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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
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“If you intend to save lives, go now,” Hafwyn said.
Doyle gave a small bow in my direction. Hawthorne and Brii fell in at his back, and they left us.
I looked at Hafwyn. “What can we do to keep them alive while we wait?” She told us. Ivi spread his cloak on the floor so that I could kneel in safety, while we did what little we could to hold their blood in their bodies, and their lives in our hands.
CHAPTER 35
I WAS LEFT STARING DOWN AT ROYAL’S BODY. HE WAS ALIVE, BUT only because a stomach wound takes longer to kill. The wood had gone so far into his stomach that a piece of it came out the other side, missing his spine by a hairsbreadth. I pressed the cloth on either side of that wound. Hafwyn cautioned me to be careful, and not move him. Not until they had someone with more healing than she had left in her hands.
Royal’s sister, Penny, was at his side, her dress covered in blood. Her hands were too small to compress the wound, but her words were plenty big enough to rub the guilt like sandpaper across my heart.
“We came to you for wings, and you have given us death.” She threw herself onto her brother, yelling at me, “Evil, you are all evil. You have never brought us anything but humiliation and destruction.”
I couldn’t argue with her, not with Royal’s body pressed against my hands, his life bleeding away.
She tried to grab him up onto her lap, and that made him cry out in pain. Hafwyn interfered. “Penny, Penny, if you move him you injure him further.”
But Penny had let her grief and fear swallow her. There was no reasoning with her. It was one of the other uninjured demi-fey who came and dragged her away. She cried and struggled, and the crème-colored rat that had pulled their chariot followed her like a frightened dog. It had kept its distance from Royal, as if it didn’t know quite what to do. But to her, it came, as if to help the other fey take her away.
Royal touched my hand with his, barely covering my knuckle with his entire hand. He was one of the tallest of the fey in the room, but tall is relative when your world is full of people who look like children’s toys.
He gazed up at me with his black eyes, his face so pale he looked ghost-like. But his chest still rose and fell against my fingertips, his stomach still convulsed as he closed his eyes, face pinching tight, with a spasm of pain. I felt him struggle not to writhe as that pain lanced through him.
I said the only thing I had left to offer. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I would not make excuses.
“If you intend to save lives, go now,” Hafwyn said.
Doyle gave a small bow in my direction. Hawthorne and Brii fell in at his back, and they left us.
I looked at Hafwyn. “What can we do to keep them alive while we wait?” She told us. Ivi spread his cloak on the floor so that I could kneel in safety, while we did what little we could to hold their blood in their bodies, and their lives in our hands.
CHAPTER 35
I WAS LEFT STARING DOWN AT ROYAL’S BODY. HE WAS ALIVE, BUT only because a stomach wound takes longer to kill. The wood had gone so far into his stomach that a piece of it came out the other side, missing his spine by a hairsbreadth. I pressed the cloth on either side of that wound. Hafwyn cautioned me to be careful, and not move him. Not until they had someone with more healing than she had left in her hands.
Royal’s sister, Penny, was at his side, her dress covered in blood. Her hands were too small to compress the wound, but her words were plenty big enough to rub the guilt like sandpaper across my heart.
“We came to you for wings, and you have given us death.” She threw herself onto her brother, yelling at me, “Evil, you are all evil. You have never brought us anything but humiliation and destruction.”
I couldn’t argue with her, not with Royal’s body pressed against my hands, his life bleeding away.
She tried to grab him up onto her lap, and that made him cry out in pain. Hafwyn interfered. “Penny, Penny, if you move him you injure him further.”
But Penny had let her grief and fear swallow her. There was no reasoning with her. It was one of the other uninjured demi-fey who came and dragged her away. She cried and struggled, and the crème-colored rat that had pulled their chariot followed her like a frightened dog. It had kept its distance from Royal, as if it didn’t know quite what to do. But to her, it came, as if to help the other fey take her away.
Royal touched my hand with his, barely covering my knuckle with his entire hand. He was one of the tallest of the fey in the room, but tall is relative when your world is full of people who look like children’s toys.
He gazed up at me with his black eyes, his face so pale he looked ghost-like. But his chest still rose and fell against my fingertips, his stomach still convulsed as he closed his eyes, face pinching tight, with a spasm of pain. I felt him struggle not to writhe as that pain lanced through him.
I said the only thing I had left to offer. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I would not make excuses.