Page 16 of The Fury She Holds
“That’s. It?! Why in the blazes did you think I told you not to unleash it? Hmm?” She threw her hands in the air. “What if someone saw you? What if someone finds the welded door? There are no other Furies in the kingdom, Tal.” Sybil huffed in frustration. “I need to think.” She left Talwyn alone with Carrick.
“How long?” Tal croaked.
Carrick left her bedside and crossed the room. “You’ve been out for two days," he said while refilling her cup.
She sighed noisily. She’d been building up her power for weeks, and yet one concentrated use knocked her out. Perhaps she’d used it too soon after her attack on Pochette.
Carrick returned with another full glass and scrutinized the lacerations along her arms and legs. The tunic did little to conceal her bare limbs, but she didn't move to cover herself. Carrick had seen her strip nearly as many times as she’d seen him. Modesty was not a trait afforded to those who grew up owning only the clothes on their backs. “I thought you were a better fighter than this,” he said, handing her the cup.
She ignored his question long enough to finish the second glass and handed it back. “They’re superficial cuts. I left an opening so they would betray their weak side.” She did her best to hold her chin up, but her head fell back against the stone wall. She closed her eyes, wondering if sleep would come once more.
A hand on her knee made her flinch, and she opened one eye.
“Superficial?” Carrick said.
Above his hand, stitches held a long gash together. “Shit. I forgot about that.”
“You’re cut up worse than a pig at the butcher’s, Tal.”
She sighed. “I’m fine. I made it back.”
“Unconscious. You made it back unconscious and only because Faron brought you back,” he snapped.
“Who?” she asked without caring, her eyes closed again.
“The swordsman.”
“Ahh, you mean the dewberry who ruined our perfect rescue plan and then tried to play the hero.”
“I mean the swordsman who pulled you out of the Taralin and carried you through the tunnels until he ran into one of us. He’d been walking for two hours.”
She lifted her head. “Two hours? Damn. I would have left his ass.”
“This isn’t funny Tal.”
She ignored his irritation. “How did he carry me? Over the shoulder? Across both forearms? I wonder if his muscles ache. Serves him right, the dingbat.”
“Tal,” Carrick said, his voice pleading.
She sighed and rested a hand over the one still on her injured leg. “I’m sorry. You had to go, and someone needed to stay behind to make sure you got them out.” Tal and Carrick both knew he needed to go. Both Sybil and Rainier were nearly useless, with Sybil carrying the girl and Rain injured. If either of the twins fell, he would be able to get them back up. Talwyn would have only been able to burn everything to the ground and then pass out.
Carrick sighed and hung his head. “The moment I got them to safety, I went back, but you were already gone. The apparitions and mage had all disappeared. I thought they’d taken you.”
“Hey.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m okay. I got out, and they don’t know where to find me. They probably don’t even know I’m the one they’re looking for. For all they know, I was just a random person trying to help.”
Carrick hesitated. “There’s a reason Sybil told you not to use your element.” Talwyn narrowed her eyes, but he ignored her. “You can join us, Rain,” he called.
Sybil’s brother edged into the room looking worse for wear. His tall form hunched, and his inky black hair hung in his eyes. Sweat glistened on his skin in the candlelight, and blood soakedthrough the cloth wrapped around his torso. He held his side and eased himself into the chair at the table, wincing as he did so.
“Rain, you should be resting. Do we not have any healing elixirs?” Tal admonished.
“So should you. And I’m fine.” He attempted to sit up straight and grimaced, resigning to rest an elbow on the table. “They’re searching for something. The girl won’t say much, but we know the mages thought she had it.” He winced again, shifting in his seat.
“You’re assuming they’re after other Furies? Is that it? We have no proof.”
Carrick frowned. “Sybil saw a vision of you. She can’t make much sense of it, but it has something to do with you, a group of nobles…” he paused, “and the Pyrie.” He met her gaze.
Tal stilled at the name. Pochette mentioned it before he burst into flame. She bit her lip. “What’s the connection?”
