Page 142 of Heat of the Everflame

“How much did they pay you?” Taran demanded, disgust dripping in his tone. “How many gold marks were our lives worth?”

Zalaric pursed his lips, his expression shuttering to an icy indifference.

Taran pushed in closer. “Really? Nothing to say for yourself?”

Hands curled into fists, Luther began to rise.

“Leave him alone,” I said. “I’m the one to blame.”

Every head in the cave swiveled to me.

Symond crossed his arms and grinned, apparently content to watch our drama play out.

I looked down at the Cardinal. Her eyes had closed to thin slivers, her lips now a dull grey, and her pulse was slowing at an alarming rate.

“You knew?” Luther asked.

His delicate, lethal tone should have warned me, but I was too distracted to realize how thick the air had turned.

I swore to myself, racking my brain for a solution. The herbs in my bag were useless for this kind of injury. I could pack the wound with gauze, but she would still suffocate on her own blood before her Descended healing could repair the wound.

I hunched over the Cardinal’s body, my thoughts circling around what happened with Zalaric in the tunnels. If I could dothat, then maybe, just maybe...

“You knew?” Luther demanded again.

“Yes,” I mumbled absently as my eyes closed. I laid my hands over her throat, her blood-soaked skin slippery under my touch. My magic was thrumming in a way that felt excited, unchained.

Voices volleyed above me as the men began to argue—Luther’s rumble, Taran’s growl, Zalaric’s aloofness, Symond’s snark. They were all shouting, accusing, trading barbs and threats.

Alixe kneeled at my side. “How can I help?” she asked quietly.

“I... I can’t let anyone see,” I murmured.

She nodded and turned her back to me, then subtly spread her coat wider to block me from view.

I released my hold on my godhood, trusting in its magic to do the impossible. A cold-hot sensation rippled over my body and concentrated at my palms with a sharp prick of pain. A soft glow pooled beneath my touch, flared to a blinding pulse, then faded away.

The Cardinal’s eyes flew open. She gasped for breath, and I clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Close your eyes,” I hissed. “Don’t move.”

A single nod was her only response.

With my hands still quivering at the shock of what I’d just done, I took my cloak and laid it out over her body and covered her face. I drew in a steadying breath to calm the thundering in my chest, then stood and faced the others.

Taran and Zalaric were nose to nose, looking ready to come to blows at any second. Luther was on his knees, face twisted in pain as he rammed his fist into his own side, while Symond stood above him with palms extended, chuckling darkly. The other Centenaries had circled Alixe, some with hands extended, others hovering near their blades.

This was adisaster. I needed to get us out of this cave before anyone saw what I’d done and keep Symond’s attention on me and off my friends.

And I knew exactly how to do it... I just hoped Luther would forgive me.

“She’s gone,” I said loudly.

The fighting stopped.

Again, a sea of faces turned to me.

“I’m sorry, Zalaric. The Cardinal didn’t make it.”

---