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The Fractured Prophecy

Page 64

by Lizzy Gayle

Hymer.

Together, Nyah and I rushed to join her at Hymer’s side, reaching them just before Torvo and the others. Hymer lay on his back, clutching his ribs where blood leaked freely over his hand. Judging by the soaked ground around him, he’d lost too much already. His forehead shone with sweat, and his breathing was shallow, so shallow that any inhale could be his last.

Twenty-Seven

Nyah

Ididn’t know the man bleeding out on the ground, but I assumed from the reaction of my friends that he was one of us. I dropped to my knees beside Rivven and squinted so I could see the energy surrounding the wounded man. I didn’t like what I found.

The swirling cloud of ether that surrounded each person dissipated around the injured man, leaking into the ground faster than the physical blood from his body. The aura thinned around other people’s injuries, including a nasty gash on Devira’s arm, but nothing as all-encompassing or pervasive as his.

“It’s not good,” Rivven stated. I knew he was seeing what I was since he was part elf. Kendara and Sharlyne would also be able to, but even with regular human sight it wasn’t a stretch to assume the man was dying.

“Let me get closer.” I shoved at Rivven’s stubborn, immovable body. “I think I might be able to help.”

Rivven raised an eyebrow but slid aside. I recalled how I’d called on the strange powers inside to heal one of the girls at Lou’s when I was training for the Imrati. Then again, a headache was nowhere near as complex as a potentially fatal stab wound.

“Hymer,” Devira whimpered, clutching his hand. So, this was the man who was leading the resistance in Astridon. Judging by his lack of reaction, I worried I wouldn’t have long.

I focused on the deep lines etched on his face beneath a layer of sweat and dirt and blood. I had no idea if it was all his or not. It didn’t matter. He had only one eye, and it was scrunched closed as though he was trying to push away the pain.

I set my palm on the shoulder above his wounded side. I shut my eyes and looked with my mind. A gasp escaped my lips. I saw it clear as the sun—a long, jagged cut that oozed a tangle of fibrous black ether. It was several times thicker than the single strand I’d seen when healing the headache. It had been so natural to tug that out, like pulling out a splinter. But this?

Drawing a deep breath, I grounded myself and gathered my magic. Sending out a golden stream of my own, I crafted a shining basin of ether in my left palm. Then I gently cupped the area below the dark energy with the other hand and began to gather it, still clenching the shard of crystal in my fist. As soon as I did, blinding pain shot through me, stealing my breath and my focus. But I doubled back and yanked harder. The black knot began to give, falling into the bowl strung from my golden threads, and then the floodgates opened.

The obsidian strands poured over the sides like a waterfall, sending wave after wave of agony through me. I tried to pull away—to drop the bowl—but I couldn’t detach myself. Instead, I began to tremble, body shivering like I’d just developed a fever. Cold sweat broke out on my brow, and I was vaguely aware of Rivven trying to gather me into his arms and Devira calling out.

“Get her off! She’s making it worse. He’s going into shock.”

The black threads crept out of my bowl, crawling up and over the tendrils of my power, reminding me horribly of the way the zigzagging crevice had eaten away at the night forest. It was the same, only far smaller, and so many more of them.

“No,” I whispered, trying to release it. But I couldn’t. Panic increased as the thick black parasites reached out hungrily for my body. “Stop!” I shouted, unable to open my eyes.

I was shrieking, thrashing, as Rivven dragged me away from Hymer. But I couldn’t control it. They were slithering over me now, poking and prodding, searching for an entry point to get inside.

“Help!” I yelled, jerking again and colliding with Rivven’s chin.

“What’s happening?” he demanded, trying to hold me still by my upper arms. “Talk to me, Nyah!”

“The ether,” I managed to rasp, mentally swiping at the multitude of dark threads trying to enter my body. “I pulled the dark energy out. Its attacking me!” Sobs wracked my body. “I can’t release it.” I began to tremble from the pain. Wherever it touched me, it felt like blades slicing into flesh.

I started coughing. My lungs felt like a Cravenbeast had crawled onto my chest. The black tendrils had encircled and were squeezing me, trying to punch a hole to climb in, I was sure of it. My mouth opened so I could wheeze in a breath, and the tips slid down my throat, burning me like acid.

“Let me see her.” I recognized Kendara’s voice, though it sounded far away.

Then I was being set on the clover where I rolled to my side, coughing and retching.

“I can see it.” Sharlyne’s voice broke through, soft yet clear, like she’d rang a bell that somehow interrupted whatever was happening to me.

Keep talking, I begged silently. I felt two sets of hands on me. But hers—I knew they belonged to her somehow—where they touched me, the threads slid quickly away as though afraid.

“I’m watching,” she said. It made no sense to me, but I wasn’t sure anything would at the moment.

Then Kendara reached inside with her magic. I felt it like another hand. Yes, she’s a mountain elf, she can heal. I clung to that thought as she worked on me, chanting quietly in a foreign tongue.

“Gather some calendula and lavender,” she said. But the web of darkness was already withdrawing, flowing out of my mouth into the soft ground, where I sputtered and heaved until my stomach was empty and I could finally open my eyelids.

Still quaking uncontrollably, I let Rivven help me to a sitting position, then leaned against his chest, his arms supporting me. I noticed Sharlyne’s hands still in contact with my arm, and I nodded at her as best I could. A small smile answered me.