“You sure? The bleeding might make it worse,” Connell says.
“Just fucking do it! We need to get him up and to a healer.”
“If you say so, but I have to tell you, as something of an expert on death myself, he’s not going to recover.”
“Yes, he will. We didn’t survive decades in frozen fucking hell for him to die now.”
I’ve never appreciated Jett more; if only I could make myself sit up and tell him so.
Pain burns in my arm and I feel the blade I didn’t even realize was still there being extracted from my wrist.
“I’m not a good healer,” Jett mutters, “The great fucking irony is, Kastian is the only one I know who can use that kind of magic.”
“This is Hydratta, mate. You can’t swing a dead fish without hitting a healer, but I don’t know how much good it will do.”
“Fine,” Jett barks. His tone keeps rising, clearly growing angrier by the second. I’ve never heard him so upset, not even in prison. “If not a healer, then I’ll find a sorceress or a djinn or…something.” He trails off, grunting with effort as he seems to try to undo the binding around my ankles.
“You’d need more than a djinn for this. You’d need a miracle,” Connell grumbles.
“Then I’ll get a fucking miracle! I am not going to be the one who has to tell Odessa or Daemon that I let Kastian die. It’s not happening.” His voice changes, growing curious, and I get the feeling he’s looking over at Connell. “Wait, you’re immortal. That’s a damn miracle, right?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Jett’s tone is so dangerous that Connell must realize he’s on thin ice. He answers frankly, without any of his usual idiotic comments. “I’m immortal because I’m cursed to captainThe Sea Witch.”
“Sounds great!” Jett yells in exasperation. “How do we get another curse?”
If I could, I would go stiff. A curse doesn’t sound ideal, but then again, I know there aren’t a lot of options. I’m weak from blood loss and lack of food and water. That burning sedative has been building up for days, and I can tell I’m not breathing normally.
“It’s not that simple, mate,” Connell says.
“Can it be done or not?”
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Your friend might not thank you if he wakes up cursed. It’s not pleasant. I’m not even sure I’m really alive.”
“You look pretty fucking alive to me!” Jett nearly yells. “He can be pissed at me later once he’s alive again. How do you curse him?”
Connell doesn’t answer Jett. Instead, his voice grows louder, and I can feel him leaning over me. “Hey, can you hear me, mate?”
He pauses like he’s expecting me to answer him. My frustration rises, if I could just open my mouth… My entire body feels heavy and useless, and I can’t force my lips to move.
Like he can read my mind, Jett cuts in. “Kas, if you’re in there, blink.” His palm slaps my cheek—a gentle one, by his standards—and I work every last ounce of will to drag my eyelids up and down.
Jett’s exhale stutters, almost a laugh, but it’s broken at the edges. “He heard me!”
“That’s something, at least,” Connell mutters, sounding dubious. “I don’t feel right trapping a man into this without even asking.”
“Now you’re growing a conscience?” Jett asks, incredulous. “What about not feeling right about letting him die?”
“Alright, alright,” Connell grumbles, leaning close to me again. “Do you want to live? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”
I’m surprised to find that I have to think about that for a second. Of course I want to live, but not like this. The worst hell I can think of would be to not die, and just be trapped like this; aware, but unable to move or speak. Unable to do anything while Magnus keeps stabbing me and holds Odessa prisoner.
If I’m trapped like this for the rest of time, it would be a far worse curse than anything Connell could put on me. Nothing could be worse than this. If I’m doomed to be trapped on this table, just waiting to die, I’d rather end it now.
“Blink!” Jett shouts near my ear. He reaches out and lifts one of my eyelids for me, and I get a blurry glimpse of his face andthe ceiling beyond before he drops it closed again. “Come on, Kas. Dessa is here somewhere, and she needs you.”