Page 55 of On Brutal Thrones

I gasp and reach for it, but Thorian turns his hand over, flexing his fingers experimentally.

The swelling is already disappearing.

Relief loosens some of the tension inside me. “Thank the gods for divine healing.”

His mouth twists. “I’m not sure they deserve the thanks.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. It’s small and exhausted, but after everything that just happened, hearing even a trace of Thorian’s dry humor feels like another piece of the world settling back into place.

I glance toward Fenric.

He’s still unconscious, his copper curls tangled with dirt and dried blood. His clothes are torn badly enough that I can see scratches and bruises beneath them, but his breathing is steady.

Then I look at Talon. He hasn’t moved either. But, for the moment, all four of us are alive.

I’ll take it.

Time passes. I have no idea how much, but we just lay in the grass, our breath going from wild to calm. We don’t talk. We don’t do anything. We just to try to remember what it feels like to be normal.

Finally, Thorian flexes his hand a few times before looking at me. “Can you keep going?”

“Yes.”

The answer comes immediately, even though every muscle in my body aches. My arms are trembling from dragging Fenric, my legs feel heavy, and exhaustion has settled so deeply into me that I’m not sure how much strength I actually have left. But stopping isn’t an option. Not here.

Thorian studies me. Apparently, I’m not nearly as convincing as I hoped.

“I’ll carry them.”

I glance between Fenric and Talon. “Both?”

He gives me a look.

Apparently, that was a stupid question.

“Thorian, you’re exhausted too. You’ve barely had a chance to recover from everything that happened in the cave, let alone what we just went through in the blood field.”

“I heal faster.” He crouches beside Fenric. “You don’t.”

I want to argue, especially after everything he just went through, but he’s already reaching for Fenric.

“Fine,” I mutter. “But I’m carrying the bag.”

That earns the faintest hint of a smile. “Deal.”

He manages Talon over one shoulder and Fenric over the other, though even Thorian has to brace himself before standing. I grab the bag from him.

We continue walking for a while longer. The sun slowly makes its way across the sky. Hunger and thirst build inside of me. But we have half our team unconscious, and certain danger behind us, so all we can do is keep going forward.

Until the trees abruptly end.

I stop beside Thorian.

Ahead of us stretches what looks like a field of grass, except every blade is enormous. Thick green stalks tower several feet above Thorian’s head, growing so close together that they form a dense wall of green. I can’t see the ground beneath them or more than a few feet into the field.

“What is that?”

Thorian lowers both men near a rocky outcropping, rolling his shoulders before staring at what lies ahead.