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“No, not yet.”

“You can’t even stand up straight.”

“A bit more,” I plead. When Numair presses his lips together, I add, “I have to do this. He’s still too weak.”

“I ain’t telling him you died trying to heal him.”

“Then tell him it was Evanae’s miracle.”

I don’t wait for his permission. I’m a princess, a rebel, a binder of ethera. I can do what I please.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. The pain is tearing me apart, but I push through it, searching for Valdus’s energy. It’s still fading. He’s too weak to fight back.

I push my energy again, it flows with ease, leaving my body and seeping into Valdus’s. A sparkle of light is but a dying ember, but I keep fueling it up with my energy, despite all the pressure building behind my eyes.

A wave of nausea comes so strong, it’s ready to knock me down, but I anchor myself to Numair, holding me up straight, to Valdus’s skin beneath my fingers, to Inara’s rapid breaths as she dresses the wound.

I can sense the light in Valdus’s body flicker and dim again. I have to clench my teeth over my tongue for the pain to jolt me awake. As I start the flow of energy again, it’s fighting me, resisting my command. Just like it did when I first used it.

I won’t back down.

Despite pain and nausea, the fatigue and feeling out of breath, I push again with everything I’ve got left. Valdus’s veins ignite with iridescent energy, his heart pulsing in a steady beat.

My eyes flutter open when I choke and spit blood. Another broken gasp, and my lungs refuse to take another breath.

25

The pain is crushing my skull even before I open my eyes. I have barely enough time to lean over the bed before bile rises to my lips. Someone pulls my hair out of my face as I retch my insides out in a bucket thoughtfully left next to my bed. Heaving, I fall back on the pillows and stare at a ceiling I don’t recognize. Light filters through a window at the end of the room, much too bright for my sensitive eyes, and I shut them tightly, fighting the nausea building up again.

“You’re finally awake.”

I wince as Inara’s sigh reverberates through my skull.

“Err…Ha…How.” I have to start a few times before I finally croak an answer through my dry lips. “How long?”

“Two days,” she says, her voice sharp. “Do you know how worried I was?”

“Please,” I mutter, pressing my hands to my temples, willing her to lower her voice.

“Please, what?” she cries even louder. “Do you know how irresponsible that was?”

I shut my eyes as another wave of nausea hits. I lean over the bed, heaving, spitting, but there is nothing left in my stomach twisting with pain.

Inara helps me lie back again when my breaths calm down.

“Valdus?” I grunt before she can start scolding me again.

“In a much better shape than you. At least he hasn’t stopped breathing.”

My eyes dart around the room. A small cupboard, an armchair and an old table have been my companions as I lay here unconscious. The rusty smell of alcohol and blood lingers in the air, but this isn’t where we treated Valdus. Nor is this the place I started calling home.

“Where are we?”

“Still at the laboratory,” Inara says. “We were worried it would be catastrophic to move either of you.”

“Where is Valdus?”

Inara motions to a place only clear to her. It’s only now that I notice dark circles under her eyes. She must have spent every waking moment by Valdus’s bed. Maybe even mine.