“We don’t have to decide today. Right? We have time,” Jeremy said.
“Right. Good point. We have time. We have lots of time.”
Rafe turned to Jeremy, raised his head to kiss him. And that’s when an arrow struck Jeremy in the back.
Time’s up.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jeremy inhaled sharply and started to fall. Rafe grabbed him, looked around in terror.
Back from the dead, Ripper stepped out from behind a tree and cackled.
“Told ya I’d rip your heart out!” he cried in triumph.
Rafe reached for his bow, but Sunny and Freddy were faster. They crossed the distance in seconds, it seemed, then reared up and kicked Ripper into the river.
As Ripper sank into the water, he cried out, “Not fair!” before dissolving into nothing.
Jeremy twitched in his arms, grunting in pain.
“Don’t—” Rafe said, but it was too late. Jeremy twisted hard and yanked the arrow from his back. It had landed under his right shoulder blade, not the left, thus missing his heart.
“Jay? Jay, talk to me.”
Jeremy collapsed onto his side in the fetal position, face white with pain.
“Can’t…breathe.”
“Hold on. Just hold on.” Rafe called the horses over. Freddy went down on his knees like a show pony and Rafe helped Jeremy onto his back. He mounted behind Jeremy to hold him as they rode. Though it was agony for Jeremy, there was no time to be gentle. They raced to the palace, and as he passed through the gates, Rafe called out for help.
Soon they were surrounded.
“Get him into the palace,” Skya ordered. “Now. Carefully.”
Rafe and the Valkyries lifted him—sixteen arms like a stretcher carried him to the queen’s morning room. Ola, the healer woman, kicked them all out but Skya. Even Rafe and Emilie were made to wait outside. Behind the closed door, he listened. Jeremy coughed and it was a terrible liquid sound.
“He’ll be all right,” Emilie said. “I know he’ll be all right. He has to be.”
“How do you know?” Rafe barely knew what he was saying.
Emilie didn’t answer, only held on to him. Jeremy’s soft gasps of pain were music to his ears. They meant he was alive.
Then suddenly it was quiet.
“No,” Rafe said. Just that. Only one quiet no. He started to fall. Only Emilie’s arms held him up.
Skya opened the door.
“He’s alive,” she said. “They’ve given him something to ease the pain. But he doesn’t have very long.”
The words poisoned the air. Rafe could barely breathe.
“You mean he’ll die?” Emilie asked. Her voice was sharp as a sword. “Jeremy can’t die. No, no. That can’t happen. There has to be something. There has to be—”
“The Witch?” Rafe asked.
“Too far,” Skya said. “He won’t make it that long.”
“How long do we have?” Rafe asked her.
She stared at him. When she spoke, she sounded like a judge delivering a life sentence. Better, though, than a death sentence.
“Long enough to get him to a hospital,” Skya said.
“Home,” Rafe said. Of course. Home. Hospitals. Doctors. Surgeons.
“The Painted Sea—” he began. He remembered now how long it had taken them to get home the last time. Two nights and two days.
“No,” Skya said. “He won’t make the sea crossing either. There is another way out, much closer, but—”
“We’ll take it,” Rafe said. “What is it?”
Skya lowered her voice. “Your father’s soul is in the Ghost Town. It would have made a tear between our worlds when he passed through. You can use it to get back home. A day’s ride to the entrance. An hour or two through the Ghost Town.”
“The Bright Boys will swarm us,” he said. “I can’t fight this fear.”
“You can. It’s not courage that repels them most. It’s love. Love casts out fear.”
