Page 107 of Trial of Thorns
My magic swirls in my chest, fingers tingling with the magic needed to heal her. It’s a strange thing to heal someone else. There’s an intimacy to forming your own magic beneath their skin and continuing to wield it. To use it to stitch their flesh back together.
I close my eyes as I work, the power flowing easily, but the touch of her soft skin beneath my fingers, the feel of her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, is a distraction.
I rip my hand from her body as it begins to burn, as my head grows light. I’ve used too much magic healing my enemy. Everything about this is messed up. I press my hand up against the stone wall to brace myself from the exhaustion.
Caelynn saved my life.
I saved hers.
Aren’t we supposed to be doing the opposite?
She slips to the ground slowly, head tilted back to watch me as I my fingers fumble in my bag. I grip a vial, then use my teeth to pop the cork. “Drink this,” I tell her.
She takes it in her shaking, blood-crusted hand and tosses it back in one big gulp while I fumble for another for myself. We’re both drained and exhausted. Healing, for both parties, is extremely taxing. Particularly for the untrained.
Not for the first time, I send a silent curse to my father for not letting me train in healing magic.
I squat beside Caelynn and examine her injury. I think I did a decent job sealing the core of her injury, all vital organs are intact and functioning, but the wound isn’t entirely closed.
“Let go,” I tell her softly. She watches me with her dark eyes, eyebrows pulled low. She pulls her fingers away without breaking eye contact.
I tug away some of the ripped and singed fabric, exposing soft skin below the wound that was ragged open just moments ago. It’s now almost entirely closed, but still bright red and inflamed and covered in blood. My forefinger brushes some of the blood away, soft and slow.
Caelynn groans. I freeze at the sound.
“Please, stop,” she says breathlessly. I pull my hand back quickly, suddenly realizing how close we are, our breaths mingling.
I swallow and stand, taking a step back. My heart beats so fast, and I get the feeling that’s not going to stop any time soon.
“Thank you,” she says with a weak voice.
I don’t respond.
“You probably should have just left me to die.”
I sit on a low stone, knees nearly touching my chest. “Maybe,” I say honestly. Though, in that moment, the thought did not even cross my mind. I had to save her, that’s all I knew. All I felt. “But you’re a pretty valuable ally right now. I wouldn’t have found the cave without your sprite friends.”
Her eyebrows pull down, and she looks around as if she just noticed where we are. “Tyadin?”
I shrug. “I didn’t see him once the arrow hit. I’m hoping he fled.”
She nods absently.
“Are we in the right caves?” I ask.
“I assume so. There’s only one cave system so far as I know, but there are many tunnels and a few entrances. I’m not particularly familiar with this one, but I doubt we’re far from where we need to be.”
I nod.
“Just do me a favor,” she says, her voice low, her breath picking up speed. “Don’t go down any paths alone. This place is...”
“Dangerous?” I grin because that’s obvious—everything here is dangerous—but the expression on her face gives me pause.
“You have no idea.”
The Caelynn I’ve known has been entirely indifferent, occasionally with a hint of sadness or anger or at best nostalgia. But I’ve yet to see even a hint of fear in her eyes.
Until now.
