Page 83 of Unbetrothed

What had I done? I raced toward Zichri. His eyelashes fluttered as if he struggled to keep his eyes open, and I sank next to him. I placed my fingertips against his neck, and a weak pulse bumped against my skin. Blood continued to pool beneath his leg, too much blood.

“You can’t leave us.” I cupped his cheek, willing him to live, but my markings didn’t even blink to life.

Cosme rushed into the hall, his Dotado companions close behind him.

“Get Mamá now! She’s in the balcony room!” My voice came out forceful and desperate.

Beyond Cosme, Giddelian soldiers raced into the palace corridor. Cosme whistled to a Dotado next to him, and the fellow darted out the doorway. My brother hurried next to me, ripping his sleeve. He exposed the bloody wound, wrapped it with his sleeve, and tied the fabric tight. Blood soaked through the fabric.

“He needs a healer,” Cosme said in a low tone.

“Mamá can heal him.” I exhaled a quivering breath.

Dark strands of Cosme’s hair flopped over his forehead. Dirt smeared his cheeks. A worry line deepened between his eyebrows as I sensed the pinch of doubt tethered between him and me.

My mouth grew tight. “Yes. She. Can.”

Footfalls pounded at the doorway. My gaze flew in that direction. Mamá shot to Cosme’s side and dropped to her knees.

Searching her face through a torrent of tears, I begged, “Please save him. Don’t let him die.”

Mamá placed a glowing hand over Zichri’s wounded leg and closed her eyes. I’d never seen her heal more than a scrape or a nick, but today she had shown her ability to be far greater than anything I’d ever seen her do.

Zichri closed his eyes. The world around me spun. Did he faint? Was he dead?

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. “Stay awake just a little longer. Healers can fix you. We still need to roam the forest together.” Tears gushed, and snot ran down just as fast. I didn’t care about propriety. “Just a little longer, Zichri.”

He breathed out, “I love you.”

I sighed in relief. “Save your breath. You are going to live.” I plopped my head on his chest. “You will live. You must live.”

Warm blood continued to soak into my trousers.

Mamá pressed her hand over Zichri’s chest. Her touch glowed with orange heat that warmed my face. I gnawed my bottom lip, watching no change in Zichri’s blanched face. He’d lost so much blood. Mamá trembled with strain.

Someone gripped my shoulder.

I flinched but didn’t bother to see who it was, afraid to miss Zichri’s final breath.

CHAPTER 43

“LET ME HELP,” PAPÁsaid in a steady voice.

I turned my gaze up. Papá squeezed my shoulder in a tender gesture. A string connected him to me, letting in waves of gentle sunshine that matched the compassion glistening in his hazel eyes. When had he arrived? A half dozen more Giddelian soldiers also stood among my Himzo friends in the grand hall. Beyond the doorway, Cosme’s friends marched captured Himzo and Pedrozian soldiers, who kept their hands woven over their heads. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have judged Cosme so harshly.

Lucas ran into the hall, disheveled, muddied, bloody, with a gash running across his forehead. He crouched beside my brother. “Cosme, they’re retreating.”

Zichri wheezed, and it drew me back to our situation. Mamá shook, her hands glowing a fiery red over his chest.

“Mamá …” I didn’t know what else to say. Deep inside, I wanted Zichri to live, but I didn’t want it at her expense.

Papá placed a steadying hand on Mamá’s shoulder. She still trembled, but not so vigorously. Cosme clasped Papá’s shoulder. A second later, Mamá opened her eyes. Lucas patted Cosme’s back, and the effect was immediate. Mamá pressed her shoulders back. Another soldier I’d never met before joined, and a chain formed.

I had never seen anything like it. The room flooded with power—a sensation of gentle warmth. I held Zichri’s hand, and a current pulsed through my body, which I shifted to flow into Zichri. His breath steadied. The beat of his heart strengthened. I brushed his hair from his forehead. Caressing his cheek, I whispered, “See, you can’t leave us, not like this.”

When I raised my gaze, Gonzalo, Blas, Milo, and Jaime had joined the chain. Blas connected and disconnected his fingers from the soldier in front of him. He had the look of a boy receiving his first real sword as he watched the bright current, rushing like mini lightning bolts from his fingertips. Gonzalo swiped his cheeks with his free hand, and Milo yanked on his curls with moons for eyes. I’d be surprised if Jaime saw much of anything beyond his tears. The whole room illuminated with the brightest, glistening light I had ever seen.

“Beatriz,” Zichri whispered.

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