Page 111 of Far From Sherwood Forest

Will staggers, the fletching quivering from where it sticks out from his stomach. His face contorts in pain as he stumbles backward. Robin catches him, and they both go down onto the stone floor.

The knights surround Prince John, taking the bow from him and slapping his wrists in irons.

“Get him out of here!” the king shouts.

As they drag the prince out of the throne room, he continues ranting hysterically, going from pleading to sneering and back again. I don’t pay attention to any of it because all of my focus is on Robin as he supports his cousin’s head in his lap.

I rush over, my sword clattering to the stone as I drop to my knees on the other side of Will. His breaths are shallow and ragged, each one like sand slipping through an hourglass.

“Will, you fucking idiot.” Robin’s voice cracks and breaks as thick tears well in his eyes.

“I told you I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Robin,” Will says, his own voice weak and shaky.

Robin’s entire body hitches with a sob.

It’s a strange feeling to experience this ache blooming in my chest at the sight of Robin in anguish while simultaneously feeling relief that he’s alive. That it’s not him lying on the floor with an arrow in his gut.

The rasp of Will’s breath mixes with the hammering of my own pulse. The arrow sticks out from his lower stomach, a little to the left, and I know better than to pull it out.

“Take off your cloak,” I tell Robin.

He does, handing it over. I wrap it around the shaft of the arrow and apply pressure, drawing a choked scream from Will.

Maybe I should let him die. It’s his fault Marian is dead. Then again, maybe the prince would have just found anotherway to do it if Will hadn’t been so easily manipulated.

He saved Robin.

As far as I’m concerned, that absolves him of his sins.

Lifting my head, I yell as loudly as I can. “Ivy!”

I don’t know if she’s listening. I don’t know if she can hear me. But I’ll be damned if I just sit back and let Robin lose someone else.

Ivy appears right beside us in the middle of the hall seconds later, a flowing dark green robe draped over her shoulders. Her black hair is a foot longer than it was yesterday, more braids scattered throughout. She seems to fit better here. The Spirit of Sherwood Forest.

“Ivy, please,” I beg her while I continue applying pressure around the arrow. “Use your magic and save him.”

A frown etches deeply on her face. “I can’t do that, Henry.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

It’s like I’ve completely forgotten that the throne room is crowded with knights and courtiers and the king himself. I don’t give a fuck what they think right now or that all their eyes are on us.

I take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt at some semblance of calm. “You healed my injuries from your goddamn bear. Why can’t you heal him?”

“Those were wounds inflicted by magic,” she answers. “So they could be healed by magic. That’s not the case with this. I don’t have that kind of power. I’ve told you my magic has limits.”

There goes my other idea to have her keep Robin from getting sick as often back in our other world.

I look away from her in time to see a tear slide down his cheek as he stares down at his cousin.

“There’s gotta be something,” I mutter desperately.

John—Little John, not the prince—pushes his way forward past the knights surrounding the king. “A hospital,” he says.“Back in that other place. He’ll have a better chance there than he does here.”

It makes sense he would be the one to think of that considering all the times he probably took Robin to one.

I look back at Ivy, pleading again. “Can you take him there?”