A Promise of Fire (24 page)

I don’t have time to teach her a lesson in humanity, or to show her how little I have myself. I grab her head and squeeze. She screams as magic rips from her and jumps to me. I’ve never absorbed a healer’s power before. I’ve never actually taken any magic that wasn’t either given to me or directed at me, except that euphoria in Velos. There’s something liquid about healing magic, but it’s not a soft current. It’s a raging tide, and it hits me so hard it knocks me over.

My back hits the ground. Carver sits me up, holding me steady while I grab the healer again. Like a swamp leech, I take everything she’s got. I drain her until her skin turns gray. I drain her until she’ll regret denying me until her dying day. I drain her until she slumps to the side, limp and vacant.

Jittery with power, I bring trembling hands back to Griffin’s chest and send magic into his wound. It tears from me like layers of skin peeling off one by one. I cry out, and Griffin pales, fighting to stay conscious. Magic seeps into him, agonizing for us both. I grit my teeth and keep going until I realize he’s not getting better fast enough. He’s too far gone.

“Get me a knife!” I yell.

Griffin focuses on me one last time before his eyes close.

“No! No! No!” I shriek, shattering on the inside.

I don’t know who hands me the knife. I grab it and make a long, shallow incision from Griffin’s shoulder to his elbow. Flesh splits, and crimson wells up. I flip the flat sides of the knife in his blood, coating both surfaces. No one taught me to make a Death Mark or say the chant. Most of the times it happened to me, I was unconscious. The few times I wasn’t… It’s not something a person forgets.

I raise the knife to Olympus and pour healing magic into the blood, chanting fast and low. I say the incantation ten times. It’s either six or ten. Anything else invites chaos, and more is always better, right?

With the last words, I smear the blood back onto Griffin’s arm. Tossing the knife aside, I put one hand on his chest and the other on his arm and drain myself of the healer’s power. I empty every last drop of it into him. When it’s gone, I pour in some of myself. My magic doesn’t knit wounds, but I have power I don’t understand, that I didn’t even know existed before today.

Once I start, I can’t stop. I was never any good at self-control. My magic begins to shred. It’s startling and painful to feel it ripping free. Disjointed threads collide and splinter, latching on to parts of me that I then dump into Griffin with the single-minded focus of a person on the verge of unbearable loss.

Time is irrelevant. I have no idea how much passes. The flow of magic ebbs as I weaken, leaving me numb. I’m only dimly aware of the first part of the army arriving. Dust swirls, catching in my nostrils and sneaking grit into my mouth. People talk. It’s indistinct, but I think they’re stunned by what they see. The carnage—my carnage—seems far away now. Over. It doesn’t concern me.

Piers falls to his knees across from me, his face washed of all color. Griffin’s face is even paler, and frighteningly still. I want to shove Piers away, but I can’t move. My vision is dulling, my senses cloaked in an ever-thickening fog. Low voices sometimes penetrate it. I hear Kato and wish he would pat my head while Flynn says “shhh” in my ear. This is a nightmare, and I need them to wake me up.

My eyes close and won’t open again. I wage a fierce battle against fatigue. It wins, and I collapse across Griffin’s chest. His tunic is wet and sticky with blood. I want it to be cool like a Fisan lake, but it’s hot. He’s hot. I force my lips to move, to continue a chant I’ve heard healers use, but after a few mumbled words, they stop. I’m heavy on the outside, empty on the inside. I probably did something wrong. I don’t feel my magic anymore. I can’t feel my blood or my breath or my thundering hate. I can’t even tell if Griffin is alive, and I want him to live so much I’d make dark bargains with shadows in the night.

“Poseidon! I’ll do anything!”
I silently beg.

An unfamiliar voice invades my head.
“Daughter of Fisa, turn to
me
!”
The booming echo between my ears is so frighteningly powerful that I use the last of my strength to cringe. A white light flashes, bright enough to sear unseeing eyes. The accompanying crack of thunder is terrifying. Deafening. I taste Griffin’s blood on my lips before darkness crashes over me like a wave.

I’m not sure where I am. I rattle doors that won’t open, pound on windows with no view. If this is the Underworld, it’s not what I expected. It’s endless, timeless. Crushingly eternal. I thought there would be peace here. I thought it would finally be over. Haven’t I proved my warrior’s heart?

Trapped in this unsettling, empty gloom, my only regret is leaving Griffin.

