Page 170 of Keldori By Daybreak

I stood to follow Stanley, making a show of holding myself around the chest as if I were still in pain so they wouldn’t know my magick had mended me back to full health beneath my hoodie.

My friends were alive. Ciarán and I were alive.

All I had to do was survive a train ride.

Stanley opened the low door in the compartment wall, and I stepped through the joint connecting the cabs, bracing my hands against the doorway to keep my footing.

The next carriage was longer, and the bed that cut through the center of it indicated this must’ve been Tamora’s mobile bedroom. She had to be truly desperate for my help because Ciarán lay motionless atop her ornate quilts.

His bloodied armor, tunic, and cloak were piled by the foot of the bed, and a healer in a red frock slathered an acrid-smelling ointment on Ciarán’s bare chest. Una lay behind her, resting her large snout on her talons.

I staggered forward, pushing past Stanley to reach Ciarán’s bedside. Una lifted to her feet, knocking the healer to the side in the cramped space.

I cupped Ciarán’s cheek in my hand to roll his head to face me. His clammy skin clung to mine, and I held my breath as I pushed sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead.

“Is he—” I swallowed the rest of the sentence. He’d been assimilated with Ergoth for longer than I had. I had no idea what sort of damage could have been sustained in that time, or what destroying Ergoth might have done to him.

His eyelids fluttered open to reveal orange and black. His chapped lips twitched upwards in a weak smile.

“Hello, Blue.”

I fell over him, pressing my forehead to his and trying to wrap my arms around him. Una’s wagging tail thundered in a rhythmic pounding against the wall of the carriage.

“I thought you were—I don’t know.” I straightened up to better survey him. The red light of the steam-lamp hid the worst of the damage, but I could still make out the flayed skin where Ergoth had dug into Ciarán’s flesh.

I pressed my hands into the fresh ointment that the healer had just slathered over his chest, but Ciarán grabbed me by my wrist before I could heal his wounds.

“Not with the Baron’s man here,” he warned in my head.

I pressed my fingertips into Ciarán’s skin. He was right. Tamora would hesitate to let us go if she knew the full extent of my new abilities, but I hated seeing him in pain knowing I could help alleviate it.

“We’re on our way to a boat. The others are waiting—”

“I know, I was listening.”

I settled into the floor next to him, leaning my head against the plush of Tamora’s bed. “We’ll have to fight rotsbane.”

“You can’t really still be scared of rotsbane?” He extended his hand to brush his fingertips against my cheek as a coy smile played across his lips.

“No.” I conceded. I focused on where his fingers met my face, and transferred what little healing magick I safely could through the light touch.

Ciarán sighed as the magick passed from me to him and pressed his full hand against the side of my face. His fingers dug into the shaved hair at the nape of my neck, and I leaned in so he could better grab me.

“You’re incredible, Wren Warrender.

“It was my fault we went in there at all. You wanted to go around.” Tears stung behind my eyes.

“It worked out.”

“Did it hurt you? When I killed Ergoth?”

He blinked slowly at me, and his proud smile slipped from his face.

“I don’t want to talk about Ergoth.” He whispered the words out loud.

I nodded into his hand, and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered back.