Page 118 of The Threadbare Queen

It swelled, and she had a horrible feeling that it was rising to a crescendo that would break in ways that no one would like.

She just embroidered one flower under his cuff. She could feel Luc’s rib cage move up and down where she leaned against him, and she was afraid she was hurting him.

When she finished, she bent to bite off the thread with her teeth and a small movement made her turn her head. Her face was close to his and she looked directly into his eyes, which were open in narrow slits.

Heart racing, she pressed his cuff down deliberately onto the skin of his inner wrist, holding it there, and then reached out with her other hand and put a finger lightly against his lips.

He had told her before he could see her when she was wearing her invisibility workings, not clearly, but as a shadowy shape.

He would know it was her.

He parted cracked lips and gently bit the top of her finger.

She drew in a quick breath, fighting a sob, and Massi turned back again, worry on her face.

Luc coughed to cover for her, and then struggled to sit up.

Ava moved back to give him space, looping an arm around his shoulder and squeezing tight for a moment, her heart so full of relief, she struggled not to tremble.

“I’ll go and see if I can help those who are still alive,” she whispered in his ear, and he gave a tiny nod.

She scooted back, shaking out the tension that had gripped her until now, and then rose to her feet and walked to the next person, a soldier of some seniority, she guessed, by the style and formality of his clothing.

He was breathing, but only just, and seemed in worse condition than Luc had been.

She knelt beside him and got to work.

Chapter 29

Ava had felt . . . frail.

Luc could only see her as a faint shadow, but he was sure he felt her ribs as she leaned against him to sew healing into his sleeve. Her weight had hardly registered.

He didn’t understand how she was here. Had she come with another unit from Fernwell?

Massi put a hand down to help him up, and he could see the stark relief on her face as he pushed up to sitting.

Standing might be a stretch for now, but at least he was conscious and able to participate in what looked to have been a night-long stand-off.

He could see the exhaustion in Massi’s eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak and started coughing again. It hurt, and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he bent over, trying to suck in air.

Whatever the poison had been, it had affected his lungs, freezing them.

He had come slowly back to consciousness, felt the tight iron band around his chest begin to loosen, while Ava had been sewing a working into his collar.

Now, while the tightness was still there, it was lifting with every breath, and he spent a moment just relishing being able to drag air into his lungs.

He studied the Jatan when he was finally able to lift his head again, looking for who among the senior officers in the front line might not be so happy at his recovery.

He glanced at the other victims lying around him, all the councillors, as well as Baclar and Tuart, and saw that he was in the best shape.

Didier was clearly dead, his eyes open and staring up at the sky.

A shadow hovered over Fallacia, which meant Ava was sewing something into her clothing. The councillor must be hanging on.

General Tuart shifted position and started to cough. He guessed Ava had already seen to him, although the Jatan’s eyes were still closed.

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