But then his familiar voice comes to me from somewhere beyond the shadowy veil. Relief sweeps through me, only to be crushed by a devastating thought. Is he alive, or are we both dead? He’s talking, but I can’t hear. The words are garbled and faint, like he’s above the surface, and I’m below.

I kick, trying to reach the light, to hear, but I sink farther under, wondering how I can breathe down here in the dark.

I wake with a moan. The strong arms circling my waist tense, and a long exhale warms the top of my head. I’m instantly aware of the hard, bare chest against my bare back, skin on skin.

“Cat?”

At the sound of Griffin’s deep voice, my heart thumps hard against my ribs, proving it still works. “You’re alive,” I murmur.

“You don’t sound disappointed,” he gently teases. “I must be moving up in your esteem.”

I feel his body behind mine, and water lapping at my skin. I want to turn in his arms, but my limbs won’t obey. “Where are we?”

“Ios’s bathhouse.”

“What’s wrong with me? I can’t move, or see.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and worry starts like an itch, spreading. “I think you gave too much to save me. I woke up to a great clap of thunder, perfectly healed. Even my old scars were gone.”

Really? I’ll miss the one over his eye.
“I thought you needed improvement.”

His soft chuckle rumbles through me. His arms tighten, sliding me up his chest.

“Am I naked?” I don’t feel any clothes.

“Yes.”

“Are you naked?”

“Yes.”

I try to turn invisible. “Am I invisible?”

“Save your energy, Cat. It’s your turn to heal.”

I guess that means no. I’m so empty, completely drained. My arms float, weightless in the water. “What if I can’t?”

“Of course you can. Just rest.” His lips brush my hair, his gruff tenderness making my heart turn over. Then he shifts, and something thick and hard presses against my bottom.

I feel my cheeks heat despite my pitiful state. “Don’t get any ideas,” I mutter.

“Oh, I have ideas. But I’d prefer you to be conscious.”

Warmth blossoms low in my belly, radiating throughout me.

“Trust me,” Griffin whispers in my ear.

“Don’t…trust…anyone.”

“You could try.”

I smile on the inside since that’s all I can manage.

Darkness recedes, slow and thick like oil. “Griffin?”

“I’m here.” His grip around me tightens. I like lying on his chest, rising and falling when he breathes.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Hours. It’s the next day. The water woke you up yesterday, so I brought you back.”

That sounds…worrisome.
“Have we been here long?”

“Hours,” he repeats. “We’re as wrinkled as my parents.”

I laugh. Sort of. Not being able to see makes my sense of touch come alive. His body cradles mine—hard thighs sprinkled with crisp hair, ridged abdomen flat against my back, strong arms circling my waist, holding me a shade closer than necessary. “Thank you for bringing me to the water.”

He presses a scalding kiss to my shoulder. “Thank you for being insane enough to think you could save us. Save me.”

“I told you not to go alone.”

“I should have listened to you.”

“I told you to bring an army.”

I feel him smile against the curve of my neck. My skin tingles under his mouth. “Turns out, all I needed was you.”

His words make me feel like honey that’s been left out in the afternoon sun. It’s hard to be ruthless when I’m slowly melting. “Release me from my vow.”

He goes utterly still. I don’t even think he breathes. Then his lips draw a searing path along my shoulder while his thumb moves in slow, sensual circles just below my breasts. I’m suddenly glad I can’t move. It gives me an excuse to stay where I am.

Low and gravelly, he finally says, “I release you from all vows to me.”

Hints of magic flare inside me and then extinguish, my binding vows dissolving. Freedom doesn’t feel any different.

“Don’t go, Cat.” Griffin’s mouth never leaves my skin, his breath a warm whisper. “Please.”

My heart splits wide open, finally finishing off the crack he started that hot night at the circus fair.

There’s a cool hand on my forehead. The fingers are light and smooth. “Selena?”

“Egeria.”

Disappointment washes through me like a tepid wave. She lifts my head and puts a cup to my lips. Cool water slips down my throat. Some does, anyway. The rest dribbles down my neck.

“How’s my horse?” I ask.

“He’s fine. Stabled with the others and eating his weight in oats.”

“He deserves it. He saved you all.”

There’s a lengthy pause. “I think you did that.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten far without Panotii.”

“Panotii? Like the mythical tribe?”

Who says they’re mythical?
“He has big ears.”

