“Of course.” The defensor straightened. “They wish only to discuss terms.”
Ben frowned. “Terms? They have conditions?”
The defensor shrugged. “They will explain.”
And he turned, making his way back down the long courtroom, passing the wounded on the pews and the people aiding them.
In his wake, Kari exhaled. She looked at Pierce. “Can your people watch for them? We’ll receive them in the courtyard.”
Pierce cut a wicked grin. “The site of the battle. Subtle.”
Kari lifted an eyebrow. “We don’t have time for subtlety.”
No. They certainly did not.
Ben stood, shoving his rolled-up sleeves higher. His legs took him by instinct toward a table at the side of the room, one overflowing with every piece of laboratory supply and botanical magic that had been found in the castle.
Lu was grinding Bright Mint in a mortar and pestle, asshe had been every moment since they had set up recovery here.
“Your army is coming,” Lu whispered to him without turning.
Ben stopped, his hand outstretched over some as yet unprepared Bright Mint flowers. When he didn’t respond, she gave him a tired look.
“This room echoes,” she said.
Ben moved his hand from the table to her arm.
A flare of light caught Ben’s eyes. The chandelier reflected light off a flash of blond where Gunnar tossed his hair out of his face, his arms burdened with rolls of cloth. He moved among the pews, letting those helping the wounded grab what they needed.
He felt Ben watching him. He looked up and smiled, the connection clearing a bit of the exhaustion in Ben’s mind.
Lu worked the pestle harder, faster.
Ben’s fingers tightened on her arm. “He hasn’t woken up yet?”
“No. Nayeli’s with him.” Faster, faster, the stone clanking on itself. “I’ve started making him tonics a dozen times. But more magic? I don’t know. I can’t risk—”
“He’ll be fine,” Ben offered, his voice pinched. He said it to her, and to himself, a constant stream of reassurances so he wouldn’t drown.Vex will be fine. He’ll wake up. He’ll be fine.“We’ve all been through more than we can bear. Likely his body is healing. He’ll wake up.”
Lu drew in a deep breath and nodded, but she kept grinding the Bright Mint, refusing to look at him.
Ben put his other arm around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
She stopped. The mortar dropped to the table with a heavy thunk and she leaned into him, staying there for one second, two, before she sniffed and pushed away.
“Here.” She handed him the mortar. Blue paste filled the stone bowl. “Should be three doses.”
Ben took the bowl, grateful to work. To do something.
He kissed her head again and made for the section of pews holding those who had not yet received the Bright Mint cure.
As he worked, offering doses to raiders with sunken eyes, his heart broke a little more. Remembering was just as horrible as not knowing. Remembering brought images of fighting and sometimes killing loved ones.
One raider resisted Ben’s last dose of Bright Mint, his face pressed into the corner of the pew. The man didn’t move, his hands over his head.
He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll come back. Don’t—”
“I’ll sit with him.”
