Page 68 of Hollowed
Despitehow he got there,Alexanderlooked calm before me.Theusual intensity that burned through his face was now smooth with unconsciousness.
Acrow cawed in the distance, pulling a flinch from my body that turned into a wince as my arm jolted.Afterlooking around for signs ofDeath,Iturned my gaze toAlexanderwhileIkept my injured arm tucked against my chest.Sighing,Islipped his head from my lap and stood.
Iknew it would be a challenge to get him into the house, but we needed to get inside.Thedoor was yards away, but it felt like miles with how heavyAlexanderfelt when leaning against me.Therewas no wayIcould get him inside by myself, butIalso could not leave him here.
IknewIwould need to use both arms to pull him inside.Withmy right hand,Isucked in a breath asIpoked at the injured joint, probing the skin and muscle.Thejoint was certainly not in the right place; the abnormal lump at the front of my shoulder proved that.Ihad read about this injury before, in a book of medicine thatHenryhad left out on his desk one day.
Takinghold of the wrist of the injured arm,Ifocused on inhaling deep breaths, one, and then another, and another.Closingmy eyes,Itook one more breath and held it, blowing it out harshly asIpulled on my wrist and yanked the arm out and up.
Fireburned through my entire arm, andIcried out, loudly panting until the pain faded.Gingerly,Itested the arm, moving it slightly.Inearly cried out again, this time in relief, as the pain was only a dull ache instead of the stabbing white-hot pain it had been.
Icould do this.
Bending,Ilooped my hands beneathAlexander’sarmpits.Flexingmy core and bending my legs,Ipushed my feet into the earth, pulling him up and dragging him toward the house.Painradiated out from my arm, butIcontinued my path.
Finally, after what felt like hours,IdepositedAlexanderonto the bed in whatIassumed was his room.Droppinghis torso first and then bending to pull his legs to follow.
“Katr… na,”Alexandermumbled, his eyes staying closed.
Sweatpoured down my back and face, trickling in rivulets down my forehead and neck.Wipingit away with the back of my good hand,Ibent down beside him, cradling my left arm to my chest. “Whatis it,Alexander?”
“Alone… blazing bright,” he said. “Pureflame.”
“What?”Iquestioned, leaning closer to his face with my left ear. “Horseman, are you with me?”
Hedidn’t reply, his head slumping to the side once more.
Pattinghis cheek until his eyes opened again,Ifound the blue darker than before. “Horseman.Whatare you saying?Canyou hear me?”
“Katrina,” he said, smiling slightly. “Yousaved me.You’rebeautiful.Mybright fire.”
Mycheeks heated at his words.Irested my hand on his forehead, finding it clammy with sweat. “Rest,Alexander.”
“Spiritmagic.”Hisvoice was weak, trailing off before he could finish. “Sucha price.”
Ashis eyes closed once more,Istood, taking a deep breath.Ofcourse, his magic had taken a toll on him.He’dbeen using it constantly to disguise me and then to find me.Evenmy body was fading, eyelids heavy.
Istopped at the foot of the bed, debating on taking off his boots so he would be more comfortable.Thetwinge in my shoulder declared he could sleep in discomfort.
Movingto the roomI’dslept in previously,Itoed off my own boots and lay down on the bed.Thetension bled from my body as my eyes slid shut and my breathing evened.
MaybeIwould just rest for a moment.
Thirty-Two
Visionsof flame and blood startled me awake, the images seared into my eyelids as my chest heaved.Sittingup in the small bed,Ipressed my palms into my eyes, pushing until bursting stars filled the darkness behind my eyes instead of rivers of blood and fire.
Mybreath finally slowing,Istood, moving to the window to pull open the curtains.I’dslept longer thanI’dintended, the gray of the coming dawn lightening the sky above the trees surrounding the cottage.Fromhere,Iwatched the wind rustle the trees, picking up the autumn leaves and swirling them like a ribbon of flame around the ground.
Focusedon the leaves dancing around the tree trunks, the sudden blur of darkness that filled the windowpane sent me stumbling backward.Therein front of me, lighting on the small windowsill, was a crow.Theinky black pools of its eyes focused intently on me, its head tilting back and forth as it studied me.
Unbidden, my feet carried me closer to the window, despite every instinct screaming at me to draw the curtains and run from the strange stare of the creature.Butsomething held me there, pulling me closer as if entranced by its unblinking eyes.
Itsat there, watching me asIplaced my palm on the window.Thecold of the glass was sharp against my skin.
Click.Click.Click.
Thebird tapped its beak against the glass where my palm rested.Itpecked once more and pulled back, its jerky head tilting one way and then the other.Itblinked once, twice, three times.Andthen, as if it were an entirely different bird, it tipped its head back and opened its maw, screeching.