A cool sponge touches my chest. She moves to my arms next, first the right, then the left, and then does my hands, carefully washing each finger. My eyes won’t open. I’m powerless, unable to see or move. Utterly vulnerable.

“Who are you, Cat? Really?”

“Where’s Griffin?” I ask.

Water sloshes, and then the sponge slides over my legs and feet. “Resting. He hasn’t slept in three days.”

My immediate impulse is to shake my head. It doesn’t work. “That’s impossible. People always sleep after healing.”

“Whatever you did to him had the opposite effect.” Egeria trails the sponge over my lower stomach. My brain tells me to jump because I’m ticklish there, but nothing happens. “He’s hardly left your side. He thinks you did something harmful to yourself in order to save him.”

If I’ve been mostly unconscious for three days, I probably did.

A chill spreads through me, icing my blood. I’ve known all sorts of fear—fear of pain, fear of discovery, fear of capture. This is new. This is the kind of fear that teaches me the difference between trying to stay alive, and wanting to
live
.

“Did you?” she asks. “Why aren’t you getting better?”

“I am. I can talk.” Sort of. My words are already slurring.

The door opens on creaking hinges, and Egeria throws a sheet over me, scolding, “Don’t you knock?”

“We heard talking. Is she awake?” Kato’s voice helps thaw the frost settling in my veins.

“More or less,” I answer for Egeria.

“Time to get up,” Flynn says brusquely. “We’re all waiting for you to give us that know-it-all look of yours so we can kneel down and kiss your feet.”

Kiss my feet like a Goddess. Like Athena. Wisdom and war.

Well, war anyway.

“And present our arses for spanking,” Carver adds.

A smile tugs at my lips. “Don’t…tempt me.”

“Out,” Egeria says. “Cat needs to rest.”

No!
“Stay.”

There’s a scraping of chair legs. They surround me. Beta Team. My team. A big hand covers mine, engulfing it. “What did you do to yourself?” Flynn asks.

“Wish I knew.”

He squeezes my hand, but I can’t squeeze back.

“Sleepy,” I mumble.

Kato pats my head, and Flynn holds my hand. Carver whistles a tribal tune, and with them close by, I’m not as afraid of the dark.

“Why would a tribe of southern Tarvans attack this far north? Or even attack in Sinta at all?”

Slogging through fog, it takes me a moment to place the voice. Piers.

“Why would they even care about stopping a healing center?” Egeria asks.

“They didn’t care about the healing center.” Griffin’s response is edgy and gruff. It still soothes me to hear his voice. “There’s no reason for them to care, or to even know about it. Someone else was behind this, someone with knowledge of our plans and gold to buy mercenaries.”

“Someone Tarvan or someone Fisan?” Carver asks. “Or both, creating an alliance against us?”

“Or Sintan,” Piers suggests. “Nobles are used to having a certain amount of influence with the royal family. It’s in their best interest to replace us with one of their own.”

Egeria sighs. “I wish Cat would wake up. She’d have ideas about all this, I’m sure.”

“I just wish Cat would wake up,” Griffin says dully.

Emotion swells in my chest. Warm fingers brush my forehead. The touch is gentle, the skin rough. I want to turn into Griffin’s hand. The irony isn’t lost on me. I spent weeks rejecting him, and now that I don’t want to anymore, I can’t even move.

“Do you have any idea who she is?” Piers asks. “She’s the perfect match for a Fisan noble—northern coloring, light-green eyes, a terrifying amount of magic, and the arrogance to match it. She could practically be a Magoi royal in terms of power.”

“Except she’s not a bloodthirsty tyrant,” Griffin says.

They’re all silent. I’m not sure anyone agrees.

“The realm dinner is coming up,” Egeria says nervously. “What if a Sintan noble was behind the attack?”

“Cat will figure it out,” Carver says. I can’t help thinking his confidence is optimistic considering my current state.

“How?” Egeria asks.

I imagine him shrugging, his lean, muscled shoulders rolling with the effortless grace of an expert swordsman. “That’s what she does. Reads people.”

“What if she doesn’t get better?” Egeria voices the question everyone is thinking, especially me.

Griffin strokes my hair. “She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” Egeria insists.

Boots stomp, and the door creaks open. “Kato! Flynn! Get a healer in here!”

Egeria’s muttering tells me this ground has already been covered. Repeatedly. “They can’t do anything, Griffin.”

“They’re not trying!” he snaps.

