The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game 3) - Page 18

“She’d rather have her father there,” he said.

“But she needs someone with magic,” Loelle said. “Go with her.”

I looked up at Darrow, who smiled as kindly as he always did. “A battle against the Dominion is coming,” he said. “I’ll be there for it, I promise.”

“You need to go now,” Loelle said. “If the Ironhearts get closer, the spirits can keep them at bay for a while, but not forever.”

That was enough to get me to my feet. With Joth’s help, I stumbled toward the Rawkyren, rolled onto its back, and felt Joth’s arms wrap around me as he braced us for a launch into the air. Which happened so suddenly that I felt like my stomach was floating up to my chest; then we cleared the treetops and went higher. And sometime shortly after that, I fell asleep, utterly exhausted.

We’ve crossed over Highwyn.” Joth was nudging me awake and smiled when I opened my eyes. I sat up, surprised to find myself feeling better than I had before, while Joth’s shoulders seemed heavier than when I’d last seen them. I suspected that, as close as he had been holding me as we flew, I must have drawn some of his strength to myself.

I tugged at the rag Loelle had wrapped around my palm after I had held the knife. The cut was already healed, further evidence that I had pulled strength from Joth. Yet even if he was weaker, he continued to hold me close.

“Highwyn?” I had expected the dragon would fly us south to Nessel, where Simon would be. If Simon had come to Highwyn, it would be for only one reason.

“Basil’s rescue,” I mumbled. Either he had been rescued, or was still in need of rescue. Or they had failed in the rescue but had obtained the location of the Olden Blade.

I hoped it was the first, or at least that he was alive. I had not always treated Basil as kindly as I ought to have done. Despite all of that, he had cared for me, and I desperately wanted him to be safe and well.

It wasn’t long before the dragon flew lower and I began to recognize the roads and buildings beneath us. More specifically, I recognized my former home, Woodcourt. A long, scorched line cut across what had once been our gardens, and I saw fallen bodies. The dragon must have done this too.

The dragon landed near the rear entrance, and Joth dismounted first, then helped me slide onto solid ground. My feet were barely down on the ground before Trina ran outside, calling my name.

“Is Basil here?” I asked.

Her eyes widened momentarily, surprised that I knew why I was here, then she said, “His life is in grave danger. Can you help him?”

“She’s still recovering from having helped someone else,” Joth said.

“Who are you?” If Trina picked up on the protective tone in Joth’s voice, she clearly resented it.

“I’ll do everything I can,” I said. “Take me to him.”

Trina led the way into Woodcourt and toward the east wing, my parents’ half of the home. As we ran, I asked, “Simon, is he—”

“He’s here, but he’s getting bandaged. Nothing serious,” she quickly added. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you as soon as he can.”

By then, we had reached the door to Sir Henry’s room. I hesitated in the corridor, dreading going inside. It was difficult enough to return to Woodcourt, mostly because of who my adopted father had been in any of our forced interactions. I’d rarely been allowed into his room. If anything, it was his sanctuary from me. But if Basil was in there, then I needed to enter.

I drew in a deep breath and held it when I opened the door. Immediately, my concern for having to think of my adopted father shifted to looking at Captain Tenger, who stood to greet me. He gave me a polite nod, but I did not return it. I did not trust what he might do the second my head was down, and I was surprised he trusted me enough to bring me here.

“Thank you for coming,” he said.

“Has Basil said anything?” When Tenger shook his head, I added, “Then leave us alone. I need privacy to do this.”

That wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t need the privacy, but I wanted it, and certainly wanted it from Tenger.

“Trina will stay—” Tenger began.

“Alone!” I snapped.

Joth began directing him and Trina toward the door, with both of them now asking who he was. When they left, Joth closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with Basil.

I warmed the clearstone in the room, brightening its light, then immediately set to work. Basil’s cheeks and eyes were sunken in, and his neck was so thin, I wondered how it held up his head. I placed one hand over his heart and felt a faint, reluctant thump, each one slower than the one before it. He was within minutes of death.

No sooner had I connected with Basil than I drew in a harsh gasp, sensing just a portion of what had happened to him, what was still happening. Endrick had tortured him physically, but there was also an internal torture I didn’t fully understand. It was twisting his soul, causing a torment I also felt in my own flesh. I would have to take as much as I could to have any chance of saving him.

I began with his heart, giving him strength until his pulse evened out. He wasn’t out of danger yet, but I didn’t want to give him too much too fast, for both our sakes.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen The Traitor's Game Fantasy
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