Her scream echoed in the falling darkness. She jerked back. My head slipped, slamming against the stones littering the ground.
“Why aren’t you hurt?” she hissed.
“Iamhurt.” Really feckin’ hurt.Owww. I rubbed my sore skull, certain a lump would appear at any moment.
“Not yourhead,you fool. That man stabbed you.”
“Did he?” My pathetic attempt at levity earned me another scowl. “I should think the answer to your question would be obvious.”
She thought about it for a moment, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Your magic did this?”
Of course it did. What else would it be?
I nodded.
“Can it heal others as well?”
“Why? Did they hurt you?” Her face, though smeared with dirt and tears, didn’t look cut or bruised. Her neck still bore the grime from that bastard’s hands. Was she in pain? I didn’t have it in me to heal her yet, but in a couple of hours, after some food, I’d give her everything I had.
She took my hand, pulling me to unsteady legs. “Not me. Padraig.”
It took a moment for the words to register.
“Keelynn . . . Stop.” I couldn’t do anything for Padraig. My eyes flew to the dagger at Keelynn’s back, visible now that her cloak had been removed.
That wasn’t entirely true. I could give my life in exchange for his.
I wrenched my hand free, nearly stumbling into the high cross. A mound of dirt and loose rubble rose beneath it, a black flat cap laid at the top.
She’d buried him.
“Padraig didn’t deserve this.” Tears glistened as they fell from her eyes. “You have to heal him. You have to bring him back. I’m asking you to try. I’mbegging.”
“No.” I couldn’t do it.
“But he’s one of you!”
She knew?
What was I saying? Of course she knew. When Padraig died, the glamour would’ve been removed. She knew the truth and had buried him anyway. Mourned him anyway. “Keelynn . . .”
I reached for her, my own heart breaking. I’d lost countless friends to senseless violence. The pain would ease but never heal.
She jerked away, betrayal written all over her pinched features. “Don’ttouchme.”
How did I make her see? Make her understand? “I don’t care if he’s a human or a leprechaun or a feckin’ dog,” I said. “Life left Padraig the moment that dagger pierced his heart. This isn’t a matter of healing, it’s a matter of resurrection.” And I wasn’t able to say that I couldn’t bring him back without the unforgiving pain of my truth curse stabbing my skull. I could bring him back. All I had to do was let her stab me with that cursed dagger and trade my life for his.
If it came down to the two of us, I knew which one she would choose.
I couldn’t do it. Padraig may have been a far better man than I, but his death affected one person. Mine would bring Tearmann to its knees. “I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”
Her shoulders drooped as she stared at her friend’s final resting place.
“We need to get out of here in case the man who killed him returns.” When I was back to full strength, I’d find him and make him pay for what he’d taken from her.
In my current state, I was no good to anyone.
Keelynn didn’t balk when I took her hand. Although her fingers were cold, warmth spread from her body to mine, buzzing with that strange fire I’d felt every time she’d touched me.