Page 113 of Harbinger

He carries me out of the fire, away from the tree, away from death. My vision clears just enough for me to see Kieren sprawled in the mud where they left him.

He lies on his back, eyes open and staring at nothing.

“No, no, no—”

We’re supposed to be on a boat. This was going to be an adventure.

Bishop lowers me beside him without a word and backs up a step. But only one step.

I scramble to Kieren’s side, pressing my hands to his chest, his neck, anywhere I can think to feel for life.

“Stay with me,” I whisper. “Please. I’m here. I didn’t leave.”

His skin is already cooling.

There’s no breath. No pulse.

He was still talking about Isidore an hour ago, like the future was a thing that could be bargained for. He can’t just be … gone.

I fold over him, a sound ripping out of me that comes from somewhere so deep inside I feel it in my bones. I can’t breathe.

I ran.

I turned back.

But I didn’t save him.

“Kieren.” I cup his face with both hands and cry. “I’m so sorry.”

The words aren’t enough, but it’s all I can manage as my throat closes. Those men came for me, and he was in the way. My vision blurs, tears mixing with ash. He’ll never see the Lost Continent. Never cheat sailors at Liar’s Hand. There won’t be any adventures. No new life in a new world. And he will never go back home to Damalis, fortune made.

This can’t be how it ends.

Something heavy thumps behind me, and I whirl toward the sound, expecting another ambush. But it’s Bishop. He’s on one knee, blinking down at the hand holding his stomach. But all I can see is the blood pouring through his fingers. I’d only seen the one slice into his shoulder. This one is much, much worse.

“Bishop?” I croak.

He sways and drops to both knees in front of me.

Panic slams into me, and I lurch forward, pressing my hands over his bloody ones. I don’t know what to do, where to hold pressure. I just push like I can shove the wound back inside him. “I’m going to Wolf’s Keep.” I’m afraid to leave him, but what choice do I have? “To get a healer …”

“No … It’s too dangerous.” His voice is raspy, each word strained.

“There’s time.” I shake my head, even though something in me knows better. “I’ll bring help.”

I can’t let him die.

His fingers wrap around my wrist. “Arden.” He swallows. It takes effort. “Listen.”

I press harder against the wound. “Don’t say it.”

I can’t lose him, too.

I don’t care that he’s a heart collector. Don’t care what he’s done. All I see is the man who came for me. Saved me. And he’s bleeding out in front of me.

He tries to speak again but has to stop. Sucking in a reedy breath, he forces the words out. “There isn’t time.” He pauses, chest stuttering. “I won’t let them take you.”

His other hand fumbles for the blade at his thigh. Misses the strap. Tries again.