A Blaze in the Dark (A New Dawn #1)

Chapter 47 - Fox

Is it because I did the unspeakable? It was needed. You would understand. You would have done the same.

When there was darkness, there was no pain. Yet the darkness faded in bright flashes, bringing forth a pain that soared through his body, convincing his senses that the dagger had tore each of his veins apart. In his mind, there was but one thought going round: The marble merchant had acted on orders of King Thomas. Why would he be loyal to a King that wasn't his?

Not even the darkness brought an answer to that question.

Familiar voices resounded in the distance. Two deep ones and a lighter one. Katla, Leo, and Hawk. A piece of leather was pushed into his mouth. He spat it out, only to receive it back. He resisted a second but not a third time, too weak to fight it.

A pair of hands pulled him up, holding him. "Be brave, son. Braver than you have ever been."

As liquid was poured into the wound, he clenched his teeth on the leather piece. The pain in his chest intensified, small pauses a false hope for it to ever end. Another wave of burning liquid crashed onto him. He writhed. His limbs moved out of control, leaving him paralysed in his own shaking.

Leo and Katla were yelling at each other when a third wave hit him. He grew faint in the head and embraced the dreamless sleep that was calling for him. If this was the time for him to meet Mother in the heavens, then he was ready. Anything was better than living in this world of liars and murderers.

The Gods in the Heavenly Halls didn't want him. Not yet. 

He woke up in a strange bed in a foreign room with black curtains, a steady and rhythmic purring snore pulling him out of a zone between life and death, and threw him back to the living. Biting away the throbbing ache, he turned his head towards the noise.

It belonged to Katla. His master was sitting in a rocking chair by the smouldering fireplace, his cheek pressed against a pillow, a thick book resting on his lap. His arm dangled lifelessly, between his fingers a silver chain.

In a reflex, Fox ran his hand along his neck, only to find bare skin and a bandage. Katla was holding his necklace, his fox pendant. That was odd.

"You're awake." Carrying a scroll under her arm, Hawk approached him. "Your master—not so much. I'm surprised he didn't fall asleep much earlier. Hardly ever left your side. It's been over two days now."

"Two days?" he repeated, half of it muffled by a yawn.

"Yes. The Gods are on your side, cub. A few more inches to the right and the dagger would have penetrated a lung. A couple of inches down, and it would have hit your heart."

"It would?"

His breath sputtered as Hawk sat down on the bed, placing the scrolls by his side. Her fingers touched the bandage, removing it. She took the piece of leather—marked with holes and other bite marks—from the nightstand. "Here. It will hurt."

"What are you gonna do?"

His answer came as she conjured a jet of clear blue water in her hand. She blew into the water, sending a miniature-sized gust of wind and rain into the wound. When the pain hit him, he bit the leather with all his might.

Why was Hawk treating him? He didn't understand. It had been ages since she and Katla had loved each other. If anything, they were enemies now."

"I don't hate your master. He angers me in every way possible, yet I find myself yearning for him when he's not near me. There's something enigmatic about him, like he was born out of the rawest and purest form of magic." Hawk exhaled, a puff of hot air escaping her lips.