“Trevelyan. Garin,” he bit reluctantly.
“Trevelyan,” Na crooned the name as if inhaling it, and the sound of it on her tongue jabbed a distant spike of jealousy in Lilac’s chest.
“You’re sure?” Feiyan sounded taken aback.
“Yes,” said Garin roughly. “To ensure something like this doesn’t happen a second time. So no one else falls victim to a carriage accident or worse over a ten-shilling vendetta.”
There was shuffling near her again, to her left. “May I?” Feiyan said.
Garin was silent but remained by her side as she approached.
Then, a light pressure upon Lilac’s abdomen. Two palms and a dull ache. They moved outward, reaching her ribs and causing her to wince.
“Well?”
“Her ribcage is shattered. Part of her spine as well. The type of spell I can do to mend her bones is not the same,” Feiyan said, her hands moving down Lilac’s abdomen, “as the tonic we’d give to stop her bleeding. I don’t have one on me, but either way, those together will corrode her body. Mortals are not meant to sustain such amounts of arcana.”
Fear spread slowly like molasses through Lilac’s veins.
“And the warlock?” Garin asked, on the brink of hysteria.
“We don’t have time,” Adelaide said softly.
“She’s right. And that much magic in the queen’s body might kill her anyway, with how weak she is. Myrddin is powerful, but not specialized in medicine.”
“But,” added Na, sounding amused, “your vitae would heal her tissues and bleeding quickly, with almost no consequence at all.”
Garin’s laugh was scathing. “No consequence?”
Gentle hands brushed the hair off her forehead, smelling of anise and satsumas. “Na is right. Sanguine magic is different, not as abrasive as general arcana. It deals specifically with the soft tissues of the body—the mind, vessels, and arteries of a mortal. It would not affect her bones, would not overwhelm her with magic. I can heal her spine and ribs, but it will do nothing for her internal injuries. Bone mending magic is hard enough on a healthy mortal body, with no other affliction. Your queen is hemorrhaging, vampire.”
“Yes, and this is your doing.”
Na made an angry sound of protest. “We pursued you as we tracked our warlock, but I shot the second arrow trying to help. There was a human man traveling on horseback ahead of you, coming from the opposite direction. It was he who was not paying attention.”
Garin and Adelaide were silent, and there was a sudden burst of warm wind—sunlight and breeze danced across her skin, warm and golden behind her closed eyelids.
Their mist—likely some sort of ward—had dissipated.
“See?” said Na. “He was on the wrong side of the path. He could havecrashed into anyone. Just be thankful it was you and that no one else in your troupe was harmed.”
Suddenly, Garin’s fingers slid under her, hands prying between her rigid body and the ground. She exhaled, bracing herself as she rolled against Garin’s chest, the pain excruciating. This was not a torment she could ignore. She breathed through a whimper, tears leaking from her eyes. She wished for it to be over and remain in his arms, cradled like this.
Despite Adelaide’s protests, Garin lifted her carefully, and Lilac rose until she could tell he was standing.
“Garin,” Adelaide said in warning.
“Not harmed?” His anger was palpable, she could feel it radiating off him. “Her spine is broken. You killed our warlock and coachman.”
“Only your warlock. The driver still lives,” said Na. “As does your precious queen. It did not escape us thatyouhad a tracking spell of your very own. Why were you seeking us in the first place?”
He answered with some effort. “There is a chest you carry. Kestrel, of the Court of the Valley, wanted her to retrieve it from you.”
There was a noise of recognition. Theguàisaid nothing when there were footsteps, the sound of someone walking away.
“I’ll do it,” Garin called out disbelievingly. “Heal her spine. I’ll do the rest. Just tell me what I owe you.”
The creaking and slamming of a wooden door—that of their carriage.