a spot across the room. “Malin, are you sure? She’s—”
After a few seconds, Annalise turns off her wristlet.
“Malin requests your presence at the hospital. Henry and someone named Eloise are there.”
16
The lights flicker in rhythm with my heartbeat as I sprint barefoot down the endless hallway. As soon as Annalise told me about Henry and Eloise, I transported to the hospital. I didn’t bother to land in a secure zone. Maybe that’s reckless, but I don’t care.
“Lark! Wait!” Annalise calls from behind me. Pure adrenaline and fear propel me forward. There’s no way she can catch me. Not without using magic and she won’t. Not in public.
I’m not sure where I’m going, but something tells me to head to the third floor. Before Annalise can stop me, I step and spin, transporting myself up two floors.
Annalise claims to know nothing other than what Mother told her: Henry and Eloise were taken during the battle, and at Mother’s instance, they were granted clemency.
It doesn’t make sense. Why would they attack us? No—why would they attack me? They’re my friends.
Unless, like Beck, they were being used as pawns.
A tight knot of people crowd around the entrance of a room toward the end of a short hallway.
“Excuse me,” I say. When no one moves, I raise my voice. “Excuse me. I need to get through.”
The man in front of me shoots a scowl over his shoulder. He does a double take before stepping back with a slight bow of his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Lark. I didn’t know it was you.”
I ignore him and shove through the throng of people. When I reach the doorway, I freeze.
Henry kneels next to the bed, his face covered in soot.
But that’s not what makes my blood run cold. On the bed, above the blankets, lies Eloise. Her pale, ashen skin looks almost gray in the dark room, and an enormous crimson gash oozes blood through her shredded shirt.
Henry stands to greet me. A red wristlet encircles his arm and he stumbles.
He’s been branded a criminal.
I rush to his side, hoping to spare my uncle the humiliation of shuffling toward me and silence falls over the bystanders.
My dry mouth tries different combination of sounds, before finding the words I don’t want to say, but have to. “Is she dead?”
Henry shakes his head. “Not yet. But she will be if she doesn’t receive attention soon.”
I turn to the group watching us from the doorway. “Someone get the healer,” I say politely. When it seems as if I’ve gone unheard, I growl, “Get the healer.”
The room springs to life with witches jumping this way and that.
But it’s not because of me. Mother has appeared next to me and grabs me from behind. She presses my arms to my side. I struggle and try to pull away from her, but she’s stronger than she looks.
“Calm, Lark. This could be a trap.”
“You have Henry branded, and Eloise is nearly dead. It’s not a trap.” A constant drumming fills my head and I tremble. Magic flows from my fingertips, and the air around Mother and me shifts, shimmering in the dim light. I realize she’s only physically holding me. Mother isn’t trying to block my magic.
Tears of desperation sit in my eyes. “Please, Mother, help her. Eloise is my friend. She protected me. She fought for me.”
Mother loosens her grip, and I slip out and run to Eloise’s side. Behind me I hear Mother call for the healer.
My filthy ball gown hangs limply around me as I kneel next to the bed and stroke Eloise’s cold, clammy arm. “Do not die,” I whisper. “Don’t you dare die.”
Blood runs in tiny rivers over her bare torso. It’s not clotting. If I’ve learned anything from my years of living with Beck, it’s how to staunch the flow of blood, but this is more than the trickle I’m used to. It seeps between my fingers as I press my hands against her wound, and her sticky, warm blood trickles down my arms and onto my dress. Her chest rises slowly beneath my hands, each breath a labored effort, and for that, I’m thankful.
“I need to speak to you privately, Malin,” Henry says from next to me.
Both Annalise and Mother’s female guard step forward as if the mere suggestion of Mother and Henry being alone is dangerous.
I lift my head and notice Mother watching me with curiosity. “And why is that Henry? What do you need to tell me that can’t be said before these good