Chapter 27

 

Pain ripped me awake. An ache slammed into my temples, my neck, my crown. Inhaling a breath, I opened my eyes a crack. Light streamed in from the window, intensifying the pain. I cringed, covering my face with my arm, yet as soon as I touched my face, more pain shot through my head.

Rolling over, I tried to find some relief, some way to hide from the stabbing light. My pillow. Where was my pillow? I groped for it in vain. Exhausted, my body went slack, my arm slid off my chest toward the floor.

And hit something.

I twisted to the edge of the bed. My head pounded as I did so, but I managed to see the floor. I gasped. There, curled in a ball on his side, was Nick.

My heart raced. The pain sliced through me, and I forced my eyes closed and then open, and looked again.

It was Nick.

Why was he on the floor? Why was he not moving?

“Nick?” I croaked out.

He did not move, and everything was so black around him.

Black.

I reached down, touching the black underneath him. As soon as my fingers met the slick liquid, I realized it was not black at all, but red.

Blood.

Panic overrode pain as I leaped off the bed. I reached to move a bundle of my braids, but they were not there. An image of Gothel standing over me, the dagger in her hand, rose in my mind.

She had taken my hair.

That did not matter now. My bare feet slid in the blood as I knelt next to him. “What happened?” I whispered. Nick’s arm curled around his side and I moved it away as I tried to lay him flat on his back.

I jerked, seeing the hilt of the knife sticking out of his side.

I let out a choked sob, trying to remember if I should pull the dagger out, leave it in… What should I do? My head throbbed as I looked at the hilt. The blade was straight. It would not rip when removed, but should I remove it? Every second I wasted in indecision could be the instant his life was lost. My gut told me to leave it in.

Leaning over him, I listened for his breath. When I heard a faint whistle of air, I let out a cry of relief. He struggled to draw air, but he lived yet. I hoped it would be enough.

I ran, stumbling, to the storeroom and scrabbled for bandages and a bowl. As I grabbed herbs, I tipped the rest of Gothel’s special tea blend into the bowl as well and stirred it up. I also pinched some tea between my fingers and choked down the herbs. I patted my head, sweat pouring out of my brow.

My braid.

Nick’s braid. It was still there, coiled around my head, underneath the ends of my remaining hair. Gothel had not cut it off. How she had missed it I did not know, but I would not start questioning blessings right now.

Nick’s braid would save him.

I prayed it would be enough, for the piece was not as long as the rest–only a couple of cubits. In the room, Nick’s breathing, labored and weak, echoed in the otherwise quiet chamber. Tears poured from my eyes as I brought the herbs to Nick. Kneeling next to him, the blood from the wound still warm and bitter-smelling, I grabbed all the braids on my head, and slid them down. They pooled on the floor and some of his blood seeped into the hair. I tried not to look at the sight as I reached under my pillow for my dagger–still nestled underneath, ready to be used.

Nick tossed his head back and forth, panting, though his eyes did not open.

I stroked his cheek. “Oh Nick.” I placed my dagger with the herbs. “I am so sorry,” I whispered, hating that he lay there, in agony, because of me. “Oh, I am sorry, my love.”

I had to get the knife out first. After I cut the braid I might very well pass out from the pain. I would have only moments at most. I shuddered at the thought of what awaited me, but I had to be strong now. I had to save him before I collapsed into the lure of oblivion.

I bit my lip, grabbed the handle of the knife, and yanked with all I had. It came out smoothly and was not quite as long as I had feared, but a wave of blood came behind it. I pressed bandages against the wound with one hand. Already the blood was soaking through. With my free hand, I slid my braid into my mouth, biting hard on the strands.

The hair tasted vile but I had no time to consider it. I grabbed the other dagger and slid it between my hair and my face. I gritted my