Page 193 of Heat of the Everflame

More footsteps came pounding toward us. I braced for Centenaries, but to my short-lived relief, two familiar faces appeared.

Alixe turned sheet-white as she sucked in a breath. Zalaric’s shoulders sank.

Alixe came and kneeled beside me. Her eyes darted over Luther’s chest—analyzing, assessing, putting the clues togetherand searching for a solution in her clever, strategic brain. We watched in silence, perhaps sharing some collective hope that she, of us all, could find a way out.

But when she turned to me, her expression despondent, it became real in a way it hadn’t been before. Real in a way that clung to my bones and soaked into my marrow, infected my blood and wormed into my brain.

“I called Sorae,” I told her. “How fast can she get here?”

“Three hours, maybe four. It will take at least twice that to get home.” She eyed Luther. “And the journey won’t be easy.”

“Can she carry all of us?”

“I think so. She’s carried four before.”

My focus darted to Zalaric, then back to Alixe. “What about five? Can she handle that?”

Zalaric visibly reacted, taking a step back.

Alixe frowned. “It’ll be tight. And it will slow her down.”

I drew in a shaky breath. Could I abandon Zalaric to Yrselle’s wrath in the hopes that an extra hour might make a difference to Luther’s fate? Would I ever forgive myself, if I did?

I looked at Zalaric. “Yrselle has not forgiven you for helping us. I had hoped to barter with her for your protection, but now... Zalaric, you should come with us to Lumnos.”

His expression hardened. “This is my home. There are people here who rely on me.”

“They can come, too—I’ll charter a boat to bring them all. Or I’ll send money, if they decide to stay. Whatever you need.”

“I’m sorry,” Luther said quietly. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

Zalaric shook his head. “I could have turned you away. I knew the risks, and I made my choice. I live and die by my own terms, no one else’s.”

“Come with us,” Taran begged. “I don’t want to wonder if you’re going to die, too.”

Zalaric’s expression softened, but still he hesitated. “Let me think it over. In the meantime, I’ll help you prepare.”

While Alixe leftto gather her things, Taran and Zalaric helped Luther dress then moved him to the bed. Over his protests, I made a new batch of poultice to dress his wound.

It was an excruciating process for us both. Even the lightest touch sent him writhing, and the closer I got to his injury, the harder it became for me to deny his grim prognosis. If I was just a healer, and he was just my patient, our conversation would look very different.

When I finished, I stroked his hair until he drifted into a restless sleep, then I grudgingly forced myself to return to my quarters and grab my bag.

Every second away was torture. Was I missing his final moments? His last words, his last breath? Would I return to find him gone forever?

Would I burn the world to the ground if I did?

I rushed back to his room and stared at his chest, holding my breath, until I saw its shallow rise.

Taran and Zalaric waved off my attempts to help them gather Luther’s things, insisting I stay at his side. I obeyed, quietly grateful for that small kindness, and folded myself against him, one hand at his heart, its slow rhythm like a flickering match held just beside a fuse.

Near Luther’s desk, Taran’s expression darkened as he gazed at a pile of papers. “He wrote each of us goodbye letters,” he said quietly. “Lily and Eleanor, too.”

“Burn mine, I don’t want to see it. This isn’t goodbye.” My stomach twisted so hard I flinched. “But... save the others.”

He ignored the first part of my order and threw the entire stack into his bag. He started to toss the compass in as well, then paused. He flipped it open, and I heard the soft whirr of the spinning arrow as it sought out the object of his heart’s desire.

The compass clicked to a stop.

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