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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 258 из 293Then they all fell to their knees and beganto scream and writhe on the ground.
“Is it poison?” Adair raised his voice to be heard over them.
Hafwyn said, “I do not know, Goddess help me, but I do not know.”
The wounds spurted blood upward like a dozen crimson fountains. The demi-fey without wounds still writhed, and called out in pain, but they had no wounds for the blood to be called from. For that was what it looked like. It looked like some version of my own hand of blood. Except I was not doing it, and no one else had the power to do it.
Then blood burst out of all of them like some hand was punching through their wounds. The wood pieces were pushed out in a last burst of blood and screams. It was as if the flesh itself was rejecting the wood.
The piece that had nearly bisected Royal was one of the last to come out, for it was one of the largest and most deeply embedded.
“Is this healing them?” Frost asked, making his voice heard above the demi-fey’s screams.
“I am not sure,” Hafwyn said. “I think so.”
Even knowing that, it was hard to watch. Then I discovered something else. Hafwyn had not found all the splinters in my own wound. Those tiny splinters that she had missed began to push their way out of my flesh.
Galen looked down at me. I think I squeezed his hand again. He looked a question at me, but I shook my head. If Hafwyn could do anything to help ease pain, it wasn’t me who needed it.
Frost had a gun in one hand, and a sword in the other. Adair stood a little away from him, weapon out, as well. Ivi had moved to the other side of the room away from them, and he, too, stood with bared sword. He had a look so serious on him that it almost didn’t look like him. They were covering the room. They were going on the idea that this might be an attack. I didn’t think it was that kind of a problem, but they were the bodyguards and I was not. Besides, I was too busy gripping Galen’s hand and trying not to scream.
Two tiny splinters had worked their way out, blood spurting out of the wound in my side. It felt as if a fist were trying to punch its way out. I fought not to scream, to simply hold on to Galen’s hand, but I couldn’t hold my body still while the magic tried to shove its way through my body.
Frost was there, kneeling. “Merry!”
Someone yelled for Hafwyn.
My other hand reached into the air, and Nicca grabbed it. I had a moment to cling to Galen and Nicca’s hands, a moment when the pain pulled back, and it was as if the world drew a breath. The three of us knelt in a well of silence.
“Is it poison?” Adair raised his voice to be heard over them.
Hafwyn said, “I do not know, Goddess help me, but I do not know.”
The wounds spurted blood upward like a dozen crimson fountains. The demi-fey without wounds still writhed, and called out in pain, but they had no wounds for the blood to be called from. For that was what it looked like. It looked like some version of my own hand of blood. Except I was not doing it, and no one else had the power to do it.
Then blood burst out of all of them like some hand was punching through their wounds. The wood pieces were pushed out in a last burst of blood and screams. It was as if the flesh itself was rejecting the wood.
The piece that had nearly bisected Royal was one of the last to come out, for it was one of the largest and most deeply embedded.
“Is this healing them?” Frost asked, making his voice heard above the demi-fey’s screams.
“I am not sure,” Hafwyn said. “I think so.”
Even knowing that, it was hard to watch. Then I discovered something else. Hafwyn had not found all the splinters in my own wound. Those tiny splinters that she had missed began to push their way out of my flesh.
Galen looked down at me. I think I squeezed his hand again. He looked a question at me, but I shook my head. If Hafwyn could do anything to help ease pain, it wasn’t me who needed it.
Frost had a gun in one hand, and a sword in the other. Adair stood a little away from him, weapon out, as well. Ivi had moved to the other side of the room away from them, and he, too, stood with bared sword. He had a look so serious on him that it almost didn’t look like him. They were covering the room. They were going on the idea that this might be an attack. I didn’t think it was that kind of a problem, but they were the bodyguards and I was not. Besides, I was too busy gripping Galen’s hand and trying not to scream.
Two tiny splinters had worked their way out, blood spurting out of the wound in my side. It felt as if a fist were trying to punch its way out. I fought not to scream, to simply hold on to Galen’s hand, but I couldn’t hold my body still while the magic tried to shove its way through my body.
Frost was there, kneeling. “Merry!”
Someone yelled for Hafwyn.
My other hand reached into the air, and Nicca grabbed it. I had a moment to cling to Galen and Nicca’s hands, a moment when the pain pulled back, and it was as if the world drew a breath. The three of us knelt in a well of silence.