Night Elves of Ardani: Book Two: Sacrifice
Page 15
Novikke whirled to face Thala, but the woman had not moved from where she stood. She stared at Theros. Her sword rested at her side, the tip almost touching the ground.
Novikke grabbed the bottle from Theros’s hand and returned to Aruna’s side. He lay on the ground and his eyes were closed, but he looked up at her when she touched his shoulder.
She opened the bottle and forced its contents into his mouth. He swallowed it obediently, but not enthusiastically. He slowly shook his head at her. Novikke watched the patch of ragged flesh under his torn shirt. Blood continued oozing from it. The wound might have shrunk a bit, slowly.
It was not enough.
Novikke looked up at his face, tears clouding her vision. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
Theros had only gotten to him because Novikke had distracted him too long, keeping his back to Theros. This happened because of her.
This had all happened because of her. Since the beginning, when they’d first met on that road. She’d made him an outcast among his people, gotten him captured and tormented by the Ardanians, and then, finally, she’d killed him.
Aruna’s expression was oddly peaceful. He opened his mouth and said something which she could neither understand nor hear over the wind, and that made her grieve anew, because she’d never know what his last words to her had been.
She looked behind her at Thala. Maybe she had another panacea. Something. Anything. The woman was watching them solemnly through the dark fog, wind whipping her cloak. She gave a small shake of her head.
Kadaki was still standing over the portal, looking on the verge of passing out. She would not have the strength for healing, even if Novikke could pull her away from her task.
She turned back to Aruna, and her hand brushed metal. Her sword—Zaiur’s sword—lying where she’d dropped it beside the empty bottle.
She looked at it for a long moment.
She picked it up, her hands shaking. Aruna frowned at it, then at her, in a tired, vaguely confused way, as if he thought she was going to stab him with it. She had the hysterical urge to laugh.
Someone would stop her if she didn’t do it quickly enough. Gritting her teeth, she took Aruna’s hands, wrapped them around the hilt of the sword, and held them there. Then she pointed the tip of the sword toward herself.
He realized what she was doing a moment before she did it. His eyes went wide. He tried to pull his hands away from the sword, but she held them fast. Before her fear could get the best of her, she tipped the blade upward and impaled herself on it.
The blade broke her skin and then sank in. She tried to gasp, and couldn’t. Her arms shuddered to a quick stop, her body resisting harming itself.
If she could just heal him enough to keep him from dying, they could both survive. She’d take some of his injury for him. They’d spread it between them, each taking enough to harm but not enough to kill. She just needed enough to save him.
She forced herself to push it in farther. The blade burned like fire where it cut. She looked down at Aruna’s body. She could see the bleeding slowing. Flesh laced back together before her eyes. Relief flooded through her. Aruna was shouting something. She saw the shape of her name on his lips: Novikke. Novikke.
Finally he regained enough strength to overpower her, pull the sword out, and throw it away from them.
Novikke doubled over, staring at the ground and struggling to breathe. Aruna’s hands were on her, holding her up, doing something she couldn’t really pay attention to. She felt strangely relaxed, content. Her Panic was nowhere to be found.
It didn’t hurt as much as it had a moment ago. She was going numb. She felt wrong. Her mind was slow. She realized, in a distant, hazy sort of way, that maybe she’d gone too far. She hadn’t meant to kill herself. But it was not so bad a trade-off if it meant he got to live.
Black vapor drifted past her.
Was the roaring finally quieting, or was that just her dying sense of hearing?
Her vision spotted. Dark figures moved near her.
Hands held her shoulders. She heard someone saying her name. She slumped and had the feeling of falling, falling forever.
Ever since she’d first come to Kuda Varai, she’d feared that inevitable moment when the darkness would consume her.
And now, finally, it did.
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The Story Continues
In Night Elves of Ardani Book Three: Invocation. Start Reading...
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About the Author
Nina K. Westra grew up reading books full of magic, adventure, and mythical creatures, but she always thought the best parts were when her favorite characters got to kiss.
Now she writes her own fantasy romance books, and has a love of antiheroes, outsiders, and feminist men.
She lives in the ridiculously beautiful Pacific Northwest, and when she’s not writing, she can usually be found sipping coffee and reading something from her ever growing To Be Read list.