The Curse of the Blessed

Chapter Forty-One

I awoke in darkness.

Or... almost darkness. Light filtered through the grey walls, just enough that I could see. The room seemed familiar. I blinked. It hit me.

I was back on the Calamity again.

Only, how was I here? The last thing I remembered was the black dots multiplying across my vision. The last thing I remembered was the conversation with the deathbirds.

I sat up and pushed myself to my feet, crossing the room. The door swung open at my touch.

"I would let her rest a bit longer before you go in to wake her."

The voice was Sharla's, and it came from around a corner a little ways ahead of me. I hesitated but began to walk that way.

"We don't know what she even did that saved Brinley. The amount of magic it must have taken..."

"I know." Bran's voice. "I'm worried about her. What if she doesn't wake up?"

I rounded the corner. Bran, Lark, and Sharla stood huddled together in the middle of the hallway. Sharla's back faced me, but I could see Lark and Bran's faces, and they looked worried. Bran's eyes grew wide as he spotted me.

"Fyra! You're okay?"

Sharla whirled around and stared at me. There was a short, awkward silence.

"So..." I said, searching for something to say to break the oppressive quiet that had settled around us. "Is Brinley all right?"

"She's great," said Sharla, in a tone of disbelief. "Her wound is already almost healed. What did you do for her?"

"I asked the deathbirds to save her."

Lark frowned, and wrote, "Why would the deathbirds be able to save her?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"But," said Sharla, "obviously, they did. Maybe there's more to them than we think."

"They can sense death," I said. "Maybe that's because, somehow, they are Death. Or they're servants of Death. Assuming Death is a person, like in myth, which maybe he's not."

Sharla grinned. "Sounds complicated."

"Yeah," I agreed. "So, how long was I out?"

"A little over a day," said Bran. "We were terrified that you'd overused your power."

"Can that happen?"

Sharla nodded. "Sometimes it can send Blesseds into a coma. Most usually don't use their power enough to do that, though. Most have enough sense to know when to stop pushing their limits."

"Hey!" I frowned. "I've got sense!"

"Then why did you try to bring someone back from the brink of death using only willpower and the strength of your not-particularly-strong blessing?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Oh, I said it."

"But I'm still going to pretend you didn't."

Sharla huffed. "Fine. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I said. I'd been too confused and concerned to think about it until now, but my stomach was twisting and gurgling within me.

"I'm not surprised." Bran crossed his arms and turned, following Sharla, who'd begun to walk in the general direction of the dining hall. "You've missed about three meals. Four if you count breakfast, but it's about breakfast time right now, so I'm not counting it."