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“Moving him would be fatal.” She said quietly, and if I had been standing, my legs would have buckled. This wasn’t speculation, this was the somber opinion of a hardened professional, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Try again.” When Zor met my eyes, I saw the stark fear in them. “You’re our best battlefield healer.” He added, which I knew was for my benefit.
“His collapsed lung I can repair, but…his organs are crushed. There’s too much bleeding. We move him, he’ll die.”
“No, no,no.” The denial slipped between my numb lips. “Please. I can’t lose him, I can’t. Use my magic.” Before Zor could stop me, I fumbled off one of the cuffs, the healer shuddering when stars speckled the air around us.
If word got back to the king about my magic…no, nothing mattered if I lost Raziel,nothing.
The healer rubbed her goose-bumped arms, then looked me over appraisingly.
“Your magic is strong.” Her lips thinned out. “But I cannot channel another’s magic, I can only use my own.”
“Then tell me how to do fix him.” I cupped Raz’s pale, beautiful face between my palms. “Tell me how.” I pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
I’d killed and killed and killed with this power; it was time I did something good with it.
“Healing takes years of practice to learn.” She murmured, while I stared down into Raz’s face, his thinned-out lips, twisting in pain.
“You cannot learn in a few moments. Not without doing more damage.” Her voice went low. “I’m sorry, but what you’re asking is…impossible.”
I never freed him.
I never kept all the promises I’d made him—secret promises—but still. I didn’t know what was worse, all the unsaid words between us or that we’d had so little time in the first place.
Minutes left, seconds maybe.
I leaned down and kissed his twitching brow.
Everything seemed to stop. The wind.
The world.
Waiting for me to say something. For me todosomething.
“At least let me try.” The back of my neck turned cold, as if death’s fingers rested there, and I curled myself around Raziel’s body, as if I could keep him alive through sheer will alone.
“Very well. I…we will try, princess.” The healer didn’t want to fail me, or the king. Didn’t want to risk the wrath she feared might fall on her if she didn’t succeed.
“If this doesn’t work, his death,” I swallowed. “isn’t on you. It’s on me. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“Anaria.” Zor touched my shoulder. “This is not a good idea.”
I knew he was right. Knew the risks, the utter foolishness of even attempting such a thing, but I couldn’t let Raz go without a fight.
If this was me lying there, Raziel would fight to keep me alive.
Hehadfought for me, with every bit of strength and will he possessed. Raz would die because of me and I would not allow this sacrifice. My magic had to be good for something. Magic couldn’t be just death and horror.
There had to be a balance. There was always a balance.
“Anaria.” Tavion settled on the ground beside me, grunting in pain as he cradled his arm. “You can do this.” He sounded so sure, I peered up at him.
“You’ve mastered everything by determination alone. But take this slow.” He gently moved the bands until they were loose, the magic contained, but accessible.
“Have you ever used your magic to heal before?” The healer settled to her knees; her eyes wary.
“Once.” I met Tavion’s gaze, pale green. “I’d been stabbed and I had to stop the bleeding.”
