The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)

73. Friends with Death

Chapter seventy-three

Friends with Death

“ S olveig?” Emmerich’s voice shook as he watched her body jerk, lost in the thrall of her power. The seduction of holding the might of the Wrecked Sea at her mercy.

“SOLVEIG!” He shouted this time, voice cracking with terror as blood flowed from her nose, her whole body shaking, breaths weak and ragged.

Time slowed as Emmerich watched from a step away as she fell. The wave she’d been controlling, now unleashed from its cage, came barrelling for them. He reached to catch her with one arm, narrowly shielding them with a barrier of Aire with the other.

Horrific, wet coughs rattled through Solveig’s chest; Emmerich froze as warm wetness splattered across his face and neck, the scent of iron thick in the air. He stared down in fear at the sight of the princess’s blood pooling from her nose and mouth. Her eyes greyed and unseeing as she fought to breathe through the blood coagulating in her throat.

Emmerich did the only thing he could think of before panic seized him, praying she would forgive him later. His eyes fell closed as he worked, stealing her air, leaving her in stasis. He used every drop of power that wasn’t focused on protecting them from the raging sea to keep her organs fed with oxygen. Carefully he gathered her now still body in his arms and raced back to the dinghy as rain from the incoming storm began to fall.

A thread of calm filtered into the prince’s racing mind as he powered along the pebbled shoreline; slick with rain, and saw the small boat finally come into view. He used all the strength he had left in his legs to race for it. Even as blood, thick and dark, continued to pool and fall from the princess’s mouth and nose. It soaked the front of his shirt and trousers. Mercifully, the flow had slowed down, but he couldn’t be sure how much she had lost or whether it was enough that she might never wake up again.

Once he reached the dinghy, he laid her down as gently as he could, using his pack to cushion her head against the wooden hull. Before pushing the boat out to sea, hopping in behind her once they were afloat again. He set a punishing pace back toward the Valdrych, where he hoped they would find help. They were too far from civilisation to search anywhere but within the limited crew at his side.

When they finally pulled up alongside the ship, a deckhand lowered the hooks toward them for Emmerich to attach, allowing the boat to rise from the water’s grasp. Finally, they reached the gangway, where the prince found Wrenn waiting for them with towels and fresh water. Her smile dropped the moment she caught sight of the prince’s blood-soaked shirt.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t just stand there. Grab her feet and help me bring her in.” Wrenn’s eyes fell on the still princess lying on the bottom of the boat.

“What…” she began again. Emmerich shot her a glare so dark that she promptly shut her mouth. Moving to grab the princess’s feet as they hauled her from the dinghy and safely aboard the Valdrych.

“Ready the ship for immediate departure to Elithiend.” Emmerich commanded, repositioning to take all the princess’s weight now. “And send the healer to my quarters.” he stalked away, but Wrenn followed.

“You’re doing this aren’t you,” she demanded, “keeping her under, keeping her breathing.” Emmerich ignored her.

Wrenn reached out a hand to grasp his arm. “What’s it costing you?” she asked, concern clear in her eyes.

“She could die,” he said simply.

“So could you if you keep this up!” she cried, halting him with a grasp on his elbow. “Tell me what happened.”

“There’s no time.” He wrenched his arm free and carried on toward his chambers.

“Emmerich Ryker Anders, you tell me what we’re up against. How are we supposed to help her without knowing what we’re fighting?” she fired back, bringing him to a stop.

“I can’t leave her,” the prince whispered, staring down at her still form.

“I’m not asking you to,” Wrenn said calmly. “I’m asking you to help us give her the best chance.”

The prince’s eyes closed as he warred with himself, “not here,” he said finally. Knowing that if she ever woke up, she may one day forgive him for stealing her consciousness: her choices. But she was too proud to forgive him for spilling her weaknesses for his entire crew to hear.

The storm battered the Valdrych as the prince, his commander and the ship’s healer worked to figure out the best way to heal the princess.

“You’re sure there’s nothing else?” Wrenn questioned; feeling her weak rapid pulse whilst the healer had their hands splayed over her unmoving, blood-stained chest; their magic unfurling to search for the hidden menace.

“Positive,” Emmerich said. His tone bucked no arguments even as his shaking hands betrayed the blood curdling fear in his soul. “She was magnificent, halting the strongest wave we’d seen in its tracks. Then blood dripped from her nose. At first, I thought it was the strain, but then she collapsed. And the coughing started, and the blood wouldn’t stop coming, it was like…” He paused, eyes blinking unseeing, face paling.

“Like what?” Wrenn pressed.

