Between Tides Thunder(125)

When I can no longer see the ground through his chest, I loose half a breath. But there’s no time for relief. I set to work on carefully mending the internal damage. Thank the Tides, the spear missed his heart.

Blood vessels knitted back together, nerve endings regrown, tissue repaired.

But then—

My light sputters.

Flickers.

Dies.

No. No, no, no, no.

I summon it again, but my power doesn’t answer. I’ve burned through my reserves—fighting, freezing, healing.

And we have no food.

Nothing left to replenish me.

Tears slide down my cheeks. I press my hands to his chest again, willing the glow to return, willing something—Tides, Skies, Flames—anything to answer.

Please. Please. Not like this.

Zev’s lashes flutter weakly. He’s pale. He’s so fucking pale.

His eyes crack open, barely a sliver, twin streams of red trickling from his nostrils. He stares at the half-healed hole in his chest, blinking slowly, like even that small act requires an enormous amount of precious energy.

“My reserves are empty,” I whisper. “Stay here. Don’t die. I’ll—I’ll find food—”

I start to rise, but his hand catches mine. It’s barely a touch. Slow. Shaky. Reaching into his cloak, he presses something small into my palm.

An apple.

The same apple I’d given him to eat hours ago, bruised yet untouched.

I choke on a sob as I take it from him.

I press my forehead to his, tears dripping onto his ashen cheeks.

With a shaky breath, I bite into the apple.

Tides, let it be enough.





CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE




IT’S BEEN FIVE DAYS since the attack.

Five days since I killed my father.

Five days since I wielded blood.

The Volcans and the rebels from the other camps arrived the morning after, though we had regained control by then. Still, the extra hands were immediately put to use, helping clear rubble and dig out survivors.

And help bury the dead.

A handful of buildings remained standing, and the earthwielders also erected additional makeshift structures. Sura was unharmed. She’d planned to spend the night in the childcare tent. When the attack happened, she and the other caregiver shepherded the children into a hollowed-out safe room beneath the thick rug—thoughtfully carved out by an earthwielder early on.

Tairna dispatched missives to both Tundrayn and Arbinj, announcing the deaths of Tormik and Varad and Faramir—declaring me queen of both kingdoms.

We’ve yet to receive a response.

We suffered so many casualties. Even now, I don’t know how many lie dead beneath the fractured buildings. I spent the first two days in the makeshift infirmary, healing the endless line of rebels and sleeping on the floor—there were no empty cots.

And Zev … I only convinced him to remain in the infirmary for an hour, making sure he was completely healed from the ice spear that carved a gaping hole in his chest.

But once he saw the long line of injured people, he wouldn’t stay. I haven’t seen him since—Sura and Tumaas tell me he’s been helping dig through rubble.

So many people have been displaced, that many sleep in large, communal tents, or share rooms in the remaining buildings. Somehow, I was assigned my own room—with Zev, of course—in a nearby building. I suspect Tairna had something to do with that, though I’ve only gone there a handful of times to shower before returning to the infirmary.

With a sigh, I glance around the crowded space where cots are wedged so close together that there’s hardly space to walk between them. It’s late, and the patients are either sleeping or trying to sleep.

Soft footsteps announce a presence outside the door. It creaks open, and Tairna peers through. She manages a warm smile, but it can’t mask the tension etched on her face.

I meet her outside, softly shutting the infirmary door behind me.

“How are you doing, Mayah?” she asks. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. “Are you certain you don’t want me to find a heartwielder? If you’re struggling with what happened to Tormik…”

What happened was that I murdered him.

I swallow hard. It’s a strange sense of grief, a feeling of loss for something I never truly had. Not really.

“I’m all right.” My smile is tight. Practiced.

She smiles back, but her eyes tell me she doesn’t believe me. “Have you decided if you prefer to travel to Arbinj first or Tundrayn? We must move quickly to cement your rule.”

I hadn’t thought about it. With the endless line of patients, there hasn’t been any time. And it’s not only my decision.

“Let me talk to Zev first, see what he thinks.”

Tairna opens her mouth, then snaps it shut.

“What?” I ask, bristling.

“Have you spoken to Vayru at all recently?” she asks slowly.

I shake my head.

“He’s leaving,” she tells me quietly. “For Volca.”

She may as well have slapped me.

“When?” I breathe.

“Tomorrow morning. He must be…”

I don’t hear the rest.

My feet slap against the ground as I dart through the quiet camp. Panic grips my heart, cold and rough, clawing up my throat until breathing is a struggle.