And she collapses, limp.
Just like Temra.
I toss aside my weapons and run for my sister. Her chest is rising and falling, but blood is oozing out of wounds on her arm and right side.
So. Much. Blood.
I press my hands firmly against the sources of the bleeding before looking up at the two men around me for help.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
My body convulses, wishing to dispel my last meal.
But I’m not allowed to do anything until Temra is safe.
She wakes not a second after I touch her, and her cries oscillate between screams and whimpers as she tries to get ahold of the pain. When her breathing turns to wheezing, tears rain down my face anew.
“This way,” Kellyn says. He takes off down the dirt road at a run.
The bleeding is more severe at Temra’s arm, so I risk releasing her side to hoist her up to a standing position. She screams at the movement, and I stifle a whimper of my own.
“Don’t worry about Kymora,” Petrik says. “I’ll watch her. You take care of—” He cuts off, unable to say my sister’s name.
I slide my free arm under Temra’s knees and lift her up, cradling her, so I can move more easily. I’ve barely heard Petrik’s words. I know I should probably worry about whether he’ll try to help his mother get away, despite how he took our side at the end. Familial bonds are strong, as I well know.
But nothing will keep me from running as fast as I can until I know Temra is safe.
Kellyn knocks on some door and lets himself inside before anyone answers. He says very little before an older woman with long hair in gray braids instructs us to lower Temra onto a bed.
The healer urges us to boil some water. Before I turn, I watch her elevate my sister’s arm carefully on a pillow, applying her own fingers to the wound.
I run out of the room, try to find the kitchen in the modest home. Kellyn is right beside me.
“I’m sure she’ll be all right. Here, let me.” He tries to take the kettle from me.
“Go make sure Petrik doesn’t let Kymora go. I can do this on my own.”
“He’s no more safe with her running free than we are. He won’t do anything stupid.”
That may be, but I don’t want him around right now. I can’t bear the attention when I’m doing everything I can to keep myself together.
I strike up a fire as I talk. The wait for the water to boil might just kill me. “Please, go to Petrik. I’ve got this.”
Kellyn stands there for a few seconds longer before leaving.
* * *
I thought I’d already experienced the worst thing that would ever happen to me. Seeing Temra injured so severely was horrible, but having to hold down my baby sister while the healer cauterizes the wound is much worse.
Feeling her fight against me, hearing her screams, knowing I’m helping to cause it.
It breaks me.
Temra loses consciousness after it’s done, the medicine the healer administered finally kicking in, and I hold her to me, wrapping her in my arms while the wound at her side is stitched up.
* * *
The first thing I note when I’m fully awake is that I don’t feel sticky with blood anymore.
I’m in a fresh shirt and pants. My body has been wiped clean of all blood and sweat. But I still feel dirty in a way I can’t place at first.
Then I remember.
I killed people yesterday. Kymora hurt my sister. I hurt inside. Every part of me that feels aches.
When I twist my head to the side, I see Kellyn kneeling on the floor, his head slumped on the bed beside me, propped up in his arms.
His eyes rise sleepily when I prod him.
“Temra?” I ask.
“She’s all right. She’s sleeping next door.”
“Kymora?”
“Bound and kept in my parents’ garden shed. They know everything now.”
I rise slowly, my muscles straining just with that simple task. “Take me to my sister.”
I follow him down the little hallway to the room next door. Inside, the healer is in a rocking chair, dozing. Petrik is out on the floor. My sister looks clean and fresh on the bed, her arm and side bound heavily.
Ignoring the hand Kellyn tries to touch me with, I go to Temra, slide into the bed next to her. I let my hand brush over her hair, kiss the back of her head, push myself against her until I can feel her heat. Feel that she’s alive and all right.
Both Petrik and the healer rouse when they hear my crying.
“She’s alive,” I say. The healer had said something about surviving the first night being crucial.
“I’m keeping her unconscious,” the healer says, “because the pain will be unbearable right now, and if she fidgets about, she could start bleeding again.”