Heir of Iron

Chapter 31: Navran

"Wake up," Kirshta said.

It was like a divine command, impossible and incomprehensible. Pain assaulted him, and rising to consciousness felt like pressing into a hedge of thorns.

"Wake up. You have to go in."

Had he fallen asleep? But he hadn't. The burning of his limbs had pressed him into unconsciousness, to hide from the agony, to wait for death. But death didn't find him. Human hands touched his face. They didn't burn. They were gentle but insistent.

"Wake up," Kirshta repeated.

Navran opened his eyes and screamed.

Kirshta kept his hands on Navran's face, gingerly avoiding the blistered scar left by Ruyam's touch, and a moment later the pain lessened and drained away to be merely agonizing, rather than impossible. Navran gasped for air. Kirshta pulled away from Navran panting, then whimpered.

"I'm sorry. I tried to draw away your pain, but I can't take any more than that."

A groan escaped Navran's throat. "What are you doing?"

"I made bandages from a shirt and wrapped your feet and hands. It won't help with the pain much, but it will stop the bleeding. For the rest, you'll have to use your own strength to get into the city."

"Go into the city?"

"You have to destroy Ruyam."

A groan creaked out of his throat to express his incredulity. "What? I can't." And not just because of the pain, the burning of his soles, or his blistered hand. Even if he could strike Ruyam, he didn't know how.

"You can," Kirshta said. "And you will. He has gone to find the woman carrying the next Heir, but he's gone to his doom. The Power who keeps you Uluriya hasn't faltered yet. If you rise, you will save your people."

"How?"

"By getting up." Kirshta gave him a piercing glare. He pulled Navran's elbow to bring him to a sitting position, then wrapped his arms around Navran's chest. With a heave, he pulled Navran upright.

The soles of Navran's feet touched the ground, and Navran screamed. The pain shot up his legs like an axe driving through his bones. His knees were water and he collapsed in Kirshta's grip. But Kirshta didn't drop him, but pulled him further upright and tightened his grip.

"You have to stand," he said. "Lean on me."

"I can't," Navran sobbed. "My feet---"

"Listen!" He pressed his face against Navran's unburned cheek, and when he spoke he sounded like Gocam, shot through with austere vigor and otherworldly authority. "Pain is nothing. It passes in a moment. Ruyam thought he could cripple you with pain, but you will prove him wrong. Now walk."

He stepped forward. The pain shot sprinter through his thoughts. He collapsed again, but Kirshta pulled him upright.

"Again," Kirshta said. "Stop trying to think. You just need to move."

He took another step. His thoughts shattered with the burning of his soles, but he didn't need them. He stepped again. Kirshta heaved him forward, and they approached the city.

Their approach was slow and agonizing. Pain wrecked him with every pace. His breathing was sobbing and his eyes burned with tears. Kirshta held most of his weight. He didn't look up to see how far away the city was, nor how slowly they advanced. The thought would have killed him. He walked and learned new names for agony.

The gate loomed before them. The doors were reduced to charcoal, glittering white and red with the fury of a forge blast. The guards at the gate were charred skeletons strewn across the road. Did he pity them or envy them? He stepped forward and swallowed the next wave of pain. The houses alongside the gate road were consumed in flame, torches reaching up and scarring the sky with their black smoke. Beyond the road, rose rank after rank of devouring flame.