“I think they are.”

He curses. “I need to be sure.” He comes back to the bed and picks up my hand. “Otherwise, I’ll take her to Selena.”

Yes, please.

“You shouldn’t move her,” Egeria frets. “It might disturb her.”

“I don’t care if it disturbs her! She’s not eating or drinking. She’s skin and bones.”

Me? Skin and bones? Ha!

There’s a commotion to my left. The door opens, feet shuffle, and the door closes again.

“No more games, Healer. Fix her.” Griffin is either pointing imperiously at me or he’s got his legs braced apart, his arms crossed over his chest, and a ferocious scowl on his face. I can’t decide.

“My colleagues and I have already tried,” a man responds stiffly.

“Try
again
,” Griffin orders.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

An ominous sound rises in Griffin’s throat. “She’s northern. She’s Magoi. She’s like you. She saved all of your sorry lives. While you were running away, she was defending this place. It doesn’t matter what you think of me. Fix. Her.”

“She killed Belinda.”

Who?
The healer I drained flashes in my mind, limp and vacant. Dead, apparently.

“Belinda should have cooperated.” Griffin’s voice levels out dangerously. The healer would be stupid not to heed the threat.

“I would help her if I could, but I can’t. None of us can. This is what happens to healers who give too much. She drained her life force, and now she’s not strong enough to get it back.”

“Explain yourself,” Griffin says sharply.

“She gave it to you, Beta Sinta. She needs it back.”

Alarm hits me like a lightning bolt. Griffin must realize the same thing. With him, I can only give.

“What if that’s not possible?” Griffin asks.

The healer’s answer is dispassionate. “She’ll die. Look at her. She’s already fading away.”

He’s telling the truth. I’d know even without my gift.

The conversation grows faint, and I feel feverish. I’ve heard the Underworld is hot. Is Hades stoking his furnaces? Will he let me see Selena? I guess prophecies don’t always come true…

The voices around me fade, and a dark wave rolls over me, followed by endless gray.
Where’s Eleni?

No! Not yet!

I fight my way back, trudging, clawing, and force my mouth to move. “Griffin?”

His weight instantly buckles the mattress, making me roll toward him. “Take it back!” He lifts my hands to his face. His jaw is prickly, and I wish I could see him—strong, determined features, black stubble, gray eyes that never fail to unmask me. His voice is rough with emotion, and I wonder what I did to earn his affection. I’m not even nice to him.

“Take your life force back!” His grip is urgent, his face close enough for his breath to stir my hair.

I try to find what I’ve lost, but he’s impenetrable. My feeble attempts slide right off. After a while, Griffin must understand that nothing is happening because he snarls in frustration and lays my hands back down.

“She can take ours. Some from each of us,” Kato says on my other side. A moment later, three heavy sets of hands land on me, one by one, followed by a smaller, feminine pair that joins the others.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I don’t take anything from them. I won’t risk taking too much.

“Well?” Griffin asks impatiently.

“Nothing,” Flynn answers. “Either nothing’s happening, or she’s not trying.”

Griffin unleashes a string of curses that likely teach Egeria a thing or two. “Out!” he eventually barks.

Muttering under his breath about how stubborn I am, he lies down next to me, tucking me against his side. I wish I’d kissed him back. I should have thanked him for the lamb steak.

“Can you hear me?” he asks.

I manage to push a sound from my throat.

“Did you even try?”

I don’t respond, and he quietly curses. “I didn’t think so. You don’t always have to have the last word, you know.”

I wish I could laugh. I haven’t won a single fight with Griffin. Right now, I can’t even talk, but he thinks I’m always getting the last word?

He shifts, sitting me upright and propping me against him. My head flops to the side, and he pushes it back, bracing it under his chin. “I have an idea. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t know what else to do.” He picks up my hand, rubbing my palm with his callused thumb. “What is life force? Mind? Body? Spirit? All of it combined? Is it in our blood? I can give you my blood. I’m going to cut myself.”

That’s never a good idea.

“Your turn.”

Wait! What?

A blade stings the palm of my hand. Blood seeps out, along with my perpetual fear of discovery. He pulls me onto his lap. My panicked breathing gradually calms as Griffin holds me against him, our fingers laced together. It tingles where our blood mixes, frighteningly intimate.

I listen to his steady heartbeat under my ear and fight exhaustion, terrified that the next time I fall asleep, I won’t wake up.