The Way We Fall

Chapter 187 (Tigris)

TW: Mentions of blood

Tigris burst into the infirmary.

"Where is she?" she demanded. No one answered her. Tigris watched Leinos rush around, rifling through various bottles and beeping machines. Verita and Ivie were crowded by a cot, their faces bloodless and grim. Tigris' mind went blank at the sight of all the blood staining Ivie's palms.

She hadn't been sure what to think when Roche had bolted from the war room, looking like she'd faced death itself. As all eyes turned to the fleeing maid stumbling out of the room, Tigris had felt a stab of pity for the inkblood. After her journey with Kairon, Tigris knew that the vision about Moiris had weighed heavily on Roche. Hell, it weighed heavily on her.

Tigris knew, deep down, that Kairon hadn't been lying. If she went to Moiris, she would die. The thought filled her with no small amount of bone deep terror. But she would go to Moiris if it meant saving her people.

But she would need Roche's help to do so. Closing the portal would take an inkblood and a life sacrifice. And Tigris trusted no inkblood more than Roche. She needed Roche, which meant that she needed Roche to calm down and clear her head. Roche tended to be at her calmest when she was alone, so Tigris let her run off. She knew, though, that Roche's panic would not easily be calmed. So she sent Ivie to ensure that Roche hadn't worked herself into a frenzy.

She would have never imagined that the knight would find Roche in such a state. Bloodied and fighting off a strange, leech-like lizard.

At the sound of Tigris' voice, Verita and Ivie jerked away from the bed. Roche's skin was streaked with crimson. Thick, absorbent bandages had been tightly wrapped and taped to her neck. She looked so pale and still that for a moment, Tigris feared she was dead. Then she noticed the steady beeping of the machinery hooked up to the woman.

"She'll be alright, my lady. Her wounds were superficial." Leinos assured her as he moved closer with an alcohol wipe. He rubbed Roche's skin gently, erasing the red. With each new swathe of unbroken skin revealed, Tigris' heart finally began to slow. She jerked her chin at Roche.

"Why is she unconscious, then?"

"She's lost a lot of blood. An abnormal amount for such a wound, but that was treatable. Regardless, the bleeding has been staunched considerably. She should wake soon." Leinos replied, his brow wrinkled.

Tigris nodded curtly, watching Roche's chest rise and fall slowly. She edged closer, carefully categorizing the mud and scrapes along Roche's legs and arms. Her short hair was tinged red, evidence of some kind of head wound that Leinos had treated. There was mud and blood crusted under her nails. Roche had fought back. But Roche wasn't a mere maid. She was the Ala. Why hadn't she simply used her inkblood to fend off the creature? Had it been because Ivie had been around?

Tigris dismissed the thought. With the state Roche had been in, there was no way she would have noticed the well meaning knight following her. So why had Roche been losing the fight?

"Lady Ivie, please report," Tigris murmured, drawing her gaze up to the concerned knight.

Ivie's hands were tight around her sword. Roche's blood had sunken into her leather gloves and now dripped down her rich dark arms. The knight looked uncharacteristically ashen.

"I followed Roche as you requested, my lady," Ivie explained, her voice pausing for a moment. "She raced into the forest. I followed at a distance, as ordered, until I heard her scream. When I got close, I saw a neon lizard clamped to her neck. Roche was having difficulty getting it off. I pulled it off and decapitated it."

Ivie pointed across the room to Leinos' surgical counter. Tigris followed her gaze, blanching when she saw two neon pink lumps on the table. Beady dark eyes stared lifelessly back at her, curved white fangs visible, as if it had died hissing.