Page 160 of Heir of Illusion

His words pound through my skull, and I feel as if I’m sinking deeper into the ground beneath us.

“Where are you hit?” I manage to ask.

“My leg. It’s only a graze,” he says, as if that somehow makes it better. “Hold on.”

A few seconds later, his weight disappears from my back, and I quickly push myself onto my knees. Glancing up, I find a blanket of shadow forming a few inches above our heads. Inside the darkness, snakes slither and hiss, snapping at each arrow that threatens to fly past them. The inky cloud hangs low, forcing us to stay close to the ground but providing enough cover to crawl around.

The sound of a quiet whimper pulls my attention behind me where I find the others gathered around Della. My heart stutters as I spot the arrow lodged in her left shoulder.

“No,” I breathe, moving on my hands and knees to reach her.

This can’t be happening. She can’t d—I squeeze my eyes shut as I stop the thought in its tracks, unwilling to even entertain the notion. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to assess the situation calmly.

Della lies on her side, cradled in Darrow’s arms as he applies pressure to the wound.

“I’m fine,” she says through gritted teeth.

“That doesn’t look fine.” He nods to the arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

“It will be once you pull it out,” she snaps.

“Can you heal her?” I ask Darrow, praying he’s got some enchantment up his sleeve.

“I can stop the bleeding, but it will take time to fully heal.” He pulls a vial of white powder from his pocket.

“Do it,” Thorne orders from beside me. His warm hand against my back is an anchoring weight. “Quickly. I’ll need to lower the flames soon.”

“What?” Darrow squeaks, his head shaking back and forth. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“With all of us in here, we’re a flashing target,” he explains. “They have the numbers, so we need to draw them apart into smaller groups. And it will be much harder for the archers to get a clean shot if we’re mixed in with the Forsaken.”

“Besides,” Griffen says, pulling at his collar as a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face, “it’s getting warm in here.”

He’s not wrong, I think as I wipe the dampness from my forehead.

“How long can you hold the flames?” I ask, knowing that’s part of the reason he’s suggesting this plan. Controlling a fire this large must be eating through his energy at a rapid pace. If he keeps going for too long, he’ll burn himself out. I’m not sure how deep a God’s magic reserves are, but we still have a big fight ahead of us. With the graze on his leg and the shadows he’s using, he’s already pushing himself.

His shoulders tense as he meets my gaze. “Long enough.”

Darrow gets to work quickly. Della cries as he pulls the arrow from her flesh. The sound makes me want to vomit. Thankfully, her screams fade as he shakes the vial over her bloody shoulder, sprinkling the enchanted powder onto the wound.

“It should help to numb the pain,” he says gently, taking her hand in his.

Not for the first time, I wonder about the history between those two. While I don’t know if it’s romantic in nature, they definitely have some sort of connection.

I insist Thorne allows Darrow to sprinkle some of the powder over his wound too, which he’s not happy about. When he lifts up his pant leg and exposes the long, jagged gash, I’m filled with the deep urge to break something. My knuckles bleach white as I squeeze my fists tightly.

“Fia,” Thorne calls as Darrow finishes with his leg. “I need you to take out the archers.”

She nods, pushing her shoulders back as she accepts his order without argument.

“Find cover and try to get a shot,” he continues. “I’ll send the snakes to search the houses, but that means they won’t be with us to stop any arrows that make it through.”

“We’re running out of time,” Della gasps, her horrified gaze fixed a few yards away where several of the Forsaken are throwing themselves into the flames, creating a gap with their bodies.

“What are they doing?” Darrow grimaces.

I gulp down the nausea that rises in my throat. “Making a bridge.”

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