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“What did you do?” I forced the words out through the scream, through my gasps for breath as everything spun. She didn’t even look up from my blood. She sat there staring, snarling.
“Perhaps you will stop trying to be anything other than what you are, Elara. Perhaps I will see to it if you keep breaking my rules,” she still spoke to my blood, rubbing it between her fingers now. The color was all wrong, but I couldn’t even see it properly, the world was twisting, everything fading.
“Boy. You were charged with protecting her. Protect her. I wouldn’t let her die if I were you.” The smile that twisted over her face couldn’t have been real, just like the darkness in her eyes… It wasn't normal. “You don’t want to know what will happen if you break another of my commands.”
Everything was still spinning as Queen Dalyah stood, her steps heavy against the carpet as she walked out of the tent, leaving me bleeding on the carpet.
Chapter 40
Elara
Ihad never been so glad that I wore so many petticoats.
The Boy ripped off a wide strip of one with surprising ease, the fabric tearing with a sound that was so close to that of my mother’s laugh I flinched.
“What did she do?” I gasped through my sobs as the Boy rose with the long stretch of white fabric, his deft hands already wrapping it around the long cut.
Shaking his head in answer, he tied the fabric, the long strip already turning a deep shade of scarlet as my blood soaked it.
That wasn’t a good thing.
“Boy?” My voice shook, panic pulling at every part of my soul. Looking at him, at the dark expanse of him that was starting to smear against the white of my mother’s tent, I could have sworn I saw that panic stare right back.
He clicked his tongue over and over as he raced around my mother’s tent, opening drawers and satchels and anything he could find. Keeping my eyes open was becoming a chore as I watched him, the whole world swaying and dancing around me as everything grew colder, and colder.
I hadn’t been this cold since the day my Catalyst died. The day when everything changed.
So cold… there wasn’t any warmth left in the world, she had taken it all away. I needed to lay down on the carpet. I needed to sleep and find warmth.
The shadow of the Boy jumped, something in his hand as the world rose up to greet me. I fell into strong arms instead.
The familiar sounds of his clicks were right in my ear, everything still spinning as he lifted me, holding me right against him. Against that warmth of him. There was some heat left in the world, the last precious bit of it left in the entire Realm of Okivo. He was so warm I could feel it through the leathers. That smell, the smell that I always associated with my rooms, with home. The scent of wind, leaves, and lavender. It was everywhere on him.
As though he was the smell. As though he was home and not those stuffy rooms we were always locked in.
I leaned into it, only vaguely aware he was running. The air whipped against my cheeks, the cold of it should have been biting, but it almost felt warm against the cold that was everywhere.
“Boy?” I forced the word out through the biting, bleeding, cold that was everywhere. He clicked, the sound drowned out by the creak of the stairs and then the door to the carriage. Everything rocked as the door slammed shut, the padded cushion feeling far too soft, as though it was made of water and not a bit of stuffing and wool.
“What happened?” Someone hissed from the door. Aeinya. Her panic was everywhere, bleeding from her as it did from the Boy. As it did from my arm.
I wanted to tell her to go away, to leave before Dalyah saw. But she was in the carriage before I could even see straight enough to find words, the door slamming shut behind her.
“By the Goddess,” Aeinya hissed as the Boy's quickly wrapped bandage was removed, and I felt the tug of more of my skirts being ripped. “Who did this to you?”
“Dalll…” I could only press one sound out from the chatter in my teeth as Aeinya’s face swam into view, the fear and panic that echoed my own staring back.
“I know this doesn’t help, Elara. But I’ve seen worse. You need to sit up. You need to stay awake.” I mumbled as they both pushed me to sit, the Boys’ strong arms holding me there. “Do you have needle and thread?” Aeinya asked, her voice distant as everything drifted in and out of focus. He clicked, one hand still on me as he handed something over.
“Good. I’m going to stitch it up, but we need to stop the bleeding.” The Boy clicked at Aeinya’s request, his hands squeezing my shoulders before he dropped to his knees. More ripping, more mumbling and then a tight pressure at the top of my arm as something was tied there.
“Hold her still,” Aeinya whispered before the pinch of a needle against skin pricked its way up my arm. I expected pain, but everything was already in pain. This was another ache that was adding to the delirium of agony that was still making everything black.
“Stay awake, Elara,” Aeinya’s voice was so far away, everything was far away.
Then, with the sound of rustling fabric, his bare hands were on my face; warm, hot hands that sent tingles of light and stars over my skin. Even though all the warmth had been sucked from the world, he was still a sun.
My sun.
