Page 36 of Wrath's Call

But Ness wasn’t helpless. Bargaining on Acton’s ability to hold off the focused naga long enough for her to free Ryan she sprung, darting as quickly as possible to try to pull the spike free, a task proving harder than she must have anticipated. She tugged and pulled, her hands burning and sliding across the blood slicked spike, unable to get a good grasp. Giving up she reached down, pulling at the tail only to find the dissolving flesh even harder to hold as it blistered her skin. Ryan’s screams began to dim, his voice hoarse as patches of his skin began to blacken beneath the ooze that flowed from the lost limb.

Another loud hiss emerged, and all eyes locked on Acton, his arms swinging to deflect as much as he could, his shield clattering against those he couldn’t. His arms appeared tiring, the effort needed for the constant blows weakening his shields, until finally, it burst, one of the deadly venom laced blades slashing across his chest in one fluid sweep of movement.

But Ness's sudden scream drowned out any sound he may have made, her body laying limp against the ground. Even the naga seemed stunned, his focused attention on Acton shattering as Ness’ spell broke with her unconsciousness. The injured naga shot his head in her direction, a move that proved fatal as Acton used the last of his strength to swing his sword once more, severing the naga’s head from its body before he collapsed to the ground himself.

I didn’t wait to see what happened next. I shot to my feet, my eyes focused on my best friend who’s body was crumpled over the dead naga’s tail, the spike that had previously pinned Ryan to the ground impaled directly through her chest.

Chapter Fifteen - The Savior

Aeryn

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Where’s Ness?” my voice trembled, thick with the unkempt emotion of the moment.

Sister Cara didn’t even look up from the trembling mass of flesh before her, the sounds of blood and unmentionables striking the grates below as she responded.

“We need you to tend to Acton.”

“No.”

Sister Cara grabbed at a stack of bandages, pressing them down onto Ryan’s midsection as she worked, a team of healers surrounding her, hands aglow with white light. I could feel the temperature in the room plummeted as they drained the surrounding warmth to imbue the essences in their weaves - and I fought to keep the fleeting virtues I had in reserve from draining away into their fingertips. There was a desperation in their actions, drawing on their ties to heaven and hell to derive what energy they could.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I watched as the blood that ran grew darker as the moments passed on, fingers that were remarkably unscathed the perfect path for the rivulets that struck the floor as innocently as the first trickles of spring waters off gutters from the final winter snows.

“Penny is already with her.”

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“I’m better.” I didn’t give a fuck if I sounded conceited, I knew my skills and I knew my worth.

“Acton has a chance.”

Her assessment of Ness’s condition was left unsaid, but deafened nonetheless.

“I refuse to believe -”

“Every healer in this keep is roped in somewhere. We need you to take care of Acton.” it was a command, but the plea was there, her focus lost to the ailing body before her.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Once Acton is stabilized you can go to her.” I lifted dead eyes from the nearly charcoal black pool, thick and oozing down the grates in the floor. “But don’t hold hope. Ryan was in better shape.”

The sour stench and lingering energy that hung in the room like a shroud of mist told me all that I needed to know, the shallow breaths that rasped from Ryan’s lungs were the last he would ever take. Even for me, those injuries would be too much to heal - too much for my psyche to bear.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I could take the energy that seeped from his weakening body, bolstering the strength of my void for the healing to come. But it felt a betrayal, a line I couldn’t cross, much like robbing a grave. That had been his, created for him, by him, and soon it would be the only thing useful left of him. Better it remain free, so some small part of him could continue on.

Quietly I shut the door behind me, the dripping still loudly echoing through the chambers of my mind. I followed down the hall to where I’d watched the guards first bring Acton and opened the door, his pale body lying ashen on the gurney, his skin matching the bright white sheets upon which he lay. I approached, studying carefully every mark I could find. He was covered in superficial scratches, his cuts riddled with dirt but otherwise appeared simple. That gash on his chest however was another matter altogether.

Already it was beginning to putrefy, looking more like gangrene from the trenches of the Great War than the slice of a sword. The blood had dried, the toxin on the blades having cauterized the wound almost immediately, trapping the venom within the chest cavity. His lungs crackled and gurgled with every breath, and frothy dark green saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth. He blinked open unseeing eyes, the whites having turned yellow making the vibrant steely gray turn a pickled olive color, with dark black streaks running through the veins. Remarkable tears ran down his sunken cheeks, clear, crystalline and pure as a soft whimper left his mouth.

“Please.” his words were soft, fear as thick as the fluid in his throat. “I don’t want to die.”

I didn’t think he knew who was there, he wanted help, the last desperate prayer of a dying man.

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