Page 137 of The Second Death of Locke
Leonie was alone in the room with her, sorting medication on a table someone must’ve dragged in from Grey’s private sitting room. She ran her fingers over one of the pestles and asked, “Are you in pain?”
“Manageable,” Grey lied. “Water?”
Leonie was there in an instant with a glass, one hand behind Grey’s back to help her up, the other holding the glass so she could drink. Grey sipped greedily, spilling half of it down her shirt and barely caring. When she was finished, Leonie brought her another glass and set it on the nightstand, before sinking into the chair by Grey’s bedside. “The commander is going to be furious he wasn’t here when you woke,” she said, brushing the hair away from Grey’s forehead. Grey could see the end of her own braid draped over her chest; she was unsurprised to see bits of gore and mud in the brown strands.
“Where is he?” she asked hoarsely. Leonie leaned forward to adjust her pillows, helping her sit more comfortably.
“Dainridge sent for him. It couldn’t wait.”
Grey nodded, the press of too many questions on her tongue. She remembered herself floating, untethered from her body—she felt the sum of all those souls. “I took the power away,” she said slowly. “Didn’t I?”
Leonie hesitated.
“If you don’t answer, I’ll ask Kier, and I’m certainhewill.”
“Then yes. You took the power away. From all of Eprain and Luthar, it looks like.”
Grey nodded, chewing her lip.
“And they still don’t have it back.”
She pressed a hand to her middle, where the stomach ache throbbed. “Right.”
“Can you…?”
She shot Leonie a look. “Yes,” she said, feeling the weight, and the phantom tethers leading to the owners of the power she now held. “But this is something that I only want to do once, and as such, I wouldlikeit to be an effective threat.”
Leonie nodded slowly. “That is…”
“Ruthless,” Grey said.
“But sensible.”
“Perhaps.” She glanced at Leonie, remembering the stress radiating off her in battle. “But… we won.”
“Yes,” Leonie said. She set down the tincture she was mixing—probably something awful she was going to force Grey to drink sooner rather than later. “The Isle was defended. And because of the total loss of power and magic with it, there have been appeals for peace. For treaties.”
Grey couldn’t begin to think of peace or treaties. She couldn’t think of anything past the next few seconds. She let her eyes slip shut for only a moment, but she couldn’t be sure it was actually a moment when she opened them again. “And the damage?”
“We lost two thousand of our ten thousand. Eprain and Luthar lost four and a half, but they sent more, and Cleoc’s navy did major damage in the bay.”
So many lives lost, all because of her. She could not focus on that—if she did, she would lose it, and she could not afford to do that rightnow. “And… Scaelas? Our allies? My friends?”
“I hear Cleoc and her attendants had a lovely afternoon,” Leonie said wryly. “Eron is fine—he’s with Kier. Scaelas is injured, but he will live. He has threatened to stay with you until he is healed, though, and teach you how to act like a noble.”
Grey winced. He must’ve heard that she’d joined the battle—but he was still not her father. “A fine threat indeed,” she said.
“Brit is fine. Ola is…” Leonie hesitated, and Grey saw the flicker of uncertainty—her stomach seized at the thought. In an awful moment, she remembered that grasp of pain, when she was out of herself, but then… “She’ll live, if I have anything to say about it,” Leonie said finally, seeing Grey’s look. “She will lose the arm.”
“Ah.” But she was alive. She was alive, and she would live. As soon as she was able to stand, Grey would find her, even if she had to fight Kier and Leonie both to do it. “And our commanders?”
“Dainridge sustained minor injuries. Commander Reggin perished protecting the harbor.”
Grey closed her eyes. “And his Hand?”
“Living, last I knew.”
“And Seward is fine,” Kier said, coming in, nodding to Leonie with some coldness—he still had not quite forgotten that she knew of his death, Grey realized. “Though heisannoyed, as he gave direct orders to be sent for immediately if Locke woke in his absence.”
