Page 68 of The Deathless One
For all that she’d tried her best to protect her lands, she was still a princess and thus innocent to the evils of this world.
A sharp pain vibrated through his jaw, and he touched a hand to the sudden ache. Was he feeling old memories in this realm now? That would certainly throw a wrench into his plans. This place was always meant to be a numbing solitude. If he began to feel things here, too, that certainly wouldn’t end well for him.
Another pain, this time in his left side. Strange. He had never…
Jessamine.
A cold sensation traveled down his spine, and he realized that Jessamine and he were tied far closer than he had ever suspected. Something was happening to her. Something, or someone, was attacking his little gravesinger, and he needed her alive for a lot longer than this.
Elric tried to go to her. He was so confident he could, but he’d apparently been in that realm with her longer than he’d originally thought. He felt the flexing of his power, but the dangerous and sharp edge of shadows that kept him in this realm never budged. He wasn’t strong enough to leave on his own. Baring his teeth in frustration, he tilted his head back and shouted, “When will this curse release me?”
He had not filled his reserves of power yet. The chains around him from the gravesingers’ curse were still binding and tight. Soon, he would have enough magic to break free from this realm, but not yet. He could visit those who worshipped him, of course, but she did not worship him. Unfortunately, it also meant she had no patron. No protection.
She was utterly alone.
He had no idea how long it took for the summoning to take place. All he knew was that one moment he was in his realm, and the next, the shadows released him with a wet pop and he was standing in a dark alleyway.
It wasn’t the same day as the last time he’d seen her. Time had passed. He could feel it deep in his bones, but that meant she’d been wandering this city without him. He searched the shadows where he’d been summoned, gaining his bearings in this city of thieves and robbers. And then he saw her.
Jessamine sat on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with a rip in the shoulder of her shirt and mud splattered all over her form. Her cloak was on the ground beside her, so saturated in blood it looked black. A dark bruise already bloomed along her jaw, but it was the blood leaking out of her left side that gave him pause. A knife wound, he would guess, and considering her labored breathing, it was a wound she wouldn’t survive.
She pressed her hand over the gash, but blood still seeped between her fingers. Her pale face was ashen, those dark eyelashes dusting her cheeks the moment she saw him.
“I made a mistake,” she wheezed, her voice ragged and tinged with pain.
He took a staggering step toward her, his heart in his throat. “I… I’m so sorry, Jessamine.”
“I know, I know. Ruined your plans.” She took her hand away to look at it, swallowing hard as she saw the amount of blood on her hand. “Can’t just march up and ask people about Callum. Silly of me, I guess.”
He walked over to her side, then crouched down to look into her eyes. The poor thing was already halfway dead. There wasn’t a person in this realm who could save her life, even if he tried his best to get their attention.
She would die. Again. All because he hadn’t been here.
“What happened?” he rasped.
“I asked the wrong people about Callum.” She leaned her head back against the wall, ragged breathing barely filling her lungs. “They thought I was a witch.”
“So they killed you?”
“I’m not dead yet.” Her eyes opened wide before she looked down at her bloody fingers again. “Although, I suppose you’re right. I’m probably dying again, aren’t I?”
Elric leaned forward and pressed his hand over hers. “I’m not able to heal a mortal wound like this in your realm. Little ones, yes. Benji stabbing your shoulder wouldn’t have killed you, but this… certainly will. Such things are beyond the powers that I possess.”
A little hiccup escaped her lips before she nodded. “Right. I should have guessed that.”
“Tell me everything.”
“They said I was a witch, and that witches don’t belong in the Factory District.” She blinked a few more times, as though trying to get him back into focus. “It is a shame. Witches could probably help us more than they could hurt.”
“I know that to be true.” Squeezing her hand, he sighed. “Why didn’t you use your powers? Even unintentionally, you could have killed them all. Look at what you did to Benji.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They were afraid of me. When the first one threw a punch, I had the thought, I could raze them all to the ground and leave them bleeding out. But then I saw how afraid they were, and how that fear was what they expelled every time they hit me, and I…”
The parallel to his own life was not lost on him. He’d allowed himself to be sacrificed countless times, knives and fists applied to his flesh like a balm that was meant to heal everyone else but him. She’d done the same thing for her people, even if it was the wrong thing to do.
Wrong for her, perhaps. But such a choice was his entire existence.
“A queen feels both rage and compassion,” he murmured. “A just queen knows how to choose between the two.”
