Enchanter's Echo (33 page)

With one focus on Edmund’s blood flow, another bit on driving home, she yelled for Merida through the healer’s bracelet still around her wrist.

The heart. Get the heart. It’s on my Hopeless Shelf. Hurry. He needs it.

On the other end of the connection, Merida responded with a fast, controlled burst of energy, an experienced healer taking lead on the emergency.

I’m on my way
, Merida stated.
Who’s our patient?

Edmund. Get Bull. Tell him the sentries are after me. We need time to fix him.

I’ll meet you at your shop.

It was too close, too open, too vulnerable to the sentries who would take him away from her and let him die. She must have sent the message down the connection.

Do we have time to hide him?
Merida asked.

The waning of his vibes had slowed but not stopped. He didn’t have much more to lose.

No.

She took the back streets and alleys that only a native Piper would know. More than once the car scraped against the buildings in the tight passages not meant for cars. Oh, and there went a garbage can.

Whittier beckoned. She took the turn with a flash of vibes. Bull was waiting in front of the shop as she squealed to a halt.

“Fucking vibes, Ror. What have you gotten into now?” He reached for Edmund laying in the tiny backseat, partially on the floor from her crazy driving. “Monday, you’re supposed to sit in the seat. Idiot. You eat a lot, man. Good thing. You’re going need a shit load of strength to get through this.” Bull talked to him the entire time, straining to get him unstuck from the tight space, and then cradling him like a baby as he brought him inside and back to the workbench. Aurora cleared it with a long reach of her arm, swiping everything to the floor in a crash.

“Merida’s on her way.” Bull laid Edmund down on the bench.

“Open his shirt,” she ordered, already at her Hopeless Shelf. Of all the places to put a heart...it needed hope and joy, not the used up vibes of cast-offs. Grabbing through the toaster illusion, she closed her hand around the illegal heart’s cloth wrapping. Goddess, she was about to doom him...to doom them all. Maybe he wouldn’t need it. Maybe Merida would be able to heal his real heart.

She turned back around as an explosion vibrated her shop. The sentries were attacking.

“It’s his barricade spells,” Bull explained at the alarm that must have crossed her face. “Just keep working, Ror. Every member of the gang knows how to activate the shields he planted. Monday made them all learn. The man’s got a fucking beast of power inside him. And they circle the entire forest. Hope everyone’s inside.”

“Go get Izzy.”

He shook his head, his expression grim. “There’s no time.”

Dozens of explosions roared through the junkyard. It was like the park bomb again and again.

Merida ran in, her lips tight, eyes hard.

The first cut in his skin appeared while the healer was still on the other side of the room. Aurora reeled back, fighting instinct.
Shield him. Stop her.
Her hands hovered over the cut, shaking with the need to act, to save him from this pain that echoed from his body to hers. Merida was ripping him apart. His body opened to places not meant to be seen. Bones crunched as his ribs broke

“Merida, please,” she screamed the words. “Wait.” Twin sobs jerked from her throat. “Don’t you have to—”

“Too much damage. I can tell from here.”

“Edmund.” She dropped her head to his, her hair draping over him. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. “I love you. Stay with me,” she whispered, begging. She pressed her lips to his, his warmth disappearing, his spark of life flickering. “Please. I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

“Aurora! Keep it together,” Merida snapped. “We’re lucky you were able to keep him alive this long. Now quit laying there and work. Cut the shaft of the arrow as low as you can.”

The sharp orders penetrated Aurora’s fear. She grabbed her cutters and obeyed.

Merida reached into Edmund’s body, pushing her hand between his ribs like an evil witch. Aurora couldn’t do this part. This time she couldn’t even watch. No matter her intention, her power wouldn’t let her damage the body even if it was already hopeless for life.

“Stop pumping his blood.” Merida’s vibes shimmered as she pulled his heart out, slicing it free and stilling his blood with her spells that Aurora didn’t understand.

“Go, Aurora.” The healer’s commanding voice helped her focus even as the bombs got louder. No, not bombs. Spells.

She lifted the shiny, silver heart and slipped it beneath the cracked ribs and among the slippery warmth of his fading vitality. Her vibes shimmered into the metal, and then reached for his lifeforce.

“Are we under attack, Bull?” Merida asked.

Aurora’s mind interpreted the conversation as if she were far away. Dazed but focused, she dwelled in some other world that lived, so wrongly, within Edmund.

“The protection spells have a ceiling component.” Bull said. “There’s nothing but air to muffle their noise, unlike the ones that anchor to the ground. Fifteen more to go.”

“What about the towers? Do they cut off access from the rest of the territory?” Important questions for a healer.

“From the air, yes. But the sewers ought to keep the territory clean since they pump trash vibes to the towers from under the ground.” Bull continued, “He definitely didn’t plan on becoming part of the forest people.”

“I know, I know.” Aurora’s voice was hoarse as she strained to stretch the heart’s vibes toward Edmund’s. “But I can’t let him…” She couldn’t even say it.

“One step at a time.” Merida muttered. “Aurora,” her tone changed, demanding and critical. “That heart’s too small.”

Aurora’s fear leaped high. The air sparkled with her glitter. “I can fix it,” her voice cracked. Her hands shook. “I have to fix it.” Her strident whisper barely fit through her tight throat. She pushed more power through the heart, but her vibes were slipping away. Still too weak, too sick. Too scared. She didn’t want to be alone. Without him.

Bull reached his arms around her middle, her back to his front. He squeezed tight. “You want him, you have to fight for him. You’re strong, little rebel girl. You’re brave. Give him that.” The low, quiet words had a hard rhythm, swirling with focus as if they carried a spell. They beat in time with her blood, with her vibes.

She sucked in a gulp of air, reached for her vibes, and aimed. Channeling her power, her energy, her love for him…she pulled the metal of the heart to thin and grow, coaxing life’s energy to merge with the metal’s enchantment, sizing it and placing it just so to flow into the structure of his own body. One vessel after the other connected, one metal chamber after the other filled and moved until her hands were no longer needed. Just before she slipped her hands out, she tugged the energy of the Rallis bond through the heart. He would never be a rogue. None of her people were.

She closed her eyes and pulled away, her hands dripping with his blood. Her vibes drifted in an airy cloud like a soul freed from its tether. She was paying the price already. She slumped over, laying her head next to his on her workbench. She’d do it a thousand times more if she had to. He was worth it.

Bull wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her, keeping her standing.

Merida’s hands replaced hers on the heart, flowing power into Edmund’s own pieces that needed mending. “One size fits all? I didn’t know you could do that,” the healer stated, matter-of-fact now that the most pressing threat was over.

“Me either,” she mumbled. She stared over Edmund’s shoulder as Merida worked. The healer sealed together broken ribs, stitched muscle and skin with streams of energy until they looked as if they’d never been ripped apart. Scarless. Alive…if only they hadn’t seen him shot.

The healer lifted her hands, as clean as ever. For whatever reason, blood didn’t stick to the healer’s hands. Aurora stumbled away to wash hers in the sink of the workshop’s bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, pale and dull, a smear of blood on her face, but she didn’t dwell, returning to his side.

Merida reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial, poured a pinch of powder into her hand and sprinkled it over his nose and mouth. Aurora automatically held her breath until the sleeping potion had dissipated. His heart needed him to rest, time to secure its place within his body.

Merida studied her. Aurora couldn’t quite read her look. Or maybe she just didn’t want to. By bringing Edmund here, she’d ruined everything for Merida. For Lily. For everyone who knew about the unnatural physique-ers. Her actions would expose them all.

She brushed the back of her hand over Edmund’s pale cheek. “I had to help him. I couldn’t not help him.”

“I know,” Merida said softly. “And I’m grateful that you can’t refuse that call. Because if you could have turned your back on him, that means you could have turned your back on Lily.”

“And Izzy,” Bull chimed in. He carried her stool over and placed it beside her, where she could sit and lay her head next to Edmund’s.

Merida shrugged. “I suppose we’re going to live behind this barricade for the rest of our lives. For however long that may be.” She shuffled over and pressed a kiss to Aurora’s forehead. “I’m going to build a snowman with Lily while we’re still alive.” Doomed words, yet a weight dropped from Aurora’s shoulders, an odd lightness lifted her from within. For a moment, she didn’t understand what had changed. She sat up, prodding inward for the answer. It was her secrets…they’d fallen away. She didn’t have to carry them anymore.

She trailed her fingers along his smooth cheek. Though Bull remained at her side, the world narrowed until it was just she and Edmund. She rested her hands against the heat of his chest, steady breaths pulling and pushing beneath her touch. His enchanted heart beat steady and true.

Unnatural. Tainted.

She’d given him her heart, and with it, she’d handed him the lives of everyone in the forest.

“What happened out there?” Bull asked.

She took a breath and described the scene, his speech, the crowd’s reaction, the gleam of silver in the stand of trees. Edmund falling.

“They were close to you, then. Damn close.”

“If I’d paid attention, I might have—”

“They would have shot you instead. Thank the goddess for the ignorant bliss of enchantresses.”

“Have I killed us all?” she asked, light and distant.

“We have a chance. Fight’s not over yet.” He leaned against the table. “You know, Monday isn’t blissfully ignorant about much of anything.”

She snorted. “Not anymore. He’s going to know everything now.”

“He knows how the world works, and he knows the threats that are out there. We need someone who can protect Lily and Tera, and Izzy. And you. That person isn’t me. I’ve always known it isn’t. I can help, but I can’t lead. With the heir vowed to us, we have a leader. I’ve made sure you don’t have to fight alone. Monday, here, is just gonna have to live up to expectations.”

She shook her head. “I’ve trapped him. Just like I trapped everyone else.” Yet she had no regrets…only fear that their connection was too fragile to bear the heavy burden of the heart she’d given him.

“You gave them all another chance at life. And maybe you’ve set Edmund on his fated path: keeping our people safe.”

“I don’t believe in fate.” She ran her hands over the brand along his temple. His ripped shirt and bloody jacket framed his naked chest, his tie still fastened around his throat. She drew it free, figuring out the knot with ease this time, and placed her hands on top of his heart again, reassuring herself that it still beat.

Bull grunted. “I believe in taking advantage of the opportunities thrown my way. The heir is our best chance at survival. This might work out better than I’d hoped.”

She lifted her head. “What do you mean? You couldn’t have planned this.”

“Not this part. No. But from the moment he kissed you, I knew he was the one we needed to lead the gang. He’s truly one of us now. He defends us. Or he dies.”

A soft knock sounded at the door. Tera stepped in without waiting for an answer, carrying blankets and a pillow under her arm. She nodded at Edmund. “Is he gonna live?”

“Of course, he is.” Aurora answered. Her mind wouldn’t let her consider anything else. Would he want to live? Would he still love her after what she’d done? The unknown answers were a hollow in her heart.

She nodded, her lips turned down. “He makes good shields, even if he’s not a shielder mage. The barricade’s vibing thick, but....” She bit her lip. “The army’s out there, poking at it and circling around the whole thing.”

“The whole thing is over two miles in diameter.” Bull looked at Aurora, informing her exactly what they were up against. “Tera, if the barricade falls, you shield yourself and get out of here. Don’t try to take anyone with you. Just go.”

Tera nodded. She handed over the pillow and blankets and left. Merida took her place in the doorway.

A roar vibrated through the room.

“Sounds like the army’s knocking on the door,” Merida said.

Aurora draped the soft fabric over Edmund and cradled his head on top of the pillow. She bent down and kissed his lips. One last time, she breathed in his scent, darkness and strength. One breath and then another. A tear dripped from her eye and splashed against his skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, preventing more tears from falling. She would not leave her sorrow behind for him to bear. She kissed the spot, erasing its mark, and stood.

“Can I get out of the shield?” Her voice was scratchy.

“I asked him that,” Bull replied. “His answer was a hesitant yes. It’ll be sticky. That’s how he described it.”

“How long will the barricade hold?”

“Against the military’s mages? Don’t know.”

“How long does he need?” Aurora raised her eyes to Merida.

“As long as he can get.”

She needed to distract the military and his family for as long as she could and draw their attention to her so they’d leave the barricade alone. She could do that. She could talk sense into them. After all, the very healer he’d talked about on stage was caring for him. There was logic to giving Merida time to do her work.