Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Wounds

I drift for days. My body is healing, but I am so weak.

I fade in and out of consciousness, and only when my need for oxygen grows too great, I come round enough to swim to the surface.

But when my head bobs above the water, I frown. I’m not alone. The coast was completely deserted when Issar and I arrived, but now all around me are ships.

Huge, mighty warships.

They cover the entire surface, as though they are laying claim to the very sea itself.

I shudder, remembering the fishermen that caught me so long ago.

This water is not safe. I am not safe. I go to swim back under, but someone shouts out.

It’s clear that they’ve already spotted me.

I turn, panicking, looking all around me, seeing the men start rushing to the sides, rushing to stare at me.

My heart is pumping in fear. I’m too weak to fight these men. Too weak to do anything. If they throw a net in, if they want to capture me, there is little I can do right now to stop them.

The creature in me rushes to the surface of my consciousness. She takes over once more before I can stop her.

Someone calls my name and I hear it distantly, as though I’m in a thick fog.

The creature screeches in return. It’s a high-pitched, ear-piercing noise that makes every one of those men drop to their knees as they cover their ears.

And then we dive back down. Down into the dark. Down into the abyss below.

We stay there, hiding, lurking, waiting. The ships are still above us. I can sense them now. I can sense their presence in the water.

All the sea life has fled.

There is nothing in this sea now but me.

I’m alone.

***

My wounds aren’t healing enough. Issar must have stabbed through my entire side for me to still be this hurt. The water around me is tinged so much with my blood that I can taste the metallic hint of it all around me.

I swim to the surface again only when I need the oxygen, and I have no choice.

I know they are there, waiting for us, and I bob just above the water, hoping no one will see me.

But they do.

Of course, they do. They have scouts out scanning the water, searching constantly for me.

“Kera,” someone calls, and I turn, recognizing the voice, but the creature doesn’t trust this man.

She doesn’t trust any of them right now.

She is protecting me now.

After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve endured to save her, she’s now trying to do the same for me.

I see him standing on the deck. His eyes are wide in disbelief.

He calls my name again, and this time, the creature screeches back. Just as loud, just as ferocious as last time.

He covers his ears, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. I can see the pain, the confusion there, but I’m still too weak.

“Come back to me,” he yells and I let out a small, almost inaudible whimper before I dive back down again.

***

Sharks are circling. I can sense them. They must have picked up the taste of my blood, and though they aren’t making any immediate moves, as soon as I fall asleep, I know they will attack.

They normally avoid us. We’re not what someone would describe as their ideal meal, but I guess they can’t resist the opportunity when it’s being laid out for them like this.

I wonder if the ships have seen them.

If they understand why this sea that normally would never keep such sea life is now holding three of them.

All circling, all waiting for the right moment.

The creature is unsure now. She doesn’t know what to do.

The water is our safety, our protection, but right now, we are in danger from all sides.

If we go to the surface, these men will take us. If we stay beneath the waves, these sharks will devour us before we can get our strength back.

We are trapped. Doomed either way.

Something shoots through the water. It’s not aimed at me, but I flinch anyway, and my body screams out in pain at the movement.

I see it then, the wooden spear. The sharks disperse for a moment only to swim back seconds later.

Another spear shoots out, and it hits one.

The others disperse again. And the wounded shark thrashes in the water, mixing its blood with mine.

The taste of it is so bitter that it catches in my throat, sticking there, lingering.

I don’t know where the other sharks are now. If they are gone, or if they are still waiting.

I’m getting weaker. Weaker, not stronger. So much so that the creature has retreated.

I have to make a choice.

Do I stay here, under the surface, knowing the sharks will devour me, or do I take my chances once more with the world of men?

I blink, trying to come to a decision.

The sharks will kill me. I have no doubt. But the men? They, too, may kill me if I’m not careful.

I cry out again. A loud screech of despair. I curse the gods. I curse myself too.

And as if the sound has stolen the last of my energy, I begin to rise, floating to the surface, where I lie waiting for whichever death chooses me first.

I hear him shout orders.

He’s far off.

Not on the nearest ship to where I am. All I can do is float. Unable to move, unable to do anything, but just wait.

They lower a small boat. Helos is in it, and I watch as they row so painfully slow toward me.

When it comes up beside me, he realizes that I’m not wearing anything, and he pulls his cloak off to cover my body as he helps me from the water.

But as he lifts me up, I cry out. My wounds are still too fresh. I haven’t healed enough, despite how long I’ve been in the water.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“He stabbed me,” I whisper.

