Page 278 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
Burning pain in his back had him silent save for the groan. A few more seconds and he gasped out, “Yes, but I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.”
“Depends who you ask, I’d wager.” The man’s accent—from the Nardens, he thought. It was hard to place with all the ringing in his ears. “What’s hurt?”
Clara smoothed the hair back from his brow. “The shadow being hit him with something. I don’t know how to…”
The blond man rummaged in a nearby pack. “Name’s Niels Metzinger, and I owe Kase a favor.” He pulled out bandages and a sewing kit. “I’ll get you stitched up for now, and later, you can have a real medic take a look.”
He fished out a flask and, without any preamble, splashed alcohol into the wound. Jove’s vision went white, and he bucked against the pain.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” said the man, not sounding too sorry whatsoever, “but you oughta be just fine once you stop bleeding everywhere.” The man rubbed some sort of cloth over the wound, and Jove nearly bit through his lip. ThisNielsclaimed he owed Kase a favor, but this felt more like someone exacting vengeance meant for his brother out on Jove’s flesh instead. Maybe he should have lied. “Not too deep, but enough to let you attend your own funeral if you can handle the pain.”
Despite the man’s odd assurances—at least, he thought they were supposed to be assurances—the damage felt like it went clean through his chest. The man handed him another cloth. “Bite down on this.”
Jove was almost insulted, sure he could’ve handled the pain, but then—ohstars and shocks, this was worse than breaking his arm across Harlan’s desk.
With each poke of the needle, Jove screamed into the cloth clenched between his teeth. Each jab sent a bolt of lightning throughout his entire body. Cold sweat gushed from his pores, but it did nothing to cool the jagged white fire pulsing from the stitching. Each pull-through and tightening of the thread was agony. His vision blanked again.
He must’ve passed out because the next thing he knew, the blond man—Niels—was gone, and Jove’s head rested in Clara’s lap. She stroked soaked hair at his temple, her fingertips both hot and cold at once.
“You’re awake,” she breathed.
The throbbing in his back promised him the pain wouldn’t fade for a long while. It wasn’t acute and all-consuming any longer, but any movement stretched the skin, creating a line of fire licking up his torso. He sucked in a breath and clenched his teeth.
“Love, you can rest for a while more. A few of the Yalvs are going around and helping those who are worse off. They’ll help move you when you’re ready,” she said softly. Jove looked up at her, dazedly marveling at the sunset glowing in her midnight eyes. Samuel was quiet.
Was it truly over? Had they been victorious? Or was this battle only a precursor of something even worse to come?
Jove forced himself to rise, and even with Clara’s help, the pain almost had him begging for a stiff drink. He ground his teeth until he was sitting up. Clara helped set his back against the cottage wall behind them. He gingerly tugged her under his arm and held her close to his uninjured side. Samuel squirmed, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he’d just survived.
If only Jove could be so carefree.
Maybe one day, he would be.
“I’ll need to help them soon. They need someone to lead them,” Jove said, his voice gruff from the trauma of the last few hours. “But for now, it’s good to be here with you.”
Chapter 53
SEVEN AND A HALF MINUTES
Hallie
IN THE BRIGHT LIGHT OF day, the Nether Gate’s opening was only visible by the dark Catacombs on the other side. The fiery outline that had nearly blinded her when she’d revealed it with Navara’s journal was almost nonexistent on this side. Ben’s hand still glowed from summoning it back into existence, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of Xera’s sword. It would be replaced once they were on the other side.
By the time she’d recovered enough to walk on her own, it’d been too dark to make the trip down the mountain even with the lights her and Ben’s power would’ve provided. There was nothing in the night to spirit away souls with Jagamot defeated. Hallie hoped it was enough to signal to Jack and her parents that everything was okay.
She, Kase, and Ben spent the night bathed in the light of the Chronal Gate and a larger Yreasa. She’d said her goodbyesto Navara, pressing a bit of her Essence power into the arch. She was rewarded with a pleasant pulse of warmth in her core.
Navara’s journals had gotten her here and allowed Jagamot to be defeated. The resentment she’d felt toward the woman for burdening her with the Essence power fell away. Their destinies had been intertwined, and without her, Hallie might have never gotten to see Jack again. It was bittersweet.
As the night went on, Ben and Kase—neither of whom seemed eager to sleep—entertained her with dozens of stories from their days as trainee pilots. The tales ranged from pulling pranks on other greenies to near-misses on missions to the full explanation of how they’d ended up with matching misshapen dragon tattoos.
They could have sat up all night trading jokes about hovers that flew straight over her head for all she cared. After the ordeal of the past few hours…days…months, really, it was just nice to sit tucked up next to Kase and laugh.
The dark cloud of the unknown that had hung over her head for so long dissipated with each inside joke and shared look.
When Ben fell asleep after making Kase swear he’d wake him in a few hours, the tone turned steeply somber as Hallie finally got the full story of why Kase had brought his father’s sword through the Nether Gate. She curled against his chest and held him through the worst of it. His world had flipped completely upside down, and the hits hadn’t stopped coming.
But she’d always seen Kase’s inner strength, and now, he could see it too.
