Page 7 of Blood of the Fallen
“But…”
“Do it!” her command was unequivocal.
I glanced down at the weapon still embedded in Kall’s eye socket. It glowed with electric energy, pulsing like a heartbeat while all three males spasm.
Gritting my teeth, I swiftly went for the hilt and wrapped my hand around it. A jolt of violent pain shot up my arm. I cried out as the energy pushed me back with tremendous force. I flew backward, and it took all of my willpower not to let go of the knife.
Airwhooshedpast my lips as I hit the ground. My head spun as the world tumbled around me. I sucked in a breath and pushed up to my elbows with difficulty. Val’s knife laid discarded on the ground a few feet away from me, and Kall and the others…
They were utterly still.
Ila and Bethel stared down at them, frozen and wide-eyed.
“Are they…?” I started to ask.
“Shh!” Bethel issued a command, air hissing through her teeth. Her black eyes flicked from side to side as she seemed to sort through possible courses of action.
After a moment, she shook her head, did a weird little hop without standing, and repositioned herself in front of Kall. Pressing her hands to each side of his head, she closed her eyes and began chanting in a language I couldn’t understand. Her lips moved fast, and soon her hands were glowing, energy flowing into Kall.
Ila and I stared, unmoving. My hand closed around a handful of dirt as I held my breath, watching for any sign of movement from Kall.
Please, please, please.
They couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t. If they were, I would rather—
One of Kall’s hands twitched, and a shallow breath shuddered through him.
Ila gasped in relief, pressing a hand to her mouth. Tears shone on her cheeks, but she swatted them away and started tending to Maki and Novuk, who were now stirring.
I sat up all the way, my very bones aching, and crawled back toward Kall. I was about to touch him when I noticed Bethel was still in the throngs of her healing spell, a litany of whispers rushing past her lips. Sweat peppered her forehead and upper lip. Her brow was kneaded in concentration.
My eyes swept down the column of her neck and the length of her arms down to her hands, where she held Kall’s head and a gentle glow transferred from her to him.
Stomach tightening in horror, I stared at Kall’s mutilated face, the eye socket dark and empty, and oozing blood.
Bethel’s entire body shuddered, and I thought she might collapse, spent from exertion, but she held on and continued her spell, choppy words issuing feverishly from her lips as if each one took everything she had.
I wrapped my arms around my chest as a gust of wind blew through, rediscovering I was naked. Ila tossed her fur jacket at me. I put it on, secured it at the front, and shivered. Every inch of my skin felt new and tender, able to sense the slightest contact.Weird.
Several minutes passed. Ila sat back on her heels, looking defeated. She was the pack’s healer, but she had no magic. She relied on salves and poultices to treat her patients, the way she’d done with my torn-up feet after I escaped Lux Academy. But no poultice could help here, only Bethel’s witchcraft could. Or at least I hoped so.
Suddenly, Bethel slumped on the ground, exhausted. She breathed heavily as rivulets of sweat dripped down her face.
She shook her head. “I don’t know if it will be enough,” she said breathlessly.
Ila and I exchanged a heavy glance. I dared to get closer to Kall and lay a hand on his shoulder. His skin was clammy and cold. Blood marred the left side of his face, drying quickly. I despaired, guilt building quickly, like a tumbling snowball inside my chest.
“The triad’s healing powers will make it enough,” Ila said, trying to sound confident, though her words trembled a bit at the end.
I had seen, firsthand, what those combined healing powers could do. Maki had recovered from a deadly arrow wound by borrowing energy from his triad mates. Maybe that was why the other two wolves had collapsed when Kall fell. Maybe the injury had been too terrible and—
“I don’t understand why Maki and Novuk are like this,” Ila said, shaking her head.
Bethel sat up straighter, inhaling deeply as if drawing strength from the air. She wiped a hand over her brow and exhaled.
“I don’t either,” she said, once more looking as if she were evaluating a million possibilities.
Slowly, she seemed to regain some of her strength and reached for the shoulder bag slung across her body. She set it down in front of her and dug through it. She came up with strips of cloth and a small jar, which she handed to Ila.
