I planned on speaking to everyone in the morning. All of them. The families. Ramon and Nelly. My steps felt heavy.
“You look tired, meyaah Liessa,” Sage noted as I approached her, the last of the injured. Sprawled out on the cot, her short, dark hair was a spiky mess. A thin sheet was tucked under her arms, covering her body entirely except for the leg that an arrow jutted from. It had been left in to prevent additional bleeding, and I knew it had to hurt something fierce. I’d tried to come to her sooner, but she continuously waved me off until everyone else, including those with much less severe injuries, were treated.
I lowered myself onto the floor beside her, grateful to no longer be wearing the armor. “It’s been a long day.”
“And then some.” She leaned back on her elbows. A fine sheen of sweat dotted her brow. “We’ll have more days like this.” Her gaze shifted away from me. “Won’t we?”
I knew where she looked. They’d brought in a wolven named Effie. He’d been in bad shape, having taken a spear to the chest. I’d known he was gone when I knelt beside him, but a desperate sort of childish hope had driven me to try. My abilities had worked on the Atlantian soldier who had passed. A young male who only Naill and I had seen take his last breath. He’d come right back, a little groggy and disorientated but alive. Not so for the wolven. Or Arden.
I hadn’t misunderstood what Reaver had said. Only the Primal of Life could bring back those of two worlds.
We’d lost five wolven and close to a hundred Atlantian soldiers. We would’ve lost more if their injuries had been left untreated. But still, any loss was too much.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my heart twisting as I thought about what Casteel had once told me. Nearly half of the wolven had died in the War of Two Kings. They had only begun to reclaim those numbers. I didn’t want to lead them into that many deaths again.
Her gaze cut to me. “I’m sorry, too.”
Chest heavy, I shoved at the long sleeves of the white top. They kept slipping down. “Naill?” I glanced over my shoulder. “I need your help.”
“Of course.” He lowered himself beside me, far more graceful than I, and he still wore his armor. Weariness I felt in my soul etched into the lines around his mouth as he carefully gripped the arrow. He knew the drill by now. “Let me know when.”
I met Sage’s eyes. “This will hurt.”
“I know. This isn’t the first time I’ve been hit by an arrow.”
My brows rose.
A grin appeared. “It involved a dare that went horribly wrong. Long story. Maybe I’ll tell you about it later?”
“I would like that.” I was very curious about a dare that involved an arrow. “I will take the pain as fast as I can, but…”
“Yeah, I’m going to feel it when he pulls it out.” Sage dragged in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Placing my hands on either side of the arrow, I summoned the eather and got down to business. “Now.”
Naill yanked the arrow free with a quickness born of experience. Sage’s entire body spasmed, but she made no sound. Nothing until I heard a sigh of relief and the jagged hole in her thigh stitched itself together, the skin now a bright, raw pink.
“That was”—Sage’s round eyes blinked—“intense.”
“Better, though?”
“Unbelievably so.” She gingerly curled her leg and then straightened it. “I’ve watched you do this, over and over. And still, it’s…intense.”
I smiled faintly, rocking back. “I’m no Healer, so I don’t know how much of the wound heals immediately. I would take it easy for the next couple of days.”
“No running around or dancing…” She trailed off, her eyes widening as her gaze fixed over my shoulder. “What the…?”
Naill and I followed her gaze. My mouth dropped open as the Atlantian made a choked sound.
Walking through the hall was a tall blond wearing what appeared to be a sheet knotted at the hips—barely knotted. With each long-legged step, the sheet appeared mere centimeters from slipping away.
“Reaver,” I whispered, a little rattled by the sight of him.
Naill made that sound again.
“That’s the draken?” Sage asked, and I realized she must not have seen him in his mortal form before.
“Yep.”
“Really?” She eyed him. “Yum.”
Naill looked down at her, his jaw slack. “He can breathe fire.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
Thankfully, Naill didn’t answer because Reaver had reached us. He nodded at the other two and then bowed slightly in my direction, causing the sheet to slip a little more.
“We need to find some clothing for you,” I said, remembering what I had asked of Kieran. I doubted Reaver would fit into anything the Duke had worn. “Like as soon as possible.” Then I thought of the other draken. “We need to find a lot of clothing.”