Page 8 of The Last Wish of Bristol Keats
“Definitely notched like an old alley cat, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by it. Madame Chastain gave her something for the pain, though. It’s left her a bit loopy.”
Tyghan noted that the High Witch gave at least some of her patients pain medicine.
“Is she taking visitors?” Quin asked.
Bristol smiled. “I think she would welcome a visit from you.”
For the first time in Tyghan’s recollection, he saw Quin blush, his dark skin reddening at his temples.Quin and Hollis?When did that happen? How had he not seen it? Quin eagerly excused himself, and Bristol turned her attention back to Tyghan. He saw the fatigue in her face, the heaviness of her lids, a sadness in her eyes she was trying to hide. The day had punched something out of her. It was a wonder she wanted to be with him at all. Did everyone in the room see it too? Or was it just his own guilt, conjuring something that wasn’t really there?
He reached out and took her bandaged hand in his. “What happened here? I didn’t heal it?”
“It required more layers of spells and balms.” She told him Madame Chastain explained that the Abyss portal was different from other portals because it held eons of the powerfully evil. And since it was a caustic cauldron of the worst the world has ever seen, it wasn’t surprising that it could burn deeply into a hand that tried to reach inside. “Madame Chastain said the goddess Brigid never meant for it to be opened again, and she suspects only the strongest of bloodmarked can open or close it.”
Tyghan saw the concern in her eyes.The strongest of bloodmarkeddid not describe her. She blinked, forcing a smile. “Can we go rest in our room for a little while? I know there’s a watch, but—”
He nodded. “Everything’s quiet, and the watch is set. We have time to rest.” He told Kasta where he’d be and to alert him if there was any change, then let Bristol lead him to her room, which was apparently “their” room once again.
But as soon as they entered, she slumped into his arms, her breath coming in gulps. His arms circled her protectively. “I’m sorry, Bri. I am so sorry.”
CHAPTER 7
Bristol pressed into the broad darkness of Tyghan’s chest, like it could block out the world. All she wanted to do was hide.
He whispered words gently against her hair, his voice soothing. It wasn’t the words that mattered, but him, something solid and true in a life that was slipping from her grasp.
“Bri.” Tyghan gently lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” she said, uncertain what he was apologizing for. “I told you, it’s only a flesh wound. And I was the one who did it. Not you. I pressed into your knife. There was no other choice.”
“Not the wound,” he said. “That we used you as a hostage.”
Hostage.
The thought circled back, one of many shattered moments of the day that had assaulted her since she had stared into her mother’s eyes and heard the wordskill her. She shivered, seeing her mother’s cold jade eyes again.Go ahead, kill the creature. Bristol had no value as a hostage, not even for her own mother.
Her knees wobbled. The room swayed.
Tyghan scooped her up, holding her tight like he would never let her out of his arms, his lips resting against her forehead. He carried her to the sofa and laid her down, then swept a blanket over her shoulders and turned his attention to the hearth. It was already set with logs, and with a gentle motion of his hand and a whispered word, the logs ignited. When he looked back at her, his face was pure misery.
She shook her head. “I don’t blame you, Tyghan. We saved Hollis and the others. That’s what matters. It was an impossible situation, and a hard choice had to be made.”
“I didn’t want to do it—”
“You think I didn’t know? That was obvious. It was a chaotic moment—there wasn’t time to think, much less explain. I would have done the same thing.” Splintered images shot through her mind: Quin’s troubled whispers, Tyghan drawing his knife and turning toward her—the unknown. A plan she hadn’t trained for. “When you grabbed me, I was shocked . . . but that shock paled—”
She shook her head. Tyghan sat down beside her. “Tell me.”
She stared at the crackling fire. “The way she looked at me . . . I was nothing to her. A stranger. I can’t shake it from my mind. She pushed you to kill me. More than once. She didn’t care.”
“That’s how she looks at us all, Bri. That’s who your mother is. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not who she used to be.”
Tyghan had no response. This Maire was the only one he had ever known.
“My father warned me that she might not know me. I’m not sure that she did. How can a mother forget her own child?”
“She must have remembered something. She let us go.”
