Page 116 of Harbinger

I tighten my arms around Bishop’s body.

“I can’t leave,” I whisper. “I never should have left.”

That’s how this all started. I can’t let it end that way, too. Because if I let go of Bishop, this becomes real. If it’s real, then Kieren is gone, too.

Her jaw clenches. “We’re leaving. Now.”

I sink closer to the ground.

“This is where I belong. With them.” The words come out flat and distant, sounding like they belong to someone else.

Vessica’s gaze darts to the cloaked body at my side and narrows with recognition. Her expression shifts slightly. It’s not quite pity, but the edge of her annoyance dulls. “You can’t help them. Now get up.”

I stare at her for a long moment, searching for something—some mercy or reassurance that I can cling to.

There’s none.

My arms loosen inch by inch, like I’m lowering something fragile instead of letting go. The cold rushes in, erasing the last traces of his warmth on my skin. Vessica holds out a hand, and I clasp it, allowing her to haul me onto my feet. Instantly, pain ricochets up my legs, and I stagger a step.

Vessica catches me before I collapse. “Be careful. You’re burned,” she says, glancing down at my boots and the blackened hem. Her gaze travels up to my torn-open clothing and exposed skin above the deep vee in Bishop’s tunic, and anger flashes across her face. Her grip locks, like she’s imagining throats under her blade. “We’ll deal with that later.”

I look down to discover my pants scorched and half melted, the skin beneath raw and oozing.

“I’m okay,” I mumble, trying to pull away from her.

But Vessica doesn’t release me.

“Just let me help you,” she says too smoothly. Even now, she is fury packed into a tight, disciplined shape.

She keeps one arm locked around my waist but reaches out to pull Bishop’s tunic closed. Her hold on me is a vise grip as we move through the trees as though she’s afraid I might dissolve if she loosens it.

I stumble more than walk, each step more agonizing than the last.

Vessica notices. “We can slow down,” she offers, “or take a break.”

I don’t deserve a break. I deserve to be lying dead back in that clearing.

“No.” I grit my teeth and push on. “What is he going to do with the …”

I can’t bring myself to say the word bodies, but it echoes in my brain like the men’s chant. Another fact of life that I can’t escape any more than the raven-mark on my chest.

“He’ll take care of it.” She shifts her hold on me, trying to support more of my weight.

“Kieren.” My heart cracks when I say his name. “Can we bury him?”

“We don’t leave our dead in the dirt. I’ll talk to Bishop—” She flinches, realizing her mistake. “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

I don’t press for more. She has her own grief to manage—her own body to bury.

Trees give way to the road. We’ve cut through the forest at an angle, and the bridge to the estate looms ahead, a heavy mist blanketing it. Beyond, Miradores rises like a gravestone out of the fog.

The door flies open before we reach it. Lenora stands in her nightclothes on the threshold, and her face crumples the instant she sees me.

“Stars preserve us,” she whispers. “What—”

“Get Hadrian,” Vessica orders, already steering me inside. “Now.”

Lenora doesn’t argue. She gives me one more horrified look and disappears to fetch him from his chambers off the library.