“Lucius found them. We have to go—now.”
Debris littered the area. Chunks of bloody flesh and shattered trees were strewn about. The reality of what had happened continued to astonish me.
“There they are!” Luca pointed ahead, rushing toward a mound of shadowed figures. The explosion had thrown them several feet. Nico lay sprawled on the ground. Jase was sitting across from him, both of them covered in blood and gore. Fallon and Lu knelt beside Nico, trying to rouse his lifeless body, while Jase stared blankly, unmoving.
“Jase?” I called, hoping for any response.
He didn’t react, just sat silently, his face completely stoic, watching his family crowd around his lifeless brother. His shadows erratically dancing in and out of his shoulders like dark bolts of lightning.
“Jase, are you okay?” He was dripping with viscera.
He ignored my question, continuing to stare at Nico. “Is he—? I tried,” he said through panted breaths. “I tried to shield everyone. My shadows…”
Now it was making sense. We’d survived because of Jase. The icy blast I’d felt when the solric went off—it had been his shadows. I didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t acted so quickly.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching for his hand. “Are you hurt?”
“Forget about me!” he roared, pulling his hand from mine. “Help my brother.”
Nico lay motionless on the forest floor. Fallon and Lu were trying desperately to rouse him.
“Nico, wake up. Michaela’s here,” Lucius said, glancing at me. “He’s alive—unconscious, but he’s still with us.”
“How severe are his injuries?” I knelt beside him, trying not to panic. His left shoulder was definitely not where it was supposed to be. His shirt was torn exposing multiple lacerations. “There’s an awful lot of blood. Fallon, what do I do? Should I life-bind with him?”
“Maybe he’ll respond to your voice,” she said, placing Nico’s hand in mine.
“Nico,” I said, brushing the hair from his face. “I need you to wake up. You can’t leave me yet.” I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I love you. Come back to me.”
I felt his hand twitch. Then, faintly—“Michaela?”
“Nico!” Fallon gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks.
He tried to sit up, groaning in pain. Luca quickly placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Stay down. There’s been an explosion. You’ve been injured.”
“Michaela,” he called again.
“I’m right here.” I squeezed his hand.
“Are you okay?” he asked, trying once more to sit up.
“You need to stay down.” I gently pressed him back, careful to avoid his disfigured shoulder. “I’m okay—doing better than you,” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll get you straight to Maxfield.”
“We’re gonna need a place to recoup and treat our wounds. We can’t stay here. Whisperhold is gone.” Fallon was right—we needed somewhere safe.
“We’ll take shelter with the Raven’s Hand. Lucius, find help and fashion a stretcher for Nico,” Luca stepped up, immediately taking charge.
“I can walk,” Nico grunted.
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Your shoulder’s a right mess. You’ll rest while we sort out the details,” Luca commanded. “Jase, unless you’re injured, I need you to shake it off. We end this madness now—before we lose another brother. If Johan wants a war, we’ll give him one.”
Maxfield was already tendingto the wounded when we arrived at the Raven’s Hand’s camp. Several innocents had been severely injured in the attack. Guilt twisted in my gut. We’d been the target, and thanks to Jase we walked away with nothing more than a few relatively minor injuries.
Maxfield made quick work of Nico’s shoulder. The impact had dislocated it, and some large pieces of shrapnel had been lodged under his skin. A few yelps and a particularly pungent salve had him feeling almost back to normal.
Fiona helped settle us into a small but safe shelter. Four walls, a few chairs, and some bedrolls. A simple space for us to rest and lick our wounds. I was grateful we were all together. After everything we’d endured, the thought of being separated was unbearable.
Fallon sat alone in the far corner of the room, a brimshade cigarette pinched between her fingers. She looked detached, lost in thought, her face frighteningly stoic.
