daughter. Get her home. I don’t care how much she fights you. Protect her with your fucking life, do you understand?”
The words haunted Emerian while he worked. He found a place to stop and rest with Mave, knowing what he had to do. Those words haunted his every step, his every decision. And now, she was lying in front of him as he tried to remove an arrow from her side. Then he had to get the one out of her back. Those were the most pressing issues. They would kill her eventually if he didn’t get them out, probably from infection.
He couldn’t do anything about the wing. Already, the bone was trying to knit. A real healer would need to rebreak it, set it, and hope it took. From the angle of the wing, Emerian wasn’t sure Mave could fly well. The tears and holes healed on their own, but the break put her wing at a bad angle.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he said, swallowing his apprehension. He’d sworn to get her home and keep her alive. He was going to do that.
She didn’t respond. She was awake, he knew she was, but she didn’t respond. She was eerily quiet, which disturbed him. This was a female who was unafraid to make her opinion known and always had something new to say to him. Months of training with her taught him she would always be there to guide him. She didn’t let him make the same mistakes twice.
But she didn’t speak now.
Her father just died to protect her. He died to make sure I could get her home. I…I know how that feels. I was silent for months after my parents were murdered.
He touched her cheek, pushing her hair off her face.
“Please tell me if this hurts,” he pleaded again. He reached for the arrow, which he had already cut down, and slowly began to work out what was left. The wound had already started healing, which had stopped the bleeding. He ruined that. It opened up again, and blood began to spill out. She shook in pain underneath him, but he didn’t stop until the entire arrowhead was free.
He grabbed a waterskin and poured the precious resource over the hole, clearing out debris that had gotten in while they fought and ran for their lives. Once it was cleaned out to his satisfaction, he bandaged her, forcing her to lift her hips, so he could take it all the way around her. It wasn’t easy. She was lying in a dazed state on her stomach as if nothing was happening around her.
Once done, he nodded at his work.
“I think I did good for a male with one eye,” he said with no short amount of bitter anger at his own injury. It was unsavable, his eye. The Elvasi had gotten a lucky hit across his face, and it left a scar from his temple to the bridge of his nose. Emerian didn’t want to think about what he had to do once he realized his eye was ruined and a dangerous infection risk. It had been painful and horrifying, but he had done it. He’d packed it with bandages and wrapped his head, hoping it would hold. He would need to keep it clean, but he knew Andinna without eyes. They made it work. He could as well.
I don’t really have any other options.
Emerian moved on to the arrow in Mave’s back. He moved slower with that one, knowing it had been the one to take her down. It hadn’t hit her spine, but it was too close for comfort. He felt her body tense and tried to relax her by rubbing her back with one hand before he continued further.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked softly, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She blinked, and her mouth opened.
“Left,” she answered. “Down.”
He wanted to cry. Those were the first words she had spoken since Kian died. His warrior was coming back. He needed her to come back. He didn’t even know how to describe how much he needed it. He’d promised her father he would protect her, but it was hard when she was so lost in her grief she wouldn’t speak.
By her instruction, he knew it hurt left and down, so he tilted it up and to the right, then pulled slowly. She didn’t tense again or scream. Whatever pain there was, she was strong, handling it without reacting. He’d screamed and cried, losing his