge of her nose. He caught it and wiped it away. His touch was so warm, and she wondered how such an innocuous gesture could offer such relief?