Page 25 of Blood and War
She hated that she cared about a stupid debt. Fuck the Horseman. Fuck the angels. Fuck the whole gods’ damned war.
A scream of frustration exploded as she finally balanced him atop Atlas, who jumped up with the poise and grace she wished she’d just displayed. The Horseman’s mount walked over then, snorting in her direction as he pawed the ground before her.
“I’m not going to hurt him.” She whispered, extending her hand toward him. The horse shook its head, turning away from her outstretched limb. He didn’t trust her.
The feeling ismutual.
Strapped to the saddle was her sword. Demitria had never been so happy to see an object in her life. Before the horse could flee, she lunged for it. Managing to snag the tip of its sheath and pulling it free before the horse took off, kicking up dust as it went. She strapped it around her body once more. Grateful to have it back, that feeling of safety washing over. She wasn’t safe, but she at least had a chance to protect herself now.
With his body as secure as she could manage behind her, they rode out. The positioning was awkward at best. Demitria had done her best to prop him, but his body hung eerily close for comfort, arms haphazardly draped around her waist in an effort to keep him from sliding off sideways. He’d stayed upright well enough, which could only mean he had to be semi aware and not fully unconscious like she’d originally thought. The warmth of him radiated through her in a deadly embrace that had her on edge. He was too close.
They rode back toward the canyon that had shielded them the night before. Praying to whatever gods were out there thatthe cave was still empty. Demitria glanced behind her, watching for a brief moment as his mount followed behind in the distance. She doubted it would enter the cave with her, and hoped the beast would survive on its own.
When the canyon stood tall above them, the sigh of relief rushed through her parted lips. She hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary and took it as a good sign. As they neared the mouth of the cave, she dismounted. Gently settling the Horseman along Atlas’s back before leading him the remainder of the way on foot. Hesitating for only a moment before crossing the threshold.
“You should come in.” Demitria called out to the horse several feet away. Rearing up on its back legs, the stallion snorted, shaking his head in displeasure. “It’ll be safer inside. I promise to give you your space.” She beckoned it over, hand outstretched, but it didn’t move toward her. “If you change your mind, we’ll be waiting.” With a sigh she went deeper.
Near the remains of the fire, Atlas curled his legs beneath him as he settled his body on the ground. Demitria slowly pulled the Horseman off and settled him against the smooth side of a stalagmite.
“Kellan, you need to wake up.” Gripping him by the shoulders, she shook him. Sweat beaded along his brow. “Wake up.” Her eyes travelled the cave as shadows seemed to dance along the wall. Reminding herself they were nothing more than that, she shook him again. At his groan, she stepped back. Inky veins snaked paths down his cheeks. From his eyes. The color of his face pallid. Nothing of the sun-kissed skin remained.
“Kellan.” She repeated, but the only thing that moved was the rise and fall of his chest in an irregular pattern.
Every bone in her body told her to leave him. To let him die in this cave where no one would be the wiser. She took a tentative step backward, toward the mouth of the cave before her feetstopped. If she left him, would that make her no better than they were?
“Fuck.” She cursed, running a shaking hand down her face in frustration. She was better than this. Despite her hatred for beings like him,she was better.
A life for a life.
Letting another heavy sigh pass through her lips, Demitria stepped up to the Horseman. Deft fingers worked the buckles of his armor as she peeled it from his chest and discarded it beside him before painstakingly stripping the shirt from his body, her muscles straining against his dead weight. The fabric clung to the wound, ripping it as another wave of the inky blood oozed from the gaping hole in his chest. Her breath caught. So much worse than she thought it was. Rimmed in black, the same dark veins snaked across his torso, thick as shewatchedthe poison coursing through his body. As each vein darkened to that same color as it passed through his bloodstream. A thin sheen of sweat covered his upper body, his skin hot to the touch.
Demitria gently touched a finger to the wound, pulling it away and testing the blood between her fingers. Thick. Wrong.
“Shit.”
She didn’t know if she could help him. Didn’t know if there was anything she could truly do to change his fate. But he’d saved her, nonetheless, and she had to try to save him.
Pulling the hood on her head, she exited the cavern on foot, leaving Atlas with the unconscious Horseman. The only plant she would find would be yarrow. Kellan had found it somewhere seemingly not too far off, and she was confident she’d be able to do the same. Her feet carried her down the winding trail in the canyon. Around a tight bend they hadn’t gone through the last time, but she pushed on for another few minutes before the grayish-white flowers came into view. Picking enough sprigs to last the night, she returned to the cave. In her absence, Kellan’smount had entered and was resting quietly with Atlas along the back wall.
Demitria rinsed the plant in the steady drip of water off the stalactite before finding herself in front of the Horseman, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He’d told her how his own people had used the plant, and she did the same. Taking pieces into her mouth as she chewed the leaves, the sweet yet bitter flavor filled her mouth. She worked it for a few moments before spitting it into her palm and crouching before him, packing it into the wound as best she could. Kellan didn’t flinch as she worked.
When she was finished, she took a step back and took him in. The muscled planes of his chest. The body that looked so much like her own people’s, and the thin, silver scarring that seemed to mar so much of his skin.
“Shit.” Demitria cursed herself, running a hand down her face once more as she pulled herself from the Horseman.
She stared longer than she should have.
By the time the sun rose the next morning, Demitria had changed out the makeshift poultice four times. Each time the green leaves turned the same thick, inky color of his blood.
“Kellan.” She spoke, her hand gripped firmly to his broad shoulder as she shook him. The Horseman shuddered, but made no other movement. The darkening veins nearly covered his entire body now, the wound to his chest even more gruesome than before as the sides of his flesh had turned black around it, oozing that thick substance that she could only assume was toxins from the demon. Every part of her wanted to tremble at the thought of it, her hands shaking.
She needed to leave before it came back. Or before Kellan died.
Demitria paced back and forth within the cave as she decided on her course of action, warring with the thought of still leavinghim to die. Doing that would make her no better than the rest of the creatures. Cruel.She wasn’t that. No matter how much she hated them, she couldn’t leave him like this to suffer. She contemplated ending his life. Putting him out of his misery wouldn’t get her anywhere, either. She wouldn’t be able to return to Solis as if nothing happened. The angel… the demon, had said something was after her. Multiple beings, in fact, and she still didn’t know what that meant. If she returned now, without any answers as to what was going on, Demitria was sure Solis would fall.
But if he got whatever answers he was after, maybe she could survive and one day return to her home. To Jace. So, Kellan needed to live.
Demitria only knew one way to do that.