He frowns, staring at my body, clearly wanting to see the wounds, but we both know that lifting his cloak will expose me to every one of the men on board and every soldier watching from the ships.

“Where is he?” he asks in more of a growl than anything else.

“He’s dead,” I say. “The creature lured him in and drowned him.”

His eyes widen for a second and he nods. “You’re safe now,” he murmurs, holding my body to him, cradling me as the rowers bring us slowly to the ship.

Helos calls for a doctor, and carefully, he carries me back on board.

I’m trembling in his arms. It feels like the beginning all over again.

When he rescued me the first time, when his presence was so domineering, so overwhelming that I couldn’t take it.

I let him carry me along the deck, curling up into his chest, ignoring the stares of everyone else on board. He takes me to his cabin and he lays me down before pulling the cloak away.

He hisses when he sees the wounds.

“How bad?” I ask weakly.

He meets my eyes, and all I see is concern. “They’ll heal,” he says.

He grabs a shirt, throws it over my head and shoulders to cover my top half, and then he grabs some jeans, which are far too big, but he yanks them up, covering my lower privates enough for me to at least feel decent.

The doctor hurries in and begins examining me. I shut my eyes. I don’t know if I feel at peace or not, but at least, in this moment, it feels like I can stop fighting for a bit.

“We need to stitch the wounds,” the doctor says to Helos.

“Will that work?” Helos replies.

I realize he’s asking me, not the doctor.

“Yes,” I say.

“It will hurt,” the doctor warns before opening his bag and yanking some items out.

I stare back at Helos.

He’s here. I think it’s only just sinking in.

The doctor gives me something for the pain, and it takes the edge off it, but it definitely doesn’t take it away, only now my head feels hazy.

I try not to cry out as they roll me onto my side, and slowly—agonizingly slowly—he stitches the gouges of my skin back together.

I have my eyes shut the entire time. My hands are balled up into fists. I try not to make a noise, try not to show how much it hurts.

“Try to relax,” Helos murmurs, taking my hand.

I feel the warmth of him; the sensation of his skin against mine makes my breath catch, and I gasp.

When the doctor is finally done, he wraps my waist tightly in long swathes of white cloth, and then, thankfully, he leaves.

I lie there, on what I assume is Helos’s bed, staring at him.

I want to sit up, to face him properly, but my body feels too weak, and I’m afraid to move now and cause any more damage.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

It’s not the most important thing I want to know, but it’s the first thing that I think to say.

“We took the castle not long after you left. We tracked the horses and found them by the water. I made a guess of what might have happened,” he says, moving to sit beside me.

“You guessed I would lure him in?” I say.

“No. I thought he would take you as a way to bring the creature out,” he states.

I sigh.

“I thought she was betraying me,” I admit. “She took over my body when I was too weak to fight. She persuaded him to take her. I think she planned it all along, though I didn’t know until right when it was happening.”

“She was very brave to do what she did,” he says.

I don’t reply because I feel guilty. So guilty. She wasn’t betraying us—she would never have. She was protecting me the way I have protected her for so long.

She calls to me in my head. She’s telling me it doesn’t matter. That none of it matters. That we are safe now.

I blink and then I think of how Issar got hold of me.

“How’s Zandar?” I gasp.

He smiles. “He’s safe.”

“I was so worried they would do something. That they would hurt him or take him as a hostage.”

“You saved him, Kera,” he murmurs, moving his hand to stroke my hair. “You saved my son.”

I shake my head. I didn’t save him. I was the one who put him in danger to begin with. If it wasn’t for me, he’d never know what it feels like to have a knife against your throat.

“And the battle? What happened?” I ask.

He sighs. “We surrounded his army, but we quickly realized it wasn’t his entire army. That most of his skilled fighters were somewhere else.

“We raced back to the castle as quickly as we could, but by the time we got there, you were already gone.”

I nod. It feels so long ago.

“How much did he hurt you?” Helos asks quietly.

I flinch. “Too much,” I mutter, feeling my eyes well.

He pulls me into him, and I ignore the pain of my side to bury my face into his body. I don’t even realize when I start crying, but suddenly, I’m sobbing as he comforts me.

“You’re safe now. He’s gone. You killed him, Kera. You killed the monster all by yourself,” he states softly.

I nod even as the tears continue to fall.

He’s right. ~We~ did do it, the creature and I. We killed Issar together.

“I’m so tired,” I whisper.

“Sleep,” he replies.

His arms are still holding me, and I drift off almost immediately, unable to keep my eyes open.