Page 150
Story: The Gilded Cage
Zuleeka could have the kingdom.
Just as long as Jaren lived.
His eyes were already fluttering shut, blood gushing from his chest. And yet, at seeing Kiva hovering over him, he still managed to lock his pained gaze with hers, whispering in a ragged, agonized voice,“How ... could ... you?”before he lost his battle for consciousness.
The accusation in his words broke something inside Kiva, but right now she had greater concerns than how much he — deservedly — hated her.
“No, no, no,”she cried, pressing her hands against his wound.
He couldn’t die.
He couldn’t die.
And even though Kiva had nothing left, even though it had taken everything in her to free them all, she still closed her eyes and called to the deepest recesses of who she was, begging for even the smallest speck of power to come forth, torise.
“Please,”she croaked.“P-Please.”
For one terrifying moment, nothing happened.
But then she felt it.
Her fingers tingled, her skin burned — and the golden glow poured from her hands, straight into Jaren’s wound.
Kiva sobbed, laying her head on his bloodied torso, unable to hold her own weight as her healing light flooded him.
She heard another groan from Caldon, sensed him crawling across the room toward them, but she didn’t look, pushing all her remaining strength into her magic until the glow finally faded.
And when Kiva sat up, she sobbed anew at the sight of the wound sealed shut.
But then another sob left her, this one not from relief, but with sorrow as she recalled how Jaren had once explained his power:My magic is a part of me.Like an arm or a leg.
Zuleeka had stabbed him with the Eye of the Gods.
When Jaren woke, his magic would be gone.
Kiva had done that to him.
She might have saved his life, but she was the reason he’d lost his magic.
And soon, his entire kingdom.
He would never forgive her.
Shewould never forgive herself.
“You need to run.”
The dead-sounding voice came from Caldon.
Kiva turned woodenly to him, finding his eyes locked on Jaren’s chest.
“He’s going to be all right,” she croaked, just in case Caldon didn’t realize.
“You need to run,” he repeated, his cobalt eyes darkening to ink. “Before he wakes. Beforeshewakes.” He nodded to Naari.
“I didn’t know,” Kiva rasped, needing him to believe her. “IswearI didn’t —”
“Don’t,”he said, whip-sharp, holding a hand to his bleeding head. “Not right now. I need to — I need to think. And you need to leave before they toss you in the dungeons. Or kill you outright.”
Just as long as Jaren lived.
His eyes were already fluttering shut, blood gushing from his chest. And yet, at seeing Kiva hovering over him, he still managed to lock his pained gaze with hers, whispering in a ragged, agonized voice,“How ... could ... you?”before he lost his battle for consciousness.
The accusation in his words broke something inside Kiva, but right now she had greater concerns than how much he — deservedly — hated her.
“No, no, no,”she cried, pressing her hands against his wound.
He couldn’t die.
He couldn’t die.
And even though Kiva had nothing left, even though it had taken everything in her to free them all, she still closed her eyes and called to the deepest recesses of who she was, begging for even the smallest speck of power to come forth, torise.
“Please,”she croaked.“P-Please.”
For one terrifying moment, nothing happened.
But then she felt it.
Her fingers tingled, her skin burned — and the golden glow poured from her hands, straight into Jaren’s wound.
Kiva sobbed, laying her head on his bloodied torso, unable to hold her own weight as her healing light flooded him.
She heard another groan from Caldon, sensed him crawling across the room toward them, but she didn’t look, pushing all her remaining strength into her magic until the glow finally faded.
And when Kiva sat up, she sobbed anew at the sight of the wound sealed shut.
But then another sob left her, this one not from relief, but with sorrow as she recalled how Jaren had once explained his power:My magic is a part of me.Like an arm or a leg.
Zuleeka had stabbed him with the Eye of the Gods.
When Jaren woke, his magic would be gone.
Kiva had done that to him.
She might have saved his life, but she was the reason he’d lost his magic.
And soon, his entire kingdom.
He would never forgive her.
Shewould never forgive herself.
“You need to run.”
The dead-sounding voice came from Caldon.
Kiva turned woodenly to him, finding his eyes locked on Jaren’s chest.
“He’s going to be all right,” she croaked, just in case Caldon didn’t realize.
“You need to run,” he repeated, his cobalt eyes darkening to ink. “Before he wakes. Beforeshewakes.” He nodded to Naari.
“I didn’t know,” Kiva rasped, needing him to believe her. “IswearI didn’t —”
“Don’t,”he said, whip-sharp, holding a hand to his bleeding head. “Not right now. I need to — I need to think. And you need to leave before they toss you in the dungeons. Or kill you outright.”
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