Page 98 of Galen

Kill, Wrath growled from inside me.Maim them. Punish.

My control started to slip…

“Look at me.”

I focused on Alastair. Blood clumped in his hair, and cuts covered his arms. His hands were stained red too, though it didn’t look to be his.

“We’ll get him back,” he said, grabbing my shoulders. “But we can’t do that if you let Wrath take over. Pull yourself together so we can figure out what to do next. Am I clear?”

The authority in his tone jolted something inside me, pulling me back from that edge. He was right. Simon wasn’t lost to me yet. I could still save him.

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Everyone’s accounted for except for Gray.” Alastair shakily inhaled and turned toward the door. “We… we need to find him.”

I followed him out of the room and down the hall. Raiden sat on the floor with his back against the wall, wrapping his bloody bicep. Bellamy kneeled in front of Daman and doctored a deep cut on his leg. Daman wiped away a streak of blood running down Bellamy’s cheek.

“Gray?” Alastair called out.

“Gray?”I asked, trying to reach him telepathically just in case he was too far away to hear us.

No response.

I closed my eyes and searched for his life force. I envisioned the connection I felt with my brothers like lines of different colored threads. Alastair’s was purple. Raiden’s was orange. Years ago when Kallias died, his black thread had faded and snapped. I refused to lose another brother.

I searched for a light blue one: Gray’s. It only worked if we were in close proximity, which was why I hadn’t been able to locate Castor earlier.

Though faint, I felt a slight tug on the light blue thread and opened my eyes. I headed toward the left corridor, my heart sinking when I saw streaks of blood on the floor.

“Galen?” a small voice croaked.

At the foot of the stairs, propped against the steps, was Gray. He’d been stabbed in the chest, but it was another injury that concerned me. Blood oozed from his throat. He had placed his hand over the wound, and red seeped from between his fingers.

I ran to his side and put my hand on his neck, fear gripping my heart as I used my power to close the wound. Alastair did the same on his other side, both of us putting all we had into healing him.

“I… tried to stop… them,” Gray whispered.

“Shh.” Alastair petted the top of Gray’s blond hair, his voice shaking. “Don’t speak, little one. Save your strength.”

“Alastair,” I said, my chest constricting. “Why isn’t it healing?”

“Come quickly,”Alastair told the others.“We’re by the staircase. Gray is hurt.”

Raiden came down the hall first with the other two close behind him. The three of them rushed toward us and dropped down on the steps beside our wounded brother. They added their hands to ours as all five of us used our healing power on him.

“It’s not working,” Bellamy said, eyes shining as they welled with tears.

“The bastards used a celestial blade on him,” I growled, feeling that stirring of rage again. “Our powers are useless against it.”

“W-Where’s Simon?” Gray asked.

Another punch to my gut. Simon had been taken. Gray was gravely injured.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Alastair told him before looking at Bellamy. “Get me something to place over the wound. Now.”

Bellamy jumped up and ran down the hall, returning moments later with a towel. Alastair held it over Gray’s neck and applied pressure.

An idea struck me, and I bolted up the stairs toward my room. My bloody hands left smears on Simon’s phone as I snatched it up and called the one person that might be able to help. If our angelic powers were no use against the celestial blade, what about other magic?