The Sharpest Blade

Our prolonged contact agitates my chaos lusters more. They strike down both my arms, and a hot, tingling sensation swirls in my palms before ricocheting into my chest. She feels it, too, and finally, recognition shines in her eyes.

“Let go of me,” she orders.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I comply. “Can you open the tunnel?”

She nods as she slowly pushes herself into a sitting position. She sways. Her eyes close, and I grab her arm again to steady her. Damn it, we don’t have time for her to be light-headed.

I draw in a breath, then, in one move, place her arm over my shoulder and surge to my feet. My back protests the movement, and the muscles in my legs just barely comply. Lena’s too hurt and too off-balance to be much more than deadweight.

We don’t exactly walk to the wall—it’s more of a badly controlled stumble—so when we actually reach it, I don’t have the strength or the balance to stop us. Lena’s face smacks into the stone.

She grunts.

“Sorry,” I say, when she glares at me. “Consider it payback for breaking my arm in Germany.”

A smile bends her busted lower lip. Good. I need her energized, her spirits high, and for her to have hope that we’ll get out of this.

“Open the tunnel,” I order.

She braces a hand against the wall, moves a half pace to the left, then reaches up to a stone set high above her head. When she flattens her palm against it, a blue glow flares out from her hand. Then, with what seems like a deafening rumble, the wall slides open.

The tunnel is pitch-black and narrow, barely wide enough for Lena and me to stand side by side in it.

“How long until he wakes up?” she asks. She’s looking at Aren.

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I injected you with something to wake you up.”

The eyebrow she lifts is caked with dried blood. “With something?”

“Ask me about it later,” I say. “We need to get out of here.”

“We can’t leave him.” Her voice is weak, and the only reason she’s still standing is because she’s leaning against the wall. In her eyes, I see how much she wants to move away from it, how much she wants to go to him and drag him out of here.

I want so much to do the same.

“I can’t carry both of you,” I say. My voice doesn’t tremble, but I feel my throat tightening. I feel my eyes burning and brimming with tears.

“You can’t wake him up, too?”

“I only had one dose.” And I had to use it on her, I tell myself. Aren’s hurt. He couldn’t carry Lena out of here any more than she could carry him.

Lena’s eyes widen slightly when she realizes I chose her over Aren.

“We can’t leave him,” she says again.

“We have to,” I whisper. “But we don’t have to leave him here.”

After I make sure she’s steady, I walk to him and crouch behind his head. On the outside, I’m in control. I’ve accepted my decision. I’m doing the right thing. On the inside, though, I’m dying. I want to scream, Move, damn you! But I just hook my arms under his, then, with a grunt, I drag him into the tunnel.

Lena attempts to heal the gash on his leg. I stop her before she finishes. She looks like she’s about to pass out. She protests but finally gives in. She closes the wall, then we begin our stumbling journey through the black tunnel.

Sometime later, I collapse. My lungs ache. My back and shoulders hurt from being knocked around and thrown down the stairs, and carrying Lena hasn’t helped. She’s barely able to support any of her weight. I didn’t realize how badly she was injured until I put her arm over my shoulder. Her side pressed into my side, and my shirt is now wet with her blood.

I’m not a healer, and she can’t heal herself. We have to find help quickly.

I put her arm over my shoulder again.

“McKenzie,” she says.

“It can’t be much farther.” I just have to get her outside the silver wall.

She slides away from me. “You can’t continue to carry me.”

“Feel free to help me out,” I say. Then I glance behind us again.

Maybe this is why my neck hurts. I’ve looked over my shoulder more than a dozen times since we started our escape. Lena’s looked back more than a few times as well. It’s not just because we’re worried about the false-blood pursuing us. Every step I take away from Aren leaves a piece of my shattered heart behind. We’re both hoping he’ll catch up with us. We’re both hoping he’ll live.

Lena starts to push herself to her feet. She almost makes it, but she suddenly grabs her stomach. Her shoulders hunch, and I know what’s going to happen next.

I pull her hair out of the way as she dry heaves. This is the fourth time she’s done this—there’s nothing left in her stomach anymore. The medicine I injected her with is wreaking havoc on her system.

“Better?” I ask when a handful of seconds passes without her heaving again. Weakly, she nods. I put her arm over my shoulder, and we continue stumbling down the tunnel.

I keep my sleeves pushed up. My contact with Lena is making my chaos lusters go crazy. I don’t want to touch her, but I don’t have a choice. The white bolts of lightning provide the only light in the tunnel. It’s not much—just enough to prevent me from cracking my head on low-hanging sections of rock.

More minutes pass. I don’t know how many. We’re both weak and covered in sweat, but the faint glow ahead makes me press on. It’s a narrow exit. We have to squeeze through it one at a time. As soon as Lena’s feet are clear, I crawl through the gap, my fingers finding tiny cracks in the rock to hold on to so I can pull myself across the hard surface.

Moonlight touches my face. Another pull, and I slide off a ledge, landing on my hip beside Lena. She’s on her back, looking up at the stars. They’re bright, even with the moon lighting the sky, and they’re completely foreign to me. The constellations of another world.

I make myself sit up when all I want to do is lie down. After using a craggy boulder as a crutch, I peek over it at the Realm’s capital city, which is below us now.

We’re at the base of the Corrist Mountains. Not too far from the gate, thank God. This is where I planned to escape with Aren. This is where Hison should be, and for once, I want to see the high noble. We need help. I don’t know how we’ll get to the gate on our own. It looks like the elari are guarding it. Cardak most likely knows we’re missing by now.

I scan once again for the high noble and his fae, but they’re nowhere in sight. They might have been captured already. Hison might have been killed.

I look up into the mountains. Or, he might have escaped. It’s possible.

It’s possible for him. Not for us. I can’t carry Lena any farther.

Exhausted, I turn my back to the boulder, then slide down until I’m sitting. Lena’s still lying on her back. Her eyes are closed, and she seems . . . serene. Like lying beneath the stars in the open mountain air calms her.

Oh, hell. This would be a perfect, peaceful place to lie down and die.

“Just a little farther,” I say, moving quickly to Lena’s side. No rest for us. We’re going to survive this.

I expect a protest, an order for me to sit down and rest, or at least a glare, but apparently, she doesn’t have the energy even for that. I get her into a sitting position and stand.