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“Slow,” Wes says, but I can hear the concern underlying his tone. “Slow, Gillis. Breathe.”
The boy’s jaw clenches tight, and his back arches, his fingers grasping at nothing.
Thenhe flops back against Wes’s shoulder, his entire body limp.
Kendall is frozen. I’m frozen.
Wes is the one who moves, laying the boy flat, pulling the blankets free. He presses two fingers to Gillis’s throat, then drops to put an ear against his chest.
Gillis doesn’t move.
Wes looks up. His eyes are blue pools of sadness.
“No!” Kendall’s voice is a sudden shriek, full of rage and pain and fear that echoes in my own chest. “No!”
Somewhere in the distance a dog starts barking.
She keeps screaming. “This is their fault! That horrible king or his horrible brother or any of those other horrible people who live on the other side of that wall. I hate them! I hate them! I hate—”
Weston grabs her arm and slaps a hand over her mouth. His voice is a low rush of words. “Kendall. Get a hold of yourself.”
“Wes,” I whisper.
“It’s treason,” he snaps at me. “If the night patrol hears, they’ll kill her, too.”
“I don’t care,” she moans. She’s sagging against him. “Let them kill me. Let them see what they’ve done to my boy.”
I take a long, shuddering breath. “Kendall—I’m so sorry.”
“He was just a boy.” She inhales, then seems to steel herself, and she runs a hand against her son’s face. “It’s their fault, you know.” Rage fills her voice again. “They sit in there healthy, and they leave the rest of us to live or die.”
We’ve heard this a hundred times. We’ll hear it a hundred more.
It’s why we do this. Because she’s right.
Wespulls a vial from his bag and holds it out. “You need to take yours, Kendall.”
She takes the vial in her shaking hand, and I think she’s going to pull the stopper and drink it, but instead she moves to hurl it into the darkness. I gasp.
Always quick, Wes snatches it out of the air before it goes far. “Don’t let your grief make you stupid.”
His voice isn’t unkind, but she flinches and all but crumples onto her son’s body. “Give it to someone who wants to live. I don’t.”
I hesitate, then put a hand over hers. “Kendall,” I whisper. “Kendall, I’m so sorry.”
She turns her hand to clasp mine within hers. “You know what it’s like,” she says. “You lost someone, too.”
“Yes,” I say. My father. My mother. I’ll never be able to erase the moment of their death from my memory. Unbidden, tears form in my own eyes.
“Someone needs to stop them,” says Kendall, her breath shaking. “Someone needs to stop them, Tessa.”
“I know,” I say. “For now, we do what we can.”
She nods, then lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles.
“You should drink your medicine,” Wes says gently. “Gillis would want you to.”
“Gillis can’t care anymore.” She draws a shuddering breath. “Go. Both of you. Don’t waste your potions on me.”
