Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(119)

As soon as he lets go, she crumples to her knees. “I wouldn’t hurt her! Please, mistress,” she says, suddenly contrite. “Have mercy. I’m a simple servant, an underling of no consequence.”

I ignore her pleading and hurry to Faelan’s side. I take in the hole in his chest, skin streaked with blood, his hair matted with it, the gaping wound on his neck . . . His eyes are closed, his lips pressed together, as if he’s holding in a scream.

“Oh, God, please no,” I whisper, trying to untie the rope binding his wrists. “You’re okay, Faelan, you’ll be okay now.” But the knot won’t come undone. “Kieran, get the torque unlocked!” I yell. “Hurry!”

He squats on the other side of Faelan, then swipes some blood onto the rim of the torque. It falls away, and Kieran tosses it aside, pulls out his knife, and cuts the bonds. He frowns, watching me warily as I cup Faelan’s cheek, touch his forehead.

“Can you hear me, Faelan?” I ask. “Come on, wake up. I’m right here. Please.” I study his chest, his neck, but nothing happens. I turn to Kieran. “Why isn’t he waking up?”

Kieran just looks at me.

“What do we do?” I shake Faelan’s arm. Why is he so cold?

“He’s not strong enough,” Kieran says, his voice flat.

“What? No. Of course he is.” I grip his shoulder. He’s fine. He has to be. “Faelan, come back. Wake up!”

“He’s not going to wake up, Sage,” Kieran says.

“Shut up!” I scream, my voice cracking with pain. And then I go back to shaking Faelan’s arm. He’ll wake up. He has to wake up. He’s a demigod, like me. Astrid was lying when she said he could die, she was trying to scare me. Now Kieran’s just being evil. This is his fault, anyway—if he’d helped instead of watching . . .

No, it’s my fault. I should’ve just used my power, but I hesitated.

I hesitated. And now . . .

No. “Come on, Faelan,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder.

“You care for him deeply,” Kieran says, his voice tight.

I don’t say anything. I can’t believe this is real.

He seems to be considering something. And then he shifts, slipping his knife into his boot. “Move away,” he says, his tone stiff.

But I can’t. I can’t move. “Please wake up, Faelan.”

“Sage,” Kieran says. “You must move if I’m to draw his spirit back.”

I sit up, staring at him, wondering if I heard him right. His features blur, becoming the familiar face of my king, the green of our surroundings fading to white. Tears streak my cheeks, and I smell ice. But the air around me is warm. It’s a dream filtering through. “What are you saying?”

He ignores my question and says again, “Move away, Sage. There is a time limit to this.”

I blink, and he’s Kieran, surrounded by green, his features tight. He nudges me back from Faelan’s side. “You can’t touch me, or him, as I do this. And I’m going to need to feed when it’s done.” He glances behind me to Astrid. “Speak up if you have any ideas on a victim,” he says.

I obey, moving back.

He closes his eyes and rests his hand over Faelan’s heart.

My pulse stutters as the silver and black smoke lifts from Kieran’s chest, swirling and trailing down his arm. The scent of roses fills the space between us just before the familiar snap of mint bites at the air. The moss and grass around us shift from rich green to brown.

Faelan’s hand twitches, and the flesh on his neck begins to move, sliding back into place as his wounds seal.

I look over at Kieran, opening my mouth to thank him but the words die in my throat. His pale skin is violet and dark circles rim his eyes. He mutters something I can’t hear and then goes limp, collapsing beside Faelan.

“Kieran!” I lunge forward.

“Feed,” he whispers.

“Okay, take from me.” I move so that he can hold my arm or something, get his hands on bare skin.

He shakes his head. He moves his hand a little, like he’s trying to point, and I know he’s directing me to Astrid.

“You’ll kill her, Kieran.”

“Good.”

While I was all for it a few minutes ago, I’m not sure I can kill her now that she’s pleading for her life.

Before I can wrap my head around what to do, Astrid is suddenly scrambling up, taking off, running for the shadow of the trees as she sees her chance to escape with Kieran weakened.

Shit.

But before I can even stand to chase after her, she crumples in the ferns.

Kieran releases a low chuckle beside me. “Tethered her spirit to mine.”

The snap and crack of bending and breaking branches rises into the clearing. Astrid’s screeches of protest follow as the grass and ferns shift, and Astrid is dragged back by an invisible hand, kicking and flailing through the trees until she’s sliding up to Kieran’s side.

As soon as his fingers catch her ankle, Astrid chokes on her screams. Kieran pulls himself up, crawling over her like a beast, straddling her, gripping her neck. He leans in, getting almost nose to nose with her as thick black smoke threads from his arms.

“You,” he growls. “You shouldn’t have touched her.” The black smoke coming from him thickens, coating her body, wrapping around her arms and her chest like a spider’s trap as she gapes at his pale face.