Page 72 of Trapped By Claws
I started to bind up the wounds on his leg. He didn't even twitch his right leg. The smell of blood and salt water filled my nostrils. "How long?"
"I—I don't know—" He moistened his lips. His tongue had gone grey too. Almost like charcoal.
"Do you need food? Water?" I grabbed the wrapped oiled fish and the waterskin, thrusting it against him. The packet fell to the floor as the waterskin sloshed.
"If there's any chance of you getting through the portal, you need to start on that," he said, panting. "Don't…don't worry about me."
Don't worry about him? He was half dead already! How could I not worry about him? But what good did worrying do when we had so little time?
We only had the one light source left. I grabbed the oilcloth-wrapped book and removed it. The pages flipped open toward the back. Rifling through the pages, I searched for what I knew would help. Mama had made a map.
There was a map in here. A very bare one. But a map!
I scanned the page, then looked back at him. "Then it should be down this hall if Mama got it right." The map didn't actually show the access point we had taken. What if there were others? No, I needed to just focus.
"Take the light." He continued to press his hand against the wounds on his legs, his breathing ragged.
"I'm coming back for you." I kissed his forehead. His skin held only the barest traces of warmth, but he gripped my arm in response, nodded, then gave me a gentle shove.
"Go."
I staggered forward, steeled myself, then ran. I would come back.
The pale-blue orb nestled cold in my palm. I grabbed the journal and padded down the hall, scanning the doorways. Whole sections of marble had fallen away, some in pieces at the base and others smashed across the floor.
My footsteps and breaths echoed in the cold of this place. It seemed to stretch on and on without end.
There! The runes in the arched doorway matched the ones in the book.
I stepped inside, heart pounding. The doors had been shoved open and now sagged against the wall. Some great fight had happened here long ago. Dark streaks like dried blood stained the stone. Four corpses lay on the ground, their clothing tattered and rotted. Burnt-out torches lay by two. Chunks of rock and a shattered column littered the floor.
The staircase with its intricate carvings dominated the back of the room. Urns and braziers, long since empty, stood at intervals, with an especially large one at the top of the staircase before a broad platform.
The air now held a bite to it. Something like death and dust and lightning mixed together as one.
But it was here.
We had a chance. I shoved the book back into my pocket and ran.
Corvin was already struggling in my direction. He hugged the wall, dragging himself along. His right leg barely supported him, and he had to be moving simply on will. Blood dripped from the wounds. With hardly any light left in his eyes and his hair flat against his skull, he was unrecognizable.
Tagger squeaked and circled him. But even the otter's voice was softer now, as if he too was nearing despair.
Running to Corvin, I slid under his right arm and helped lift him up. His weight almost dropped me.
Just a little farther. The light from the orb cast flickering shadows on the wall, slashed by my fingers as I gripped it and struggled forward.
So close.
His ragged breaths barely warmed my skin as his head sagged against mine. His body was like ice, his pulse thready. Black veins raced up his neck and over his temples.
"You—you don't look good."
He shook his head. His attempt at a smile failed, his panting making it all the worse. "Looks worse than it is."
I scoffed. How much worse could it get before he died? "Yeah, well…" I gestured toward the archway, indicating where we were going to go. "You really—you look bad." My gaze dropped once more to his right hand. His whole hand had gone black, and dark liquid dripped from his claws. Could he even survive the last claw punching into his wrist?
"Just—think of it like going to sleep and restoring. If I get through, I'll be—I'll be reborn," he said, his voice shaking.
