Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(102)

Don’t save me, I could read it in his eyes.

Something stabbed at my lungs, twisting until they bled.

I opened my mouth just as Darren’s hand fell away, his shoulders convulsing violently against the bars of his cell.

Ella helped me shift as Alex took over my spot. Not all healings were painless. Sometimes they got worse before they got better.

My fingers scratched across stone, inches from Darren’s own. I wanted to touch him so badly it hurt.

When it finally stopped minutes later, the king slumped against the wall; he couldn’t even lift his head.

I leaned in closer, but Darren’s eyes remained shut, clenched tightly against the pain. “Darren?” I’d never seen him like this, not even in the cave.

“He has to rest.” My brother gripped my arm. “And so do you. Ella can get you a healer upstairs.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not leaving.”

“Ryiah—”

“I said no, Alex!”

My brother dropped his hand. Then he looked to his wife.

“Ella,” he said, “can you get a second healer?”

The girl nodded and left.

It was a half hour later when she returned.

There was a knock at the door, and one of the guards went to open it, peering out at the people on the other side. There was a low murmur as the three exchanged words and then the guard stepped aside.

Ella appeared with two others, not one. A healer in her Red Restoration robes and Ian.

The latter had a bundle in his arms. He took a hitching breath as his gaze fell on Darren.

Seconds later, there was a pile of blankets in my lap. Ian’s eyes were bloodshot.

“All this time,” he croaked, “I thought he’d… but he didn’t?”

“No.” It was the only word I could manage.

“When Ella told me… I knew you wouldn’t want to leave, so I thought…” He nudged the blankets in my arm.

There was a burning in the back of my throat.

“Thank you, Ian,” I whispered.

“It’s nothing.”

The mage cast another glance at Darren and then back at me. He noticed my stare and gave the slightest nod with his chin.

Then he turned and left, without looking back.

I spread the blanket across Darren’s legs and my own. The second healer knelt to my side and saw to my wounds.

I hardly noticed the pain.

It was only as I was drifting to sleep that my fingers brushed a bit of parchment tucked tightly into the folds of my blanket.

The last thing I remembered was Ian’s nod, and then I closed my fist around the paper and drifted to sleep.



*

I know you are planning something. Whatever it is, I want to help.

-Ian





I read the words over and over again. It was late into the night, and the guards had grown lax, content to chatter amongst themselves instead of watching the rest of us for hours on end. They had our weapons, and there was only one exit to the dungeon; they weren’t concerned.

Planning something… Want to help.

Darren tossed and turned at my side. A fever had broken out within hours of Alex’s casting. My brother was still seeing to Darren’s healing—constantly assuring me that the fever was a good sign, that he could now fight off infection on his own—but most of Alex’s treatment had changed to that of a court physician.

We had to let the fever run its course.

Darren’s side of the blanket was soaked with sweat. He alternated between shivers and burning skin. He cried out in his sleep. Every time he did, it was like a dagger to the chest.

Only this time I couldn’t save him.

No magic.

My fingers dug into the blanket. I’d never felt so helpless in my life.

I took a shuddering breath as I repeated the lines, again.

Planning something… Want to help.

Was it a test for Priscilla and the rebels? Or did Ian truly want to help?

Did it even matter?

My pulse pounded in my throat.

I knew what I had to do.



*

Seven hours later, I was ready. I hated leaving Darren, but I didn’t have a choice. Plotting and gathering support would do more than pining away while he slept.

Alex and Ella helped me back to my chamber in silence. I knew they were worried about me. I had refused to eat or drink anything since I awoke, but there were more pressing things on my mind.

What I was about to say next, I couldn’t risk being overheard. But first…

“Alex.” I addressed my twin as soon as he shut the door. “Can you find Ian?”

“I knew it,” he muttered. “You are planning something, aren’t you?”

“Please.”

“You trust him?”

I didn’t have a choice; I needed all the help we could get. What I was planning… it would be a miracle in itself. And Ian had shown true regret. He had also fought for me against the rebels. That would have to be enough. “Yes.”

Twenty minutes later, my brother was back, Ian in tow.

“You got my note?”

There was a knot in my stomach, and it wouldn’t go away. I nodded.

Ian took a spot next to Alex against the door. His fingers flickered momentarily, bright as he cast a barrier for sound just in case anyone was listening on the other side.