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CHAPTER THIRTY
CLARA
Thousands of starsexplode across my vision, blotting out the world and fading into an endless night.
I hear a sound.
A voice… familiar, but I can’t make out what they say or who it belongs to.
I blink. Squeeze my eyes tight, then open them again.
A cruel face scowls down at me. My gaze tracks down over the bright slash of red on Elizabeth’s dress to the blade in her hand, soaked with blood…. my blood. A fat droplet falls to the earth.
And I remember.
I remember the pain. The scrape of steel on bone, twisting. Elizabeth stabbed me.
I try to get up, but Varin has taken control, keeping me from moving. My lungs struggle to draw in shallow breaths.
Keep still,the demon warns.It is lucky you did not bring the night-forged dagger with you.
Alaric grunts—a horrible sound of agony—and drops to his hands and knees. Lolling my head to the side, I try to look for the reason but find nothing. He wraps an arm around his middle.
Cold seeps through me, making the blood spilling from my sliced flesh is like scalding water as it spreads out in a puddle beneath me. I reach for Alaric, but he is not close enough.
What’s happening? Is he dying?
Varin does not answer. Their power slides along my veins, crashing over my bones like a wild river. It tugs and concentrates on the wound, slowing the flow of blood.
The dagger drops to the ground between Alaric and me, just out of reach.
In the back of my mind, I knew this outcome was a possibility. But I wanted to believe I could do this. Wanted to believe Elizabeth cared more about getting what she wanted, that killing my family wouldn’t be worth the effort.
I should have known better. Pressure builds up behind my eyes before spilling over in rivulets of hot tears.
I couldn’t save them.
I couldn’t save anyone.
Elizabeth shifts, stepping into the edges of my vision. Her gaze is pinned on me even as Alaric gasps. She ignores him, doing nothing to help him.
Why? She needs him alive…
Or have I been wrong about that, too?
The moment stretches on and on. I make a weak sound in the back of my throat when Alaric’s breathing evens out.
He straightens, standing against a backdrop of ashen sky, and his eyes meet mine. The expression he wears is a little amazed, with the barest hint of a smile on his lips. I don’t know what it means.
A high-pitched ringing fills my ears. Elizabeth speaks, drawing Alaric’s attention to her. She hooks her hand in the crook of his elbow and leads him away. There is nothing I can do but watch as he turns his back on me. The guards trail after them.
They disappear as snow begins to fall.
Varin’s hold partially relents. I cover my mouth with my hand, muffling the sob I can no longer hold back. I don’t understand how everything went so wrong.
You need help or you will die here,Varin hisses.The injury is too deep for me alone to heal.Whether it is the demon’s will to live or mine or a combination of both, I roll onto my uninjured side and work the small, polished piece of metal no bigger than my palm, free from my pocket. Angling it toward the trees, I signal to Oliver.
Each shift is a strain that sends bolts of sharp torment all down my side. It makes blood seep through the wound faster. Nausea washes over me in a wave, too fast and strong to escape. My vision wavers. I can barely find the energy to lift my head.
