Page 132 of A Soul’s Awakening

“We will look after them all. Our Circle drawn around them,” the High Prince promised, his voice quivering with false bravado.

Lance placed his shaking hand on Helena’s chest. His stomach dropped as his magic explored the extent of her injuries, her heart and lungs struggling. Sweat peppered his brow, his mouth dry as he fought back the panic that started to rise.

Focus, Len needs you. Don’t repeat what happened at the manor. Remember what she said… what I have is enough. The Merman drew strength from Helena’s encouraging words, his mind racing at what to do next. A lane? A side street? No, this place will be crawling with guards soon. They’d find us, and if I went too far into those alleys, I could get lost. I don’t know Solas well enough. Bright Sun is the safest bet. I can carry her there.

He nodded his head firmly, forcing down his panic, willing his numb limbs to move. Just as he was bracing to swing her up into a cradle hold, Lance froze. Helena was struggling to breathe again. Her chest heaved as raking, laboured coughs spilled from her pale lips.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” He pressed his hand back to her neck, his draining magic flickering as he worked against the swelling. “I’ve got you.”

Eleanor had sprinted through the dim streets, arriving in time to see the King take his final gasping breath. The hooks in her chest and forehead immediately dissipated, the taut lines between them severed. She took her first free breath in weeks. The smoky air filled her lungs, making her cough.

Eleanor’s eyes widened as she charged over to Helena and Lance, terror blooming in her chest. Both were huddled a safe distance away from the writhing Wisp fire, and her mother was laying limp in the Merman’s arms.

She dropped to her knees in front of them. “Mum?” her voice caught in her throat.

The Merman’s hand was flush against her mother’s neck, a wavering glow shining there.

Eleanor’s stomach twisted at the sight of Lance’s failing magic. Their faces met. Fear was etched into the fine lines at the corners of his lips and eyes, tears threatening to fall at any moment.

“Mum?” she repeated again.

The Changeling clenched her fists in her lap as she ran her gaze over her mother’s wounds. Her arm shocked Eleanor the most, her stomach dropping at the sight. She had never seen or read about an injury like it.

Eleanor studied the wound. The Seelie King carries the magic of the Dragon Flame… it must be a wound from that. I know that Lance’s healing magic is usually powerful, but I’m not sure if it’s strong enough to fix this.

Lance withdrew his hand from Helena’s neck as she took a deep, laboured breath.

“El?” her mother rasped. She reached out her grey hand and squeezed Eleanor’s wrist. “I did it, El. You’re safe. He’s gone.” She coughed, her good eye glowing with satisfaction.

Eleanor’s wrist burnt and she hissed at the shock of pain. She snapped it back from her mother’s grasp and inspected it. A dark, ash-coloured mark had appeared where Helena had touched her. The Changeling’s gaze wrenched from her mother’s face and turned to Lance.

“I have to get your mother somewhere safe. Guards could be along any moment.” The words spilled from Lance’s lips. “Her wounds are… the worst I have ever seen. We should get her back to the inn.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement, squashing down the mounting panic in her chest. “Let’s go.”

The High Prince removed his hand from Helena’s throat, and she continued to breathe strenuously by herself. He tucked his arm under the back of her knees. He stood with Helena cradled in his arms, her head rolling against his chest. Together, the Changeling and the Merman began the trudge back to the inn. Eleanor was just a step behind him when her sensitive ears twitched and she turned.

“I know you,” she whispered. Eleanor waved to the Seelie Stallion, who had been watching intently from a short distance.

Lance got a few steps ahead before he turned back to the Changeling, huffing loudly. “El!” he exclaimed. “There will be guards along any minute. We need to get moving, now!”

“Just wait!” Eleanor snapped back.

She approached the stallion with her palms up. The horse puffed through his nostrils, his ears pricking up as the Changeling’s fingers brushed his muzzle. She stood on her tiptoes as the stallion lowered his head. She knuckled his silken forehead, and the horse exhaled through his nose contentedly. Eleanor spread her fingers and pressed her palm onto the horse’s silky coat.

A soft viridian glow left the flat of her fingers and the stallion closed his eyes in bliss. “Can you… can you help us, please?” she whispered, an image of Bright Sun Inn flashing across her mind.

The Seelie Stallion’s quicksilver eyes snapped open, and he snorted. Eleanor’s eyes widened in shock as the animal plodded his way over to Lance. His massive hooves echoed on the cobblestones with each step. The stallion bowed, one leg bent and the other stretched out, lowering the front of his body as close to the ground as possible. The High Prince took a step backwards, clutching Helena closer to him.

Eleanor followed the horse. She patted his thick neck. “Good boy,” she cooed.

She turned to Lance. “Get on.”

“Alright…” Lance manoeuvred his body into a sitting position onto the stallion’s broad back, thighs gripping tightly to keep him in place. He lifted Helena along with him, positioning her just in front of his body, her legs dangling loosely either side of the horse’s belly. Lance wrapped one arm around her middle, securing Helena against his chest, the other hand twisting into the stallion’s mane. “I can’t direct him like this, El…” He looked down from his mount. “…and your mother will fall off if I let her go.”

“That’s okay,” Eleanor replied as she scratched the horse’s thick neck. “He knows where to go. I told him, somehow… I can’t explain it right now. Just hold on tight and squeeze with your knees to get him started.”

“I don’t like leaving you here,” Lance admitted, glancing between her mother and Eleanor.