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Stefan nodded, the nervous energy around him dissipating now that he had clear instructions.
I should have told him about Cole. But that was the one thing I couldn’t make myself do.
Coward. Instead, after Stefan left, I asked Hecate to update the palace guard on the leadership status.
“As you wish, Soteria,” she replied.
The title hurt worse than ever. Because I was no savior. Not when I’d damned the man I loved to the pits. I stomped down on the guilt. Right now, I had a goal. Despite Hecate’s insistence it was futile, she would help get me to Tartarus.
Hecate left, and Daphne stayed by my side. My best friend eyed me with concern but I refused to talk about Cole any further. Unless I could actually do something, there was no point. I went to Daphne’s room, not wanting to go into my own and smell the scents that lingered there, to wash up and change out of my bloodstained clothing.
Hector tracked us down at Stefan’s command an hour later.
The makeshift sick bay he led us to was emptier than I’d initially feared. There was a sea of bodies, but not an ocean, and only a few were seriously injured.
“Soteria. You honor us with your presence,” one of the healers said as I approached.
I fought the urge to grimace.I’m no one’s savior.“I’m here to help.” My magic was well-suited for healing.And more, Hecate had hinted to me on more than one occasion.
“We’ve triaged the first two rows of patients,” the healer explained, gesturing behind her. Each row had about thirty people in it, at a glance. “We’ll work on triaging the remaining four. The ones with the worst injuries have been marked with a red scarf.”
They had acted fast. I made my way to the first red marker.
The patient had a wound that made me wince. Most had escaped with minor injuries, but this woman had a wooden beam speared through her chest. Blood had pooled around, drenching her frock. I was stunned she wasn’t howling in pain.
I was also stunned, momentarily, because I recognized the patient.
“Don’t waste your energy on me,” the barkeep who had tried to poison me a while ago snapped.
The poison, granted, hadn’t been the fatal kind. It had been closer to a laxative than anything else.
“You may die if I don’t.”
“I don’t need you to treat me,” the woman insisted.
Perhaps I should’ve respected her stubborn desire to die. But part of me felt responsible for her, for having been injured in the destruction I’d unwittingly caused.
“Too bad.” I knelt down to get a better look at the wound.
Besides myself, I had only healed Cole before. Well, Cole and an undead dragon. Then, I’d been frantic, wild with my magic. I tried to imagine Hecate guiding me. I placed my hands as gently as I could around the puncture wound. The barkeep winced but didn’t protest at the pain.
“I’m not gonna recognize you as my queen just because of this,” she huffed while I summoned my magic.
She probably wanted to talk to take her mind off of the excruciating pain. “I don’t expect you to.” It was more surprising to me that anyonedid.
“Why not?” she grumbled. “Seems like you’d take it as your due.”
“Respect is earned, not demanded.” Not the way the Alphas in my old pack had tried to demand it. “Though an apology for trying topoison me wouldn’t be amiss.”
The barkeep was silent for a moment. Either because she was in too much pain as I slowly pulled the wood out with my magic, knitting the punctured organs together, or just because she didn’t have another barb ready.
“If the king hears you say that, all your healing is for naught,” she said, glancing around as though the King of Hell might step from the shadows at any moment.
I wished she had been right. She didn’t know he was gone yet. No doubt, there would be chaos when word spread.
“You didn’t tell him,” she said when I stayed quiet. “If you had, I’d have been dead already.”
Did part of me want to protest that Cole wouldn’t kill someone for something that was a borderline prank, albeit a malicious one?
