Page 108 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
The earth pitched beneath her, tossing her back into waiting arms. They squeezed, pinning her left hand to her side, and Nes acted on instinct, weaving a dagger in her right and thrusting it back. The point embedded itself in something firm. But her attacker made no sound.Leather.
A thick, cold object clamped around Nesrina’s neck as sweat and a vaguely familiar earthy scent enveloped her before a foul smelling rag smashed against her nose and mouth, held firmly by a strong hand. She struggled, gasping for breath against the mounting pressure as she tried jabbing with her dagger again. But it was no longer in her grip, vanished into nothingness. And the arrow, embedded in Ataht... She realized her grasp was gone as she faded into unconsciousness.
thirty-six
Kas runs around a lot.
CradlingAtahtinhisarms, Kas raced back to the manor. Della sped along on little legs, nearly keeping pace with him.
As they neared the kitchen entrance, the closest door to the glade, Della shouted for the healer. Two staff members in the garden jumped up at the sight of them and ran inside, hopefully to get the healer. Someone yelled about finding the queen and riding out to the temple, but Kas didn’t care, as long as they got Hevva.
In a panicked daze he slammed through the partially open kitchen door, faintly aware of a squishy sort of resistance when it should have hit the wall. He hoped he hadn’t harmed whoever was behind it, but fear for his nephew’s life outweighed his ability to consider the issue further.
He was about to lay the prince upon a worktable when a gush of hot blood flowed over his hand. Cursing, Kas looked down to confirm what he already suspected: The arrow tip embedded in Ataht’s chest was gone.
“Stanch the bleeding!” he commanded no one in particular, unable to take his eyes off the gruesome wound. There wasn’t much he could do with his air. How he wished he had fire magic; he’d cauterize the damned thing.
With a soft pop, a cork appeared, jammed into Ataht’s wound. It stopped the worst of the blood flow. After confirming his nephew still breathed, Kas lay him on the table and turned to find the healer bursting in with two assistants in tow. A welcomed sight.
“Please, Your Grace, let us tend to him. You’ve done everything you can.” Letif’s gruff voice was laced with empathy.
Reluctantly Kas moved away from the table, his eyes landing on his niece, standing off to the side, looking so small, so fragile. Moving quickly, he scooped her into a hug. “Della, are you all right?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She sobbed into his shoulder, her little fingers digging into his arm.
“Did you do that?” he gestured toward Ataht.
“I didn’t hurt my brother!” Recoiling, pain and fear shone in her gaze.
“No, I’m sorry. I mean, did you make the stopper?”
“I did.”
“Della, I’m so proud of you. You saved his life.”
A faint smile flickered, a sunbeam breaking through her clouded, tear-stained face.
Hoping to elicit more joy, he teased her. “A cork, though? He’s not a bottle of wine.”
She laughed in earnest, briefly, before a haunting sadness overtook her once again. “Will he be all right, do you think?”
Bracing his hands upon her shoulders, Kas crouched down so they were eye to eye. “I don’t know, Adella. We acted quickly and did everything we could to help him. The healers have to take it from here.”
Hevva burst into the kitchen via the same door Kas used, squishing the same unfortunate servant against the wall. “What happened!?” she sobbed, eyes frantic.
Kas rushed over, steadying her as he said, “Letif’s doing everything he can. It was an accident, an arrow... I’ll explain later.” His eyes flicked to Della.
Hevva nodded before welcoming her daughter into her arms and stationing herself at her son’s side.
In time, the frantic kitchen calmed, and the head healer reassured them the prince would recover. He needed peace, quiet, and time. His mother was there, and Letif wasn’t ready to move the boy. It was made clear to Kas that his own presence was no longer necessary. If anything, his agitated pacing was making the staff nervous.
Della had curled up on a hard wooden chair off to the side of the fireplace, always blazing even this time of year. For a moment, he feared she was sobbing based on the way her forehead rested on her knees and her arms wrapped around her shins. But on closer inspection Kas found she’d fallen asleep. He could make himself useful while Hevva remained with Ataht.
“Salima, send cocoa and cookies to Della’s room.” He sounded testier than he would have liked.
The cook nodded, she knew Kas was burnt from both ends.
Finally, hours after the initial accident, Kas scooped up his sleepy niece and forced himself to leave her brother’s side. He doubted Della was ready to talk about what had happened, but when she was, he would be there for her. There was no way he would bring it up first, the poor thing probably felt like a monster after her arrow went astray.
