Page 9 of Fallen Star

Which means...

Riven steps through behind him, his silver eyes gleaming in the frost-light as they lock onto mine.

Relief floods through me, and all at once, I can breathe again.

“You’re alive.” His voice is neutral, betraying nothing of what he’s thinking as he places the large pack he’s carrying on the ground.

Ghost has a pack on his back, too.

“Barely,” I say, but despite my relief, I don’t lower my dagger. “What took you so long?”

His brow lifts slightly, but he doesn’t rise to my bait.

Instead, his eyes shift to Zoey.

“What happened?” he asks.

“You tell me.” I lower my weapon. Obviously, I’m not going to attack him, given that a few hours ago, I was begging a rock for him to come help me. “We were attacked when we crossed that ravine. Dark angels, branch monsters, shadow creatures. Take your pick.”

“I heard you through the stone while you were being attacked. I came as fast as I could,” he says. “I had some… obstacles on my way here.”

“I had some ‘obstacles,’ too.” I huff, glaring at him.

“You told the dark angel something before you killed it.” He steps closer, a hum of electricity filling the space between us. “That you didn’t know what you were.”

Crap.

I did say that. I was trying to communicate with Riven through the whisper stone while answering the dark angel’s questions, which means he heard everything I said during the exchange.

More than I wanted him to hear.

“The dark angel tried to kill you,” he continues. “Torture you. Make you reveal something that you claim is a mystery, even to you.”

“My projection magic,” I say quickly, scrambling for a way around the fact that the dark angel was talking about my air magic. “I used it near the dark angel. But I don’t know how I can do it. It’s not a fae ability. He didn’t know, either.”

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”

Panic rushes through me. I can only skirt around the truth for so long.

I have to change the subject. Quickly. Before he pushes for more.

“Zoey’s dying,” I repeat, tears welling up in my throat as I motion to her unconscious body. “Those ice dragons slashed her arm in the forest, and the dark angel flung her into a tree. The wound on her arm is bad. So is the bump on her head. She needs help, and I made that bandage for her, but I don’t know what else to do.”

His expression shifts, concern crossing his face as he walks to Zoey, kneels beside her, and presses his palm to her forehead.

“The fever’s bad,” he says. “So is the wound.”

I kneel on Zoey’s other side, looking Riven straight in the eyes.

Is it just me, or does it look like he actually cares?

“Can you help her?” I ask. “Make a healing potion or something?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, still examining her.

“Basic healing potions are simple to brew,” he finally says. “But those are for cuts before infection sets in, or a single fractured bone. This...” He gestures to the blood-soaked bandage on Zoey’s arm, and the angry bruise on her head. “Her skull is cracked, she has several shattered bones, she’s lost a lot of blood, and her wound has progressed to a whole-body infection. Given her state, the potion would have to be brewed by someone with extreme magical talent.”

My stomach drops. “But you can do it. Right?”

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