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“It’s all right, my dear. You’re safe now.”
But there was no safety in his eyes, only a reflection of the same darkness that was swallowing her whole.
“It’s not all right,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “We’re in terrible danger.”
She laughed, but it was a watery sound, and before she knew it, she was sobbing, the tears coming in a hot, angry rush. Osric held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head, and she clung to him desperately, as if he were the only thing keeping her from being swept away.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, his voice so soft, so gentle. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
But even in her fear and her grief, Hali knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.
“I don’t understand,” Hali said. “What does the Obsidian Circle want with me? With my shop?”
“I don’t know,” Osric said, his face drawn and weary. “But I’m going to find out.”
Hali looked up at him, and in the soft, gray light, she saw the same determination in his eyes that she felt in her own heart. This was her world, her story, the one she’d been waiting for all her life, and she wasn’t about to back down now. She might not have a suit of armor or a magic sword, but she had her wits, and her courage, and the fierce, unyielding love that burned in her heart. It was enough to make even the most impossible quest seem possible, and she knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that she would see it through.
“Then let’s get to the bottom of this,” she said, and she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Let’s find out who these people are, and what they want. And then we can make sure they never threaten us again.”
She squeezed Osric’s hand, and let herself pretend that there was no darkness closing in around them, that it was just the two of them, together. She let herself pretend that the warmth of his hand in hers was enough to keep the shadows at bay.
“Are you with me, my handsome prince?”
“Always, my lady. Always.”
Chapter
Six
Osric stumbled up the back staircase to Hali’s apartment, her hand a warm, sturdy presence under his upper arm. “Easy there, big guy,” she said. “Almost there. Just a few more steps.”
He tried to nod, but the world was a hazy, pulsing thing, and he wasn’t entirely sure his head was still attached to his neck. “I told you,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”
“Nonsense,” she said, and he knew she was upset because there was no playful lilt to her voice, no teasing insult to soften the words. “You got your ass kicked because of me. It’s very far from fine.”
They reached the top of the stairs, and Hali fumbled for her keys, her hands shaking. Sooty appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes widening with alarm. “What in the hells happened?”
“Later,” Hali said. “Help me get him inside.”
They half-dragged, half-carried him to the living room, and Hali eased him down onto the threadbare couch. She disappeared into the kitchen, and when she came back, she was carrying a basin of water, a stack of clean cloths, and a small wooden box that Osric recognized as a first aid kit.
She sat on the coffee table in front of him and took his face in her hands, turning it this way and that to assess the damage. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, and there were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “You’re a mess.”
“I’ve had worse,” he said, though even he could hear the weakness in his own voice. “I’ve dished out worse, too. I’m just sorry we didn’t catch them.”
She ignored him, and he knew it was pointless to argue. Hali was stubborn to the core, and when she’d made up her mind about something, there was no changing it. “Sooty, lock up the shop and go find the city guard. Tell them it’s urgent. Relay as many details as you can. I’ll be down once I know Oz is all right.”
Sooty hesitated, glancing from Hali to Osric. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“We’ll be fine,” Hali said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Just tell the guard what happened, and hopefully this time they’ll actually listen.”
Sooty nodded, and hurried back down the stairs.
Once he’d gone, Hali turned her attention back to Osric. “Now, let’s see about getting you cleaned up.”
Osric winced as she began to dab at the gash on his cheek, the stinging pain of the antiseptic a welcome change from the relentless throbbing of his injuries. He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic scrape of the cloth against his skin, and the steady flow of his own blood, warm and bright, almost like lava.
“I’m sorry,” Hali said, her voice trembling. “I’m trying to be gentle, I promise. But I’ve never cleaned anyone’s wounds that were, um. Well—like this.”
