Page 26 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

A tiny sliver of hope, but it is all I have, and I will latch onto anything. Anything that represents a chance.

Sharp rocks and debris tear at my pants and knees but the pain and discomfort doesn’t matter. It might as well be happening to someone else. I dig through the rubble, throwing aside rocks as I fight to unbury the body.

I’m only dimly aware of footsteps approaching, but when I do hear them, I don’t look. I assume it’s Sek’su, if not then whoever it is can wait.

“Help me!” I yell.

Sek’su is at my side and helps. It moves faster with the two of us, but more debris flows in almost as fast as we dig. It’s taking too long. Each moment is an eternity, one in which I can do nothing but fear I am too late. Too slow. Too… something.

The legs lead to a back. It is Kharta. He isn’t moving but his form is hunched over, protective. Protruding from beneath him I see a hand. Her hand.

“Saylor!” I shout. The fingers of her filthy hand twitch. There is a dark streak across the upturned palm. “Is there any light?”

I growl and Sek’su disappears while I continue to unbury Kharta. When I remove enough that his head comes into view, my stomach tightens. There is no way he survived the explosion. It gives me pause, but only for a moment before I resume.

He gave his life to save her. I am grateful and will give him proper honors when I can, but first I have to see if he sacrificed his life in vain. Grabbing his shoulders I pull back, rising to my feet as I strain to move not only his body weight but the remaining rocks.

Muscles tear, I growl, but he moves. Debris is sliding and shifting. I can’t see exactly what’s happening, but a light comes, throwing back the darkness which tries to cling, sticky shadows laying across the body I’m moving and worse, hiding her.

Sek’su sets the lantern down and then moves to my aid. Together we lift Kharta. Sek’su takes him in his arms with a surprising degree of reverence while I drop beside Saylor. My hand shakes as I place two fingers on her neck.

She is okay. She has to be. Must.

Her pulse is weak, thready, but it is there. I scoop her into my arms, cradling her to my chest, and pull her out of the rubble. My throat is dry as I turn with her. Sek’su has his back to me, but I watch him lie Kharta gently down.

Wrenlee is close by his side. She’s covered in dirt. Her eyes are wide and don’t seem to be seeing what’s in front of her. She mumbles something, then touches one hand to her ear, shaking her head. Blood trickles down her forehead and into her eyes but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Is she?” Sek’su asks, not finishing the question, looking every bit as grim as I feel.

I look at Saylor, lying curled in my arms. So small, tiny, so perfect, my everything. My heart given shape outside my body. The pain is choking, clenching both my throat and stomach. I don’t see any visible wounds, but I’ve been in enough battles to know that the worst ones often aren’t the ones you see.

“She is fine,” I snap.

I don’t know that. How can I know it? But it has to be. I will not allow it to be any other way. If that bastard hurt her… if he… Iwill destroy the Shaman with my bare hands. I’ll put him on his infernal machine and listen to him scream for as long as I can possibly make it happen.

As my thoughts grow darker, she twitches, as if pulling me back from them. She is, as she always has been, my savior.

“Saylor?” I ask, hating the desperation in my voice. Her eyelids flutter and a sigh slips from her lips.

18

SAYLOR

It all happens too fast. Memory is fragmented. Disconnected images that individually don’t make sense, but they dance through my head like a skipping vid. One moment jumps to the next.

I’m at Khiara’s side. One of the Urr’ki runs. He’s coming. He’s on me. Screams. Pain.

The pain. It hurts. So much that my mind shies away. I’m at Khiara’s side, again. I don’t want to leave. Here I am safe. He will protect me. Keep the hurt away.

I can’t seem to catch my breath. I try. Inhaling, but there isn’t enough air. Or room. Or… something. It is rough. Hard. What is happening?

“Saylor.”

I hear my name. That is Khiara. It has to be, no one else sounds like him. Why does he sound scared? Lost? I’m here. I yell but even as I do I know it doesn’t work.

Why?

Why don’t the words go, like they should? It’s simple. Open the mouth, form the words, exert a small amount of effort… no. No air. That must be it.

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