“Perhaps you will consider your decisions more closely before you kill someone, then,” Adrina said, her own voice rising, but she looked away from Migo, focusing instead on Katsi. “Get the amplifiers off.” She snapped at one of the shamans who’d come with her. “Tebane, see to Katsi’s wounds. Daraden, take these refugees to the infirmary. And you, Emperor Rikaydian, appear to be wounded. Are your injuries severe?”
Migo followed Adrina’s eyes, looking down at his side where he’d apparently bled through his shirt. He threw open his robe. The cut ran across his ribs. He could have sworn it was feeling better earlier. Maybe his body healed more while he was Ashjagar. “That’s deeper than I recall,” Migo said. The pain was minimal. It should have hurt more than it did, but his body seemed to have lost sensitivity with all the pain he’d experienced recently.
“You should follow the refugees to the infirmary,” Adrina said. “Daraden and the resident physician should be able to help with that.”
Migo looked to Katsi. He didn’t want to be anywhere without her. She met his gaze, holding three of the rings in her trembling hand. “I will go with them as well,” Katsi said.
They kept their eyes locked as they followed Daraden through the halls.
Katsi’s power was indeed remarkable. She was able to strike down at least twelve waheshi with a single attack. It was the same attack that seemed to have drained her, but he had no doubt that if she had greater control of her power, she wouldn’t have needed to use so much energy. With more experience, perhaps she’d be able to withstand an entire army on her own. It was the kind of power they needed.
But they didn’t have time. Every city would fall if she wasn’t able to control her power. And at what cost? If they had stayed in Wanay and continued to fight, she very well could have died, burned out by her own power. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice her to save a city. Her life meant more than the thousands that had died in Wanay.
“What of the other seers?” Migo asked, cheeks warm as he looked away from Katsi. “Were any other issues reported?”
“Nothing yet, thankfully,” Adrina said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Is somebody stationed to watch the orbs?”
“We are not soldiers to follow about orders and hold posts, Your Excellency,” Adrina said.
“Of course not,” Migo said, looking to the one servant who actually walked with them. “See if you can track down Officer Suresh Edanel and have him report to me immediately.”
The servant glanced at Adrina before dipping his head and dashing off with muttered acknowledgement. At least there was somebody around here that he could give orders to. It made him wish he could at least have Falshon, Emil, or Rivar around. It helped to have people who understood the need to be on the same page as each other.
As soon as they reached the infirmary, which was really just a sizeable room with four cots and stacks of drawers, Daraden ran to a drawer and started issuing commands to two attendants. The physician was probably still on the way. Adrina and Tebane helped Katsi remove her rings and armlets. After removing the jewelry, Migo watched closely as Tebane held his hands just over the surface of Katsi’s skin. He’d seen bleeder magic heal already, something he never would have thought possible, but it was still amazing to watch as her skin started to restore right before his eyes. It was still red, but at least the open sores were disappearing.
Katsi’s eyes widened as she watched the magic at work. She must’ve not known magic could heal so easily. His mind went straight back to the cave when she’d first saved his life. He’d been laying there for several cycles while his body healed, thanks to her potions. To think that he could have healed so much faster with the use of bleeder magic was still unfathomable.
“This is for you, Your Excellency,” Daraden said, holding up a short, wide-rimmed glass bottle after removing its lid.
“What’s that?” Migo asked.
“A salve,” Daraden said. “It’s a potion, though I’m not sure how effective it will be given your resilience to magic.”
“Such things have helped before,” Migo said, his eyes again returning to Katsi as he completely removed his coat, standing bare-chested before Daraden.
Katsi shamelessly glanced across at him, her eyes tracing a line up to his own before darting away.
The three Wanay refugees were shuffled to the back of the room together, and even Lady Vasash practically stared at him unabashedly. Was his wound really so serious to draw such attention?
He took the bottle from Daraden and scooped out some of the goopy salve, applying it to the wound.
“Migo, you didn’t clean it off first,” Katsi said with a shake of her head, Tebane’s hand still hovering over her skin as he healed her. Migo could almost see the tendrils of magic at work, like vague hints of wavering smoke, blurring the air the same way heat did when reflected off a surface.
“I’m sure it will still work just fine,” Migo said. There was a single burn line across her neck where she’d worn the only necklace amongst all the enhancement artifacts. The burn touched right across her clavicles to either side and the memory of his finger touching her skin while they’d flown to Mazanib burned in his mind. His cheeks warmed, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away.
An attendant cleared her throat as she stopped in front of Migo. “Ahem. Your Excellency.” She held up a wet cloth after casting a quick, nervous glance in Katsi’s direction.
Migo nodded, allowing the attendant to wipe away the blood. The coolness of the damp cloth felt refreshing against his skin that still seemed to burn, though not from the new, foreign organ that pulsed beside his heart.
And there was a smell in the room. Something he didn’t recognize. It was a savory scent, something that made the air smell better in the same way that salt made food more delicious. It intoxicated him, warming him like a warm fire near the Frozen Waste.
Then he realized it was familiar. He’d just never identified it so clearly. It was the same smell that filled his lungs when he’d been clinging to Katsi’s back as they flew to Mazanib when he’d let his nose stray too close to the back of her neck, her hair tracing across his face.
Sands.
He was being assaulted by memories of her. Why did she do this to him? He refused to look at her, holding his breath for fear of breathing in that horrible scent. That disgusting, wonderful scent. The scent that assaulted him mark by mark, haunting him with thoughts of the unattainable. That blissful scent.
Sands.
“That will do,” Migo said. “Help the others.” He gestured to the refugees before he started to apply the salve again. He’d stopped bleeding and wondered how long it would take to seal up. Without his new Ashjagar qualities, it would have certainly required stitches.
He walked by Katsi without looking at her to get over to the refugees, pausing before Vasash. “Lady Vasash,” he said. “I had long dreamed of seeing the beautiful city of Wanay. I have heard of the beautiful lakeside buildings. I am so sorry that we met under such conditions.”
Vasash blinked rapidly, giving him a quick nod. She bit her lip for a moment before responding. “It’s alright. Nobody could have foreseen such a terrible thing. Perhaps we will be able to carry on, but I do still worry for the Wanayans who survived and the nearby settlements.”
“I understand,” Migo said. “I’ll try to get word there however I can to get people to safety.”
“Thank you,” she said, water welling in her eyes.
Migo gave a curt nod and turned away. He hated to see a lady in such a state. She’d lost everything. The burden of the loss of an entire city would be resting on her shoulders. “It is not your fault,” he said over his shoulder. “Remember that.”
It was his.
Sure, he didn’t send the Reyganin army to destroy the city, but he’d enabled them to do so. He clenched his fists. No. He couldn’t go down that train of thought. Not again. Such thoughts had destroyed him after his father died. He could never have known that such a thing would happen. He was justly executing the emperor for murdering an innocent man. For murdering his father.
Sometimes doing the right thing meant facing terrible consequences.
