I run out of the room, try to find the kitchen in the modest home. Kellyn is right beside me.
“I’m sure she’ll be all right. Here, let me.” He tries to take the kettle from me.
“Go make sure Petrik doesn’t let Kymora go. I can do this on my own.”
“He’s no more safe with her running free than we are. He won’t do anything stupid.”
That may be, but I don’t want him around right now. I can’t bear the attention when I’m doing everything I can to keep myself together.
I strike up a fire as I talk. The wait for the water to boil might just kill me. “Please, go to Petrik. I’ve got this.”
Kellyn stands there for a few seconds longer before leaving.
* * *
I thought I’d already experienced the worst thing that would ever happen to me. Seeing Temra injured so severely was horrible, but having to hold down my baby sister while the healer cauterizes the wound is much worse.
Feeling her fight against me, hearing her screams, knowing I’m helping to cause it.
It breaks me.
Temra loses consciousness after it’s done, the medicine the healer administered finally kicking in, and I hold her to me, wrapping her in my arms while the wound at her side is stitched up.
* * *
The first thing I note when I’m fully awake is that I don’t feel sticky with blood anymore.
I’m in a fresh shirt and pants. My body has been wiped clean of all blood and sweat. But I still feel dirty in a way I can’t place at first.
Then I remember.
I killed people yesterday. Kymora hurt my sister. I hurt inside. Every part of me that feels aches.
When I twist my head to the side, I see Kellyn kneeling on the floor, his head slumped on the bed beside me, propped up in his arms.
His eyes rise sleepily when I prod him.
“Temra?” I ask.
“She’s all right. She’s sleeping next door.”
“Kymora?”
“Bound and kept in my parents’ garden shed. They know everything now.”
I rise slowly, my muscles straining just with that simple task. “Take me to my sister.”
I follow him down the little hallway to the room next door. Inside, the healer is in a rocking chair, dozing. Petrik is out on the floor. My sister looks clean and fresh on the bed, her arm and side bound heavily.
Ignoring the hand Kellyn tries to touch me with, I go to Temra, slide into the bed next to her. I let my hand brush over her hair, kiss the back of her head, push myself against her until I can feel her heat. Feel that she’s alive and all right.
Both Petrik and the healer rouse when they hear my crying.
“She’s alive,” I say. The healer had said something about surviving the first night being crucial.
“I’m keeping her unconscious,” the healer says, “because the pain will be unbearable right now, and if she fidgets about, she could start bleeding again.”
“That’s good,” Petrik says before I can. He stands up to the bed, looking down into Temra’s face.
“You should prepare yourselves.”
We turn to the healer at the same time a horrible cough shakes Temra’s entire body. Blood slides out the side of her mouth. I dab it away with the sleeve of my shirt.
“Wh-what do you mean?” I ask. “She survived the night.”
“I didn’t expect her to,” the healer admits. “She lost a lot of blood, and her wounds were more severe than I originally thought. While I’ve stitched up her side, the sword nicked the lung. Blood is trickling in. She will continue to cough it up.” A pause. “It’s not a wound that will heal, and there is nothing more I can do for her, except to make her comfortable. She doesn’t have longer than a week.”
“What?”
“I can wake her when you’re ready to say your goodbyes.”
“N-no! You’re wrong. She’s fine. She’ll live. She’s stronger than anyone I know.”
“I’ll leave you all alone to talk.”
The older woman exits, shutting the four of us inside the bedroom.
I think I might be shaking. I think I might lose control of my limbs and collapse or rage or do something else. But I know that everything is wrong, and Temra is here and alive but it doesn’t feel like she is.
Petrik stares at the door where the healer left before turning back around. He takes Temra’s free hand and rubs a thumb over her knuckles.
“We need to talk about what to do with Kymora,” Kellyn says.
“You can hang her for all I care,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about Kymora. Temra is hurt, and we need to do something.”
“Ziva, there’s nothing to be done.”
“What do you know? You’re no expert in medicine, and that old woman is a hack. We need to find someone else. Take her to someone better.”
“Ziva, she’d never survive a journey.”
“Then we’ll bring someone to her.”
“Ziva—”
“Stop saying my name like that!”
I’m being unfair. I know this. But I hurt, and I want everyone else to hurt, too.
“I’ve misled you all,” Petrik says quietly.
“We know you did,” Kellyn says. “Hard to miss what with the warlord—”
“No,” Petrik corrects. “I mean yes. I obviously didn’t tell you who I really was. But I was referring to something else.”
“There’s more!” Kellyn says. “You’ve got some nerve.”
Petrik ignores him. “When you asked me about other magic users, Ziva, I was careful with my words. I let you believe that I only knew of two, but that’s not true. I know someone who can save Temra.”
I blink away my tears to try to see Petrik’s face.
“Back in Skiro,” he continues, “there’s a magically gifted healer. I promised her I wouldn’t reveal her identity to anyone. But this is Temra. We need to take her to the capital immediately.”
“She’d never survive the journey,” Kellyn says. “It’s too far, and the road is rough.”
For just once can he be helpful and positive? Just this one time when it’s concerning my Temra?
“Let’s go,” I say. “Why are we still talking about it? If there’s a chance to save her, then we’re taking it.”
“We’re not leaving Kymora alone with my family,” Kellyn says, and though he doesn’t raise his voice, his tone is firm.
“You’ll stay with her,” I say, “while Petrik and I take Temra.”
“No, he should come with us,” Petrik says. “He can bring Kymora. We’ll turn her over to Prince Skiro. The royal family has been wanting to pull her from power since the realm was split.”
I don’t hide the distaste from my face.
“Kellyn will protect us on the road as well,” Petrik says in his defense, “now that—”
Now that Temra can’t do it.
“Fine, he can come. We leave within the hour.”
* * *
Petrik tries to offer up apologies while we get ready, but I silence him. “You came through when it mattered. That’s good enough for me. Quick thinking to put the tools in the smithy’s kiln for me.”
“I never betrayed you,” he says. “I hope you know that. I wasn’t in contact with my mother. We’re not close at all. I never gave her any information about you or your sister. I would never do that.”
“I know.”
While he collects food and supplies, the healer offers up the use of her cart. Though I know she believes we can’t save my sister, she takes pity on me.
The cart itself is wood, but the wheels and axle are metal. I magic both to help Temra have a smooth journey on the road. Let the wheels absorb any bumps.
We help ourselves to the smithy’s horses. He doesn’t need them anymore, and we attach two to the head of the cart, lie Temra bundled in blankets in the back.
Then the healer hands me a vial. “This will keep her under while you’re on the road. You have to administer it every day. Give her too much, and you will kill her; not enough and she will wake and be in agony and maybe become injured further.”
She gives me the dosage, and I accept the vial wordlessly.
Kellyn ties Kymora to the other side of the uncovered cart. She’s bound with what looks like no less than a hundred ropes, from her neck to her ankles. A gag keeps her from talking.
When he has her situated, I look away from the woman while we make our way to the edge of town. The three of us sit on the driver’s bench in silence.