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“Leave it,” I barked, my hands pushing against his chest. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I could barely breathe. I grabbed Nikolai’s hand and removed his fingers from the arrow, one by one.
“I don’t think it’s hit the bone.” Nikolai grimaced. “If I pull it out, I can still get the job done.”
“If you pull it out, you’ll die,” I warned him. Fear crashed through me like the dam had already burst. I could scent the poison in the blood that oozed from his leg. It was sweet and welcoming, a disguise often worn by death.
“The arrowhead was laced with honeyshade,” I said, shaking as I gripped Nikolai’s hand. I tried to cover the fear in my words. “If you pull that out, you’ll only let more leech into your blood. We need to get you to a healer.” I looked at Syrra who nodded, understanding her new task.
“This is not a two-person job, Keera,” Nikolai countered through clenched teeth. Sweat already pooled along his brow, the whites of his eyes beginning to yellow.
“It is now,” I said with a ragged breath. I would not let another person die, especially not Nikolai. “Riven and I are the quickest. We’ll make sure it’s done.” I looked down the walkway to where Riven worked. I knew he was listening to every word, tormented that he couldn’t help Nikolai himself. He needed to finish installing the detonators.
“Riven will help you get him up to the ridge,” I told Syrra. “Do you need help to get him down to the streets?” Nikolai was nowhere near as bulky at Riven, but he was still tall.
“No,” she answered, pulling Nikolai to his feet. She threw his arm around her shoulder, and they hobbled down the pathway. Riven spiked his last explosive as they reached the ladder.
I moved as fast as I could. Resting a bag of explosive powder every three feet, a detonator pinned to the wall between each. I had thirty more. I raced, placing two bags at a time while slamming the pins into the wall in one stroke. Each time the stake drove into the stone, I heard Nikolai’s scream ring in my ears.
Riven dropped back down into the chasm and installed the last two detonators. I pulled out the fuse lines from Nikolai’s pack and handed one loop to Riven. We had to carefully braid the fuse along each of the chains, connecting bag after bag, detonator after detonator. We started at the edges, bringing the fuse to the middle before doubling back, laying the fuse line on the ground. Once we lit each line, we’d only have minutes to scale the ladders and find cover from the blast.
I looked up, holding a match in my hand. Riven’s eyes were already on me. Waiting and soaking me in. My hood had fallen back, and I watched his gaze trail from my eyes down my braid, slowly, as if he was memorizing every detail.
Finally, his eyes settled on the fuse, and he nodded.
We lit our matches, bringing them to the fuse in perfect unison. The ends lit and started carrying the smallest of flames along the extra fuse line, toward the middle of the dam. A spark that would ignite complete eruption.
I climbed my ladder and Riven climbed his. Halfway up I looked down to check the fuse lines. Riven’s was still sparking, a trail of blue-and-red flickers, moving along the stone walkway, just as it was meant to.
But mine had gone out.
The fuse was dead with only a few feet of charred line from where I’d dropped it.
Nikolai had emphasized to me so many times in that godsdamned coach that it was paramount the explosions were synchronous. That was the only way to ensure that the blast was big enough to bring down the entire dam and send a flash flood through the canals.
I saw Riven’s cloak soar over the top of the dam and he began running toward me. He didn’t realize that the plan had failed. I had failed.
No, not yet, I thought.
I let go of the ladder and landed back on the hard stone. I ran toward the center of the dam watching Riven’s fuse. I had to relight mine in exactly the same place.
I raced ahead of it. I grabbed another match and waited for Riven’s sparks to catch up. I was less than fifty feet from the first explosion. There was no way I’d be able to clear the blast in time, but I didn’t care.
Riven was safe.
Syrra and Nikolai hopefully were too.
If one of us had to die, I was glad it was me. It should be the worst of us.
They were the ones with a legion of Elverin willing to save the Halflings. They would carry on.
I lit the match and took a breath.
All my nerves vanished and were replaced not with fear, but relief.
This was the best I could do to keep our promise, I thought as I lit the fuse.
A grappling arrow landed behind me, anchoring itself in the pathway of the dam. The rope hung taut; Riven had tied it to the merlon. He peered out of the bust, hoisting my rope ladder along the wall.
I didn’t have time to call to him. To tell him to leave me to my fate. Arguing would mean the death of us both.
