Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,92
and not magic. She couldn’t tell.
Magic poured into her, bright and sparking. The magic in the air and filling the courtyard coalesced around them until she couldn’t see anyone past the bright blue crackle. The light grew so intense she had to squeeze her eyes shut. She clung to Farrendel, even as he pulled back from the kiss. His skin was slick with blood or sweat. Perhaps both.
The fiery power of his magic tore through her, and she struggled to grip it. She gritted her teeth, mentally wrestling with the amount of magic placed in her hands. Forcing herself to breathe, she held onto Farrendel’s magic even as he poured still more into her and the heart bond.
It felt as if fire scorched through her veins about to burn her up. Essie dragged in a breath and struggled to stay conscious. She must not pass out. She had to hold on to Farrendel’s magic for just a few moments longer.
Then, through the heart bond, she sensed Farrendel’s grip on his magic steady, his control shaky but returning. He grasped the remaining magic, drawing it to him. Essie’s breathing hitched with the force of the magic contained in the two of them.
The magic surrounding her and Farrendel exploded.
Essie was thrown backwards, Farrendel torn from her grip. The moment before she would have struck the ground, the magic in the heart bond flashed out and shielded her, cushioning her fall enough that only her shoulder ached from the impact.
A gigantic boom tore through the sky, then the pressure of magic dissipated like a breeze sweeping away into the distance.
When she peeled her eyes open, sparks of Farrendel’s magic drizzled down from the sky like rain before winking out.
Farrendel lay unmoving on the ground several yards. He must have also been blown backwards by the force of the magical blast, though the way he sprawled limply on the ground suggested he hadn’t had the magic-protected landing Essie had.
Essie tottered to her feet and dashed toward him, her legs still unsteady.
Weylind raced past her and knelt next to Farrendel, gently lifting him. As Essie approached, Weylind held up a hand. “No, do not touch him. Not yet.”
Essie clenched her fists but didn’t go any closer. He was right. If she activated the deep connection of the heart bond now, it might make it harder for the elven healers to do their job, since they would have to worry about putting too much strain on Essie. Better to wait until it was absolutely necessary, even though she wanted to hold Farrendel close.
Weylind stood, cradling Farrendel to him. Farrendel lay limp, head lolling against Weylind’s shoulder. Weylind strode in the direction of the gates, as if oblivious to everything else but getting Farrendel to a healer.
Essie moved to follow, yet something caught her eye. Behind Farrendel and Weylind, the troll prince eased to his feet and pressed a hand to his shoulder. She whipped her rifle from her shoulder and raised it.
Averett appeared at her side, a pistol already in his hand. He pointed it at the troll prince. “No sudden moves.”
The troll prince spread both hands at his sides, palms up. “I have already surrendered.”
Averett’s pistol didn’t waver. Not that a mere pistol would do much good if the troll prince tried something. Averett reached out with a hand and blindly patted Essie’s arm. “Take care of Farrendel. I can see to things here. Edmund, go with them. Julien, with me.”
Essie handed her rifle to Julien. He and Averett would need the weapon more than she did. Then, she hurried across the courtyard. Edmund fell into step beside her, his jaw set.
With his long stride, Weylind had already reached the gates and was crossing the temporary wooden bridge that spanned a two-foot-wide gap in the stone bridge. The explosive they had used to splinter the gates must have been strong enough to punch a hole through the bridge.
Even though she was hurrying, Weylind still reached the camp on the far side and disappeared into the hospital tent before Essie had caught up with him. She reached the tent flap and pushed inside.
Wounded lay on cots with nurses bustling between them. Surgical rooms in the back were walled off with curtains.
Before Essie could take more than a step inside, an elven nurse blocked her way. “You need to wash before you’re allowed inside.”
“But Weylind...Farrendel...” Essie couldn’t manage to talk coherently. She just wanted to push past this nurse and hurry to Farrendel’s side.