Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(142)

"I might have," Fade said. "Whatever killed Septimus, I might have been able to stop it. Or at least slow it down enough to allow him to handle it. Even if I only managed to preserve him a single second, and even if I'd died doing it, it might have been all he needed."

"Or it might not," Isana said quietly. "You might have died senselessly with him. You know he wouldn't have wanted that."

Fade clenched his teeth, the tightened muscles of his jaw distorting the lines of his face. "I should have died with them. I wish I had." He shook his head. "Part of me died that day, Isana. Araris Valerian. Araris the brave. I ran from the fight. I left the side of the man I swore to protect."

Isana stopped and touched the brand upon his face. "This was only a disguise, Araris. A costume. A mask. They had to think you were dead if you were to be able to protect Tavi."

"It was a disguise," Araris said, bitter. "It was also the truth."

Isana sighed. "No, Fade. You are the most courageous man I've ever known."

"I left him," he said. "I left him."

"Because he wished you to protect us."

"And I failed him in that, as well. I let your sister die."

Isana felt a dart of remembered pain strike her chest. "There was nothing you could have done. That was not your fault."

"It was. I should have seen that Marat. Should have stopped him b-before-" Fade held his hands up to his ears and shook his head. "I can't do this anymore, I can't see him, see you, be there anymore, my lady please, just leave me, let me go to him, to my lord, left him, coward mark, coward heart..

He trailed off into incoherent babbling, and when his body thrashed weakly in the healing tub, trying to take his hand from hers, the image-Fade vanished again, leaving Isana alone with the mound of imaginary stones.

She went back to work.

Later, she blinked her eyes, forcing her thoughts back to the chamber in Cereus's citadel for a moment, looking around the room. Fade lay in the tub, muscles quivering in random little twitches. She reached across him to touch his forehead with her free hand, and confirmed what she already knew.

Fade had given up the fight. He did not want to recover.

His fever had grown worse.

He was dying.

The door opened and Giraldi paced quietly into the room, a mug of broth in his hand. "Steadholder?"

She gave him a faint smile as he passed her the mug. It was difficult for her to eat and keep food down, given the constant pain the crafting required, but it was vital that she do so. "Thank you, centurion."

"Course." He stumped over to the window and stared out. "Crows, Stead-holder. I always hated getting into a battle. But I think standing around like this is worse." The fingers of his sword hand opened and closed rhythmically upon his cane.

Isana took a slow sip of broth. "How fares the battle?"

"Kalare's taken the upper hand," Giraldi responded. "He worked out how to draw out Cereus's Knights so that he could eliminate them."

Isana closed her eyes and shook her head. "What happened?"

"He ordered his Knights to attack a residential district," Giraldi replied. "Including the city's largest orphanage and a number of streets where retired le-gionares were living out their pensions."

Isana grimaced. "Great furies. The man is a monster." Giraldi grunted. "Worked, though." His voice became something distant, impersonal. "There's only so many times you can see an elder getting cut down. Only so many times you can hear a child screaming. Then you have to do something. Even if it's stupid. "