Page 24 of Rogue Familiar

“Unhand me, foul beast,” he muttered, but unable to jerk away.

“Do it, wizard,” she ordered.

“Just let me die.” His eyes drifted closed again. “In peace.”

“You tried that. It’s not working.”

“You’re telling me.”

“You need help, Jadren. Let me—”

“No. I left you for a reason.”

“Yes, well, we can talk about that later, when you’re not food for crows. Take my magic.”

“Can’t make me.”

She sighed. Stubborn fool. “Fine. Go back to sleep. You’ll want to miss this part.”

“Wasn’t sleeping, crazy girl.”

“Unconscious then.”

“Resting my eyes,” he corrected, a scary rattle crawling up his throat. “That sun is brutal,” he added on a dry whisper, eyes opening again to stare up at the relentless sky with a hopelessness she’d only seen in him once before, when they’d been consigned to his mother’s experimental torture chamber.

“Here.” She withdrew the flask Gabriel had given her and unstopped it, inverting it so that it would fill. “Do you want some water?”

“No,” he answered, not looking at her. “My master plan is to lie here under this punishing sun, bleeding out, until I’m a desiccated husk of rawhide and bleached bones like my friends here. At last I’ve found my tribe. And you’re not in it.”

“You belong with the living, Jadren.” It was easy to hold his head so that he couldn’t turn it. Pouring water into his mouth in short intervals, she hoped it would do him some good. It couldn’t hurt.

“I have living friends. My crow buddies visit all the time.”

“People. Not scavengers. You have a family and a home waiting for you.”

“Lies.” He struggled feebly against her grip, accomplishing exactly nothing. “You’re all just crows to me now. Get away from me, you feral swamp creature.”

All right, she hadn’t expected a joyful reunion, nor gratitude, but no way was she going to fight him every step of the way. She drank the rest of the flask’s contents herself—the sun was indeed intense—and hooked it on her belt again, surveying the femur staking him. With luck, he’d pass out once she began to lift him. She only hoped she possessed the strength to do it. The best method would be to break it off, since it couldn’t be pulled from the back. But the bone looked too solid. It would take forever to saw through. And something told her she didn’t have forever. A sense of foreboding crawled over her and she kept glancing warily at that cliff’s edge. Whoever had bested Jadren and tossed him over to his doom clearly frequented this spot. She didn’t want to be the next candidate for an impromptu flying lesson. “Who did this to you?” she asked.

“Gray birds,” he answered, fluttering the fingers of his less mangled hand. “Not like my crow friends. They love me.”

Delaying wouldn’t solve any of her problems, so she began gathering smaller rocks, wedging them under his shoulders and hips to straighten his body from the agonizingly bowed arch, aligning his shattered spine as she did. He cursed her, but vaguely now, his mind blurring and wandering with the pain and the mess it was in. Truly it was a wonder he was capable of speech, much less thought. He mostly talked about the crows, calling them by various names he’d apparently assigned to them. Several had returned, perching on nearby rocks and watching her with white eyes stark against their glossy black feathers.

She pitched a handful of gravel at them. “Go on,” she snarled, taking out her exhausted and helpless ire on them. “Free lunch is over.”

“Wasn’t free,” Jadren whispered. “I made them pay good coin for every mouthful. Beakful? Made a tidy sum. Maman would be pleased.”

Selly couldn’t decide if she loved or loathed Jadren’s dark and twisted sense of humor in that moment. Finally deciding she had Jadren as level as she could get him, she stood and straddled him. A good half a forearm’s length to lift him. She could do this, especially if she used her leg strength. It would be ideal if she could tie a rope around him and loop it over a branch, so she could use Vale to lift Jadren up, but there were no helpful overhead branches. Only that merciless sky.

Squatting, she wrapped her arms around Jadren’s lean torso, securing her grip, her cheek next to the impaling bone. Fortunately, Jadren was built skinny—and was all that much lighter with so much flesh and blood lost. She couldn’t dwell on that. He batted feebly at her head and shoulders, muttering unintelligibly. Ignoring him, she instructed herself to do this in one pull, with all her strength. Just like escaping that sinkhole.

One. Two. Three.

With a grunt, she pushed up with her legs, Jadren flying up with her—far more easily than she’d expected, he weighed so little, barely more than skin over bone—and they tumbled backward with the force of her pull. She landed painfully amidst the rocks, Jadren on top of her, both of them groaning at the impact. The crows croaked in excitement, circling overhead, no doubt anticipating a double meal.

Jadren gasped out a laugh, sounding not unlike that crow family. “Oh honey, I know you’re hot for me, but not tonight. I have a headache.”

And he promptly passed out.

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