Page 112 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
‘It’s not your fault,’ Drue said, pulling Talemir up into a sitting position, resting against her. ‘He hated what he was so much that he poisoned himself with the damn tonic.’
Wilder scrambled to his feet. ‘I’ll find a healer.’
Drue shook her head and pointed to Adrienne’s tent. ‘Get Gus.’
‘Gus? The boy?’
‘Yes.’
Thankfully, Wilder asked no more questions, and darted away.
Drue pressed her brow to Talemir’s, finding him clammy. ‘You damn fool.’ She placed the flat of her hand on his chest, noting that his heartbeat was terrifyingly slow. ‘You already left me once. Gods, I’ll kill you myself if you do it again…’
But Talemir showed no sign of hearing her.
His eyes moved rapidly under the lids, his mouth parting in a cry of pain.
Whatever he faced now were his own monsters.
Gus came running towards her clumsily, his wings flapping almost comically. Wilder and Adrienne followed close behind.
‘Is this him? Is this the Warsword–wraith?’ Gus asked, full of awe.
‘Yes.’ Drue clutched Talemir to her chest. ‘And we called for your help.’
‘How?’
‘You have to tell me, Gus… How is it that you are you? And the others fell to the darkness? How —’
Gus panicked. ‘I don’t know!’
‘Think,’ she commanded. ‘What was different about them? About you?’
‘I don’t —’
‘Try,’ she begged.
‘I was younger than most of them…?’
‘What else?’
The tips of Gus’ ears turned pink. ‘I… I didn’t fight,’ he said, embarrassed.
‘Why not?’
‘I… I liked them.’
‘Liked who?’
‘Not who. What! My wings. I liked them. I know they’re like a monster’s, but… but they’re strong! I might be able to fly. Is that so bad?’ he asked, his gaze imploring her to understand.
‘No…’ she breathed, a small piece of the puzzle falling into place.
‘I’ll get the healer,’ Adrienne interjected, her voice hoarse.
‘We are past that.’ Drue leant in, so her nose brushed Talemir’s cheek. ‘You have to change forms, Warsword,’ she whispered. ‘I think the only way to beat this… The only way to survive, to fight the poison… Is in your strongest form —’
A soft moan of pain escaped the Warsword’s lips.
