Page 48 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

What is wrong with me?

I survived a lightning attack, successfully used my curse to protect myself, and all I’m thinking about are his hands on my body?

I clear my throat.

“I’m fine, I promise. Maybe you could just help me up?”

He takes a deep breath before releasing it in a frustrated huff.

“Alright. If you insist.” His grasp is firm and steady, his palm rough and calloused. The world around me makes a slow turn when I rise, and I steady myself against Kyronos's arm before I face-plant into his chest.

Once I’m sure I’m steady, I take a few steps, clenching my teeth to keep from wincing. My muscles are not happy, not happy at all.

I use the movement to put some distance between us. That I still sense his magic freaks me out, but the sensation lessens a bit with distance.

“See, I’m fine.” My voice is hoarse but steady.

“But how?” He sounds incredulous. The shock of seeing me walk away after being grilled by lightning seems to have overpowered the anger I sensed before. Shit, that’s the part I haven’t thought through.

How much has he seen? How long have I been exposed to the magic? Where is the attacker?

My gaze flies to the darkness around us. Now that my eyes have adjusted, the moonlight is enough to make out shapes. Is one of them moving? Tate seems to guess where my sudden distress is coming from.

“He’s dead,” he reassures me.

“Are you sure?” It’s a stupid question. I doubt he would say it otherwise. The white of his teeth flashes in the dark when he grins. My stomach flips, and I regret that I can’t see his face more clearly.

“You want to check for yourself?” He’s probably mocking me. But I take the chance it provides to get out of answering questions I can’t.

“Yes, please.” He chokes back a laugh.

“Sure, doubt my abilities to kill a man, why don’t you?” He snorts. “Let’s go. I need to search him anyway.” He sounds like he’s humoring me, which seems out of character.

He probably thinks the lightning addled my brain.

Kyronos walks slowly, staying next to me. I’m sure he expects me to fall over, but I don’t, even if it’s mainly pride holding me upright. Gods, I’m tired.

My muscles hurt, but it gets better with movement. By the time we stop again, it’s more like a severe case of sore muscles—not unlike what I’m used to after heavy drills the day before.

Jared Venti stands next to a motionless figure on the ground, guarding it.

There is no movement, at least as far as I can see. Kyronos squats down, lays out something next to the body, and starts rummaging through the pockets of the person's long coat.

I lower myself next to him, much less gracefully.

Light hair and a short beard frame a very pale face that sticks out against the darkness surrounding it.

“Have you seen him before?” Venti asks.

“No,” Kyronos and I answer simultaneously.

“You think he’s connected to the attack?” Venti goes on, and I have a feeling he would say more if I weren’t around.

“What else? Coincidence?” Kyronos snorts. “Not likely.”

“If they—”

“Let’s not waste time on theories.” Kyronos cuts him off.

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