into the bars again. He slowed himself down, but the back of one leg slid across three of the bars. Yelling, he pulled himself forward, panting and gasping while trying not to vomit from the smell of his own charred flesh. The blackness came rushing in from all sides, and Emane tried to surrender quickly to allow Kiora a rest. But Dralazar was at his side a moment later, healing his wounds just enough to pull him back to reality.
“What did I tell you?” Dralazar said, his fingers digging painfully into Emane’s shoulder. “There will be no escape this time. Are you ready to heal me?”
He shuddered. “I—I can’t,” he wheezed, slumping forward.
Dralazar squeezed his shoulder again, sending currents of magic jolting through him. He couldn’t hear Kiora’s scream, but he could feel it, running through his body just as the current was. His teeth ground together as his back arched, his muscles contracting with the pulsing magic.
He was supposed to protect Kiora, to keep her from harm. There was only one way. “All right!” he screamed. “I’ll do it!”
Dralazar released Emane’s shoulder as he stood. Emane collapsed to the floor.
“That didn’t take as long as I anticipated,” Dralazar said, sounding pleased. “I must say, I am disappointed in your stamina, Prince Emane.”
“Heal me first,” he gasped.
Dralazar’s face darkened. “What?” he barked.
“Heal me first, or I won’t heal you. That is the deal.”
“You are in no position to negotiate.”
Emane looked up at him from beneath lanky sections of sweat-soaked hair, trembling from the raw pain he was still passing onto Kiora. “Yes, I am. I have what you want, and I have agreed. I can heal it now, or we can see how many more days I can take this.”
Dralazar’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m done!” Emane shouted. “I can’t do this anymore! Heal me, or get out!” He hoped the lie was not apparent in his eyes.
Dralazar took two quick steps towards him. Kneeling down, he gripped his shoulder again. “Healed or not, you are no match for me.”
Emane looked Dralazar in the eye. “I know.”
The healing spread out from Dralazar’s hand, soothing every inch of his body. Emane sighed, not with his own relief, but with Kiora’s.
“Now,” Dralazar said. “Heal it.” He extended his hand.
I’m sorry, Kiora, Emane thought as a hopelessness spread through him. It was the only way.
* * *
ALCANDER HAD CARRIED KIORA to the enclosure so he could release the bubble concealing them. He sat against a tree, holding her tightly. The last scream had been worse than the first, and he stared at the setting sun. He couldn’t look at her, not like this. Not when there was nothing he could do. She went limp suddenly, like a rag doll, collapsing in his arms. He looked down, squeezing her tighter to his chest with relief.
“Is it over?” Drustan asked.
“Kiora?” Alcander shook her lightly. “Are you okay?” Her dark hair was caught beneath his arm; only her white streak had escaped and was blowing in the wind.
She moved, burying her face in his chest. He rested his chin against the top of her head. “Does it still hurt?”
“Alcander,” she whimpered, “it was horrible. They are going to kill him. ”
Kiora’s body returned to normal as soon as Emane healed himself—at least she assumed that was what happened. The pain stopped too abruptly for it to be anything else. Pushing herself off Alcander’s lap, she looked to Drustan. “We have to get Emane out,” she whispered.
Drustan’s eyes flicked to Alcander.
“What?” she asked, looking between the two.
“We have to sever your attachment first,” Alcander replied.
Her eyes narrowed. “Sever my . . . no!”
“Kiora—”
“No!” she cut him off, pushing herself to her feet. “How am I supposed to know what’s happening with him when it’s gone? He is my protector, we need that connection.”
“You’re being foolish,” Alcander snapped, rising to his feet. “You can’t fight a battle when you suffer from each other’s wounds.”
“He’s right,” Drustan said.
Kiora shot Drustan a murderous glare.
“This connection will get you both killed.” Alcander gripped her hand, reminding her of their connection as magic coursed through her, leaving her weak in the knees. “Kiora, please. You cannot allow yourself to be this susceptible to attacks. It is a weakness you are choosing.”
She bit her lip, neatly extracting her hands from his grasp.
“Kiora.” Drustan walked over, his voice soft and understanding as he took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You are not betraying Emane.”