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All around, the battle raged while Marco’s eyes locked with hers. His were glassy with shock.
“It doesn’t really hurt.”
“It’s going to. I’m sorry. I’m going to fix it.”
She went deep, long and deep, numb to the pain she took from him into herself, blind to the blood that coated her hands, deaf to the sounds of steel striking steel all around her.
Here there was only Marco. Marco, her friend, her brother. Marco, who’d never failed her. Marco, who’d opened her to dreams. Marco, who’d leaped into another world with her, for her.
Sweat rolled down her face, mixed with tears, with blood as she pushed deep.
Even with the pain she took, his body arched with it.
“Sleep, sleep now.” It would be easier for both of them if he slept. “Sleep.” When he went lax, she made herself slow down.
She heard something cry out and thud behind her, but didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
“Ah gods.” Keegan stood beside her now. “Gods damn it all to hell and back again. How bad is it?”
“Bad, but, but better.” Her words came in pants. “I think better. I need more time.”
“You don’t have it here, and the both of you nearly were cut down. Call your dragon, take him to the first healing tent.”
“If I move him—”
“If you don’t, he dies here when one that’s gotten through finishes him and takes you. Get him safe away. Fuck it all.” He threw power, and something else screamed. “He’s not safe here, Breen.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Lonrach landed.
“Hold any off us now while I get him up. Be ready and defend.”
She’d more than defend, she thought. She’d annihilate. She raised her sword to impale a charging demon dog, and before she could, Bollocks streaked out of the smoke, tore its throat. Without pause he leaped onto Lonrach, laid his paws over Marco.
And howled.
“Get him safe,” Keegan told her. “We won’t lose him this day.”
“No, we won’t lose him.”
She flew, her hands on Marco again, to keep him asleep, to continue healing. As she neared the healing station, she saw her grandmother, Sedric, a few others battling more who’d gotten through.
Not many, she thought as she took Lonrach down. But too many.
Evil always found more.
“We’ve got him. We’ve got him, Daughter.” One of the healers lifted Marco from Lonrach’s back. An Old Father, she thought, stronger than he looked. “You’ve given him sleep and begun the healing. That’s good, that’s fine. We’ve got you, Marco.”
Inside there lay more wounded, some recovering, others in deep sleep as a healer worked.
“Let’s see what we have here, let’s take a good look.”
With his eyes closed, the old man laid his thin hands on Marco.
“The sword went deep. I see the shadow of it, the slice through the liver as well. But you’ve made that whole again, and begun to knit and close.”
“Can you— Will he live?”
