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It isn’t until the mix of black and ash white is nearly upon me that I realizeIam the target.
Alaric shields me with his body. The bird collides with his arm, emitting another unearthly sound. Wings flap wildly as sharp claws rip through his sleeve, slicing his skin.
I don’t know who it’s possible, but…Kharis is alive.
Alaric snatches the bird with his other hand and flings it at the stone wall, hollow bones cracking on impact.
He turns to me. “Are you hurt?”
“I should be asking you that,” I say, reaching for him so I can assess the damage.
“Do not trouble yourself over mere scratches,” he says with a grin. But his chest rises and falls with labored breaths, belying his words. Alaric sways. Stumbles.
Then he falls.
I drop to my knees at his side and roll him onto his back to search for the wounds. Black webbing sprawling and stretching out from every scratch on his hand and forearm. The lines twist and writhe beneath his skin, spreading rapidly.
Shit. Shit.
Cursed.
He’s been cursed. Again. But it is no slow infection as it was last time. Kharis intends to end his life within the hour.
I glance around franticly, scanning the area where the demon fell. Panic spikes through my temples when I don’t see them. They must have landed in the tangle of dormant plants. I scramble to my feet, searching.
A twitch among a pile of dark, rotted leaves catches my attention. Drawing my dagger as I kneel down, I take aim, then plunge the blade into their chest.
They convulse, their beak opens wide as if to make another horrible sound, but all that escapes is a hiss.
I yank my arm back, ripping out the dagger. A sizzling sound rises from the wound, bubbling up and out. The shining black feathers change to a dull gray, expanding until Kharis is nothing, but a form made of ash. My foot stirs the leaves as I stand, creating a domino effect. The demon’s form crumbles, collapsing into nothing but a pile of dust scattering into the wind.
Returning to Alaric’s side, I check his wounds, watching for the curse to recede.
Only it doesn’t.
The lines continue to grow.
“No… no, no.” I gather him in my arms and rest his head in my lap. I search, grasping desperately for something… anything, anyone, to help, but we are alone, and there is nothing.
The night-forged silver dagger winks in the moonlight, as if telling me to use it. I didn’t fight to get this far just to watch him die or end his life to spare him pain.
A thought or memory itches in my mind. It’s important. If only I could grab onto it, capture the broken pieces, and put them together. They are too knotted up in hazy moments of darkness and pain and death for me to understand. Only, there is no time.
The bond….
As I think of the connection we shared, it sets off a spark deep in my chest.Yes.It was… something about the bond. But what?
A sob wrenches free. Panic overwhelms me, and I can’t think. The poisonous lines of the curse slither up one side of his neck and face.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and when I open them again, I stop trying to think, stop trying to remember, and let instinct guide me.
I pick up the dagger and drag the flat of the blade over the side of my leg, wiping away any trace of Kharis that might remain. The shining metal reflects a beam of moonlight, casting it like a beacon on my hand pressed against Alaric’s chest.
Once I settle him on the ground, I kneel beside him, holding my palm in front of me, remembering the feel of the slice he carved into my skin, remembering the exact path.
Then I drag the tip of the blade along the invisible line. My entire body is numb from fear, and I hardly feel it. Blood wells up, dripping like thick crimson tears. I take his hand and drag the dagger in a line to mirror my own.
Pressing my palm to his, I lock our fingers together. Hot tears burn, tracking down my face as I wait and wait for a spark of magic to ignite.