The prince’s gaze fell upon the princess, hands fisted and shaking, “like how she described the Whitlock’s deaths. Wet, chest rattling coughs, blood pooling and pouring unbidden from their noses and mouths.” His hands flew to his face in frustration.

“Gods fucking damn it. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Wrenn stared sheepishly at her prince as the night of the ball became clear in her mind.

“What?” Emmerich asked, eyes narrowed.

“The night of the ball when she saved you. Her nose was bleeding then. I thought little of it, but now? Maybe she didn’t realise?” Wrenn tried.

“No. She knew,” he cried, head falling into his hands again, this time to hide the tears that threatened. “It’s why she agreed to work with me, because she knew her own clock was ticking, and I was her only chance of survival.” He shook his head, staring at the floor, “I’ve been a fool, a blind, stubborn fool.”

“It’s not all bad,” Wrenn shrugged.

“How do you figure that?”

“I thought she was stringing you along to uncover Elithiend’s secrets. At least this is better.”

“She had so many opportunities to tell me the truth. She let me push her, over and over. If I had known…”

Wrenn dropped the princess’s arm, leaving the healer to their work. “You didn’t,” she whispered, pulling at his arms. “Ifs and buts are useless to you both now. What’s done is done. You didn’t know what danger she was in.”

She seized her friend’s face then. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll stay here.”

“But—”

“The princess will not wake up as soon as you leave the bloody room, Emmerich. Let me take over her oxygen. You’re running on empty; I’ll send for you the moment anything changes.”

With one last glance at the princess lying still on his bed; Emmerich stalked from the room. Leaving Wrenn and the healer to focus on repairing her ravaged body.

As night fell, the Valdrych raced to outrun the storm that had descended on Tempest Cove. For now, the winds that raged as fierce as the despair in the prince’s heart pushed the ship forward. Giving them a head start as they made their way toward Elithiend.

Emmerich stood alone in the crew bathing chamber, eyes lifeless with shock as he washed every drop of the princess’s blood from his skin. He walked over to the saltwater bath, lowering down to soak his aching muscles in the mixture of ground lavender, Gabos leaf and peppermint root. He tried to close his eyes, to rest. To allow his mind and body to heal, but every time his lids fell shut; the terror of seeing the princess choking flashed before them, startling him awake. With nothing left to do, he dragged himself from the tub. Drying off the droplets with a wave of his hand. He dressed in fresh clothes and headed up onto the open deck, to where Commander Bleeker’s second was at the helm.

“Report?” he commanded, voice harder than he intended, edged in lingering fear.

“We’re out running the storm for now.” Lieutenant Garrue stated. “We should arrive at the channel by sundown tomorrow if we keep this pace. How long the weather will hold for is anyone’s guess,” he said, staring up at the cloud drenched sky.

“Have someone on watch. We need to keep abreast of any changes. Rotate them every two hours to avoid any lapse in concentration.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Take a break,” Emmerich said finally. “I’ve got her for now. Go get some food and shut eye whilst you can. I’ll need you at the helm again before daybreak.”

“Aye, Captain,” the Lieutenant repeated before heading below deck as ordered.

Emmerich ran a hand over the smoothed wood of the ship’s wheel, feeling a wave of centred calm take over. This he could do. He could keep his ship and crew safe. Keep his mind occupied as his friend and the healer worked to keep the infuriating woman he had become dangerously attached to; from making friends with death.

Hours had passed whilst the prince followed the faint light of the stars through the thickening clouds toward home. Focused solely on his task. Desperate to keep the anxiety inducing thoughts of the dying princess from invading his mind. So much so that he didn’t see the approaching figure until Lieutenant Garrue spoke from beside him.

“Commander Bleeker is asking for you, Captain.” The prince’s eyes flew to him, stuck to the spot for a moment.

“You have the helm?”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Good, send for me if anything changes.”

He nodded again, taking the helm. Emmerich flew as fast as his feet could carry him below deck to his quarters. Wrenn stood outside the door waiting for him, a forlorn look on her face.

“What is it?” Emmerich rushed.

“She’s breathing on her own now. The healer mended everything they sensed to be injured. You should be there if she wakes up.”

“When,” Emmerich snapped.

“Right.” Wrenn muttered, “When she wakes up.”

Emmerich entered the deathly silent room where the woman who haunted his every waking thought slept soundly, as if she hadn’t almost abandoned the mortal plane entirely. She lay still. The only movement was the rise and fall of her chest. Still in her waterlogged and blood-stained clothes, Emmerich sent for warm water and fresh garments and wiped away every reminder of the horror that had occurred. Until Solveig looked as though she was merely sleeping.