Lying Liars Who Don't Tell The Truth

Chapter Thirteen

I did manage to egress the both of us back to Azhar's apartment, though I wouldn't learn this until hours later when I woke up in Azhar's bed. I tried to sit up but my head, which felt like it weighed about four hundred tons, plopped back down onto the pillow with a heavy thud. I groaned, rolling over to face the window in Azhar's bedroom. It was still dark out, which either meant that I had been sleeping for not too long or very, very long.

I finally mustered up the strength to go looking for Azhar and, after rolling myself out of his bed, still wrapped in one of his blankets, found him slouching back on one of his kitchen table chairs, his leg propped up on another chair and his black shirt unbuttoned to reveal a blackened, bloody mess on his abdomen. "Azhar?" I said, rushing over to him a little too quickly, feeling the blood rush to my head, "Oh god, you're..." I knelt down next to him and he immediately brought his hand to my face, forcing me to look up at him.

"Shush. How do you feel?"

His voice was completely normal. I had to look back to his chest at the bloody mass to make sure I hadn't imagined it. "Azhar," I said breathlessly, "you have a hole in your... you."

"I'm fine," he said firmly. "Did Zorion hurt you?"

I returned my eyes to his stomach, trying to figure out if the wound looked worse than it actually was, given his menial tone. "What do you think?" I muttered off his question. I was beginning to wish Amar would start hitting me with his fancy hexes, as I wasn't sure how much more Azhar and Ansel could take.

"He did stab you once," reminded Azhar, ever the arguer.

"Fair enough," I conceded as my fingers poked the edge of his wound, causing Azhar to flinch and gasp a little through his teeth.

"How do you feel?" he said quickly, trying to cover up his wincing. "That spell, and the egression, took a lot of Power."

"I refuse to answer that question until both of us are hole-less," I said, and before he could berate me for my invented word, I added, "Shut up, I'm tired." I stood, still with the blanket hanging over my shoulders, and began pacing around his apartment, looking for any sign of healing herbs or crystals.

"I'm healing myself," Azhar insisted again.

"What did Amar do to you?"

"Standard stabbing hex," said Amar dully, as if the thought of such a thing injuring him was irritating rather than frightening.

"Why wouldn't he just stun you?" I asked, tightening the blanket around me. "He stunned Ansel..." I trailed off, thinking to myself as I walked back over to Azhar and placed my hand on his shoulder, trying to get a sense for how much Power he had left in him. I watched as Azhar stifled a smile by pushing his tongue into his cheek."What?" I asked.

"I don't need you to heal me," he said, as if my question had never existed, as he pushed my hand from his shoulder.

"Well, I don't know how to potion very well," I said, putting my hand back on him roughly, gripping his skin this time.

"I'm alright, Cora," Azhar said once more, this time attempting to convince me with her stern eyes. I sighed and removed my hand, replacing it on his abdomen and giving his wound a slight push. "Ah!" grunted Amar as his entire body shifted under the pressure.

I pulled back triumphantly and turned away, back to his apartment. "Don't you have any super crystals around here I can use?" When I turned back to him, his eyes were very serious.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice packed with pity.

I shook my head. "Deft topic change."

"Daft," he corrected on instinct.