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Erik was only lockedin his stun near Larsson’s body for a few moments before he snapped up. “Sewell.”
I draped his arm over my shoulders and helped him limp to where Gavyn, Celine, and a few of the Ever Crew must’ve shielded Sewell. In my rush to reach Erik, I’d hardly caught a glimpse of the injured.
Sick turned in my belly at the sight of my Sewell’s bloodied neck. Gavyn held a press to his father’s skin. Celine held tightly to Sewell’s palm, and only shallow breaths gave way that any life still lived in the man’s heart.
Erik was soaked head to foot in gore but fumbled to Sewell’s side. Gavyn, eyes rimmed in red, moved down wordlessly, giving the king space. Energy was spent in the Ever King. How much would be needed to save Sewell?
Erik’s bloodied hand curled around Sewell’s throat. Upon the first note of his song, he fell over Sewell’s chest, drained and weary. Still, he kept his hand steady, eyes closed, with the slow whisper of a song.
No one made a sound. My father rose from where he’d crouchedto call a final bit of earth for Erik’s killing blow. Pallid, heavy with his own exhaustion, yet he curled me against his side, always the protector, always my shield.
“Touch him, little love,” he whispered. “He needs your touch.”
“When we heal the darkening, but—”
“Your mother has the same impact on me,” he admitted. “It is a gift ofhjärtas. Trust me. Touch him.”
I dropped beside Erik. One hand touched the back of his head, the other, on his shoulder. Erik shuddered, never breaking his breathy tune, but little by little a flush filled his cheeks. More vigor soaked his song.
Sewell’s chest heaved with new breath.
“Gods.” Gavyn fumbled to his knees.
With help from Stormbringer, my father, and the bone lord, Erik was eased off Sewell’s chest. I held him against my body, a bolster for him to use for strength.
Sewell’s eyes opened.
“Daj.” Celine covered his body, shoulders shaking.
Her father wrapped her up in his arms. “No rain, Thunderfish.”
She only buried her face against his chest a little more. Gavyn, somber and torn, stepped aside. He was the bone lord, an orphan who played the role of a brutal son trying to make amends for a traitorous father. Doubtless most of his crew believed the lies. Doubtless there were still risks from vigilantes who might lash out and finish the commands of Harald.
Erik coughed. “Gavyn. Our world changes today.”
Gavyn blinked, mouth tight. After a pause, he nodded and knelt beside Sewell. Celine shifted for her brother, but never released her father’s neck.
Sewell, over her shoulder, looked to his son.
Gavyn smiled and clasped forearms with his father. “I’ve always been proud to be your son, and I want our folk to know it.”
A few murmurs followed the confession but faded quickly.
Sewell cleared his throat. “Same words, boy. Same words.”
Erik’s breaths rattled. For the first time, I looked over his wounds. Skin burnt and shredded across his chest. Blood down his nose, ears, belly. I watched how he’d moved, leg dragging behind. I’d guess the bones were fractured again.
“Erik, you need a boneweaver,” I said against his head.
He hesitated. “I can’t walk on my own.”
There was a bit of shame in his words. I hugged him closer and drew my lips to his ear. “Then it is a good thing you never have to.”
By the next morning,Blister Poppy had joined Murdock (who was rather petulant about her arrival) at the palace to tend to the wounded.
Sea witches offered healing herbs, but the two boneweavers healed bones and skulls, replenished blood, and staved off infection. Murdock, naturally, was with the king who, out of the scattered bodies across the great hall, was the most horrid when it came to dispositions of the sick.
Erik swatted at Murdock when the man, once again, offered a black polished walking cane. “I’m not using that.”
