Page 64 of Grim and Oro
Then I see what she’s stepping toward.
This time, her emotions don’t bleed into mine. They don’t influence mine. Because she is hopeful. She isexcited.
“No,” she breathes. “That can’t be—no, that’s too easy, it can’t—”
“It’s the sword.”
We both see it, perched atop a pile of other stolen relics. Glimmering. Two blades, intertwined, curved around each other. It is undeniably the one we’ve been looking for.
I should feel bone-melting relief, knowing that the key to stopping the dreks and saving my people is just a few feet away.
But all I feel is dread.
Isla has no idea. I feel her excitement, her joy, and it makes me want to stab myself with my own blade.
“We just have to sneak past it without waking it,” she says, as if it’s easy. “That’s it.”
I have the sudden urge to dissuade her. To abandon this plan completely. “And if it does wake, it will char us alive.”
It isn’t worth the risk, I tell myself.
I can’t use my powers this close to the sword. But getting past the dragon without them could be impossible.
She steps forward, and I have no other choice but to follow her, my heart in my throat, as she inches toward impending danger.
The arrow comes out of nowhere.
I’m on her in a moment. It is instinct to throw myself between her and any danger. I pin her to the ground as arrows skewer my body, one by one, cutting through skin and muscle, making me lurch forward.
She looks up at me, her eyes widening in fear. Inhorror. She opens her mouth to scream, but my hand smothers her lips before she can wake the dragon.
Our eyes locked, I barely feel the pain as arrow after arrow pierces my back, all the way through my chest, nearly deep enough to reach hers.
She looks so confused. Like she’s wondering why I would throw myself in front of her without question.
As I’m pierced through a dozen times, all I can think is,I would gladly be your shield. I would gladly be your sword.
I am your enemy ... but I am alsoyours.
The arrows stop. She’s panting, her chest almost meeting mine with each breath—almost meeting the arrow tips. She’s studying my wounds.
My blood is puddling onto her. There’s a single arrow embedded in her leg. I curse myself for not being fast enough to take all of them.
I should never have let her go first.
She reaches up to drag my hand from her lips. “Portal away,” she whispers, voice trembling.
She is afraid for me. She thinks I might die. She’s choosingmeover the sword ...
No. I shake my head, then push to my knees. I lift her into my arms and stand.
Twelve arrows through my chest, I carry her out of the cave.
The pain is nothing compared to the fear of seeing that first arrow hurtling toward her. My heart lives outside my body now, it seems.
It is sofragile.
We make it far enough away from the sword for me to portal us back into my room. Finally, when she’s safe, the pain and blood loss catch up with me. I collapse.
