Page 67 of Fae Tithe

“I’ll be right behind you,” she promised, putting on a false smile. Her heart was hammering in her chest at the thought of being left behind in a strange city, next to the dead King. She swallowed down her fear, and gave the stallion’s side a rough pat. “Get going!”

Eleanor was right, Lance admitted as the Seelie Stallion cantered smoothly back to the inn.

The ride back was short, thanks to the stallion, but he was acutely aware that Helena’s heart and lungs were struggling, despite the healing magic he had poured into her. Panic gripped his chest as Lance thought about how long it had been since he removed his hand.

Bright Sun Inn met his eyes. The Seelie Stallion slowed to a walk and stopped right in front of the entrance. The animal smoothly lowered his forelegs by folding his knees to the ground. Lance slipped off awkwardly, managing to get Helena back into the cradle of his arms. Her temple was pressed to his chest.

“Uh…” Lance watched as the big creature clambered back up to his front hooves. “…thank you?” the Merman said awkwardly.

Turning his back to the horse, he elbowed open the door of the inn and charged up the stairs, the drumming of blood in his ears matching his every creaking step. He burst into their rented bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

Lance gently lowered Helena on the thrown-back sheets on the straw-stuffed mattress. He pressed his hand to her chest. A wavering blue glow met her blistering skin. He tried to push it into her heart and lungs to nurture their natural rhythm.

There was no beat or bellows.

There was nothing for Lance to heal.

He crumpled over her, a shuddering sob escaping his lips and skittering over her cold skin.

Helena’s heart and lungs had stopped.

She was gone.

No!

For the briefest of fleeting moments Helena felt nothing. A bittersweet release from the white-hot pain and flurry of anxious thoughts welcomed her. A blissful oblivion opened its arms in a gentle embrace, and she grasped for it.

No. You must stay here with me.

Helena’s release was short-lived. The excruciating pain from the injuries inflicted by the Seelie King’s Dragon Flame coursed through her limbs again. She awoke flat on her back, covered in ash. Helena gasped. She panted with lungs full of smoke. Her only working eye fluttered open to take in her surroundings.

Stay awake.

Helena looked up into the scarlet sky. The pressure on her chest almost overtook the throbbing pain that wracked her body. She tilted her chin down, and her eye widened in shock as she saw the very tip of a huge, serrated talon protruding from the toe of a paw. The point of the claw pressed directly onto Helena’s heart, as though it was forcing it to keep beating.

Your Siren’s magic is reaching us here in Muspelheim. He will show us the way. You must stay here with me. Give him time.

The earthquake voice shook the ashen ground beneath her. The smoky air swirled. Somehow, the voice was both inside and outside of Helena’s head, making her ears ring and rattling the teeth in her gums. Her eye closed again. She could not stay awake. She longed for the painless oblivion that had briefly welcomed her before she was dragged to this bizarre, fiery place. The tip of the claw pressed slightly harder into Helena.

I said you must stay.

“I’m trying,” Helena whimpered. She forced her eye open. She hurt everywhere, but nowhere more than her left hand and arm. It throbbed with white-hot agony. “It hurts.”

It will, the voice responded.

If Helena did not know any better, she could have sworn there was sympathy in its tone.

“Your claw is making it hard to breathe,” she gasped out.

Her chest fought to rise and fall beneath the heavy press of the talon. Helena squinted up and could just make out a towering outline through the swirling smoke.

I am holding you here with me.

“If I can’t breathe, I won’t be able to stay,” Helena reasoned back between gasps.

The voice said nothing in response, but the creature released its claw from Helena’s chest, placing its massive paw on the ground next to her.

She eased herself upright. Her core muscles screamed under the strain to stay there. Helena’s stomach twisted into a savage knot. She vomited ash and blackened blood down her scorched shirt and onto her shredded leggings. With each retch, pain shot through her. Agony radiated from her left arm. Helena held the hand to her face, narrowing her eye at the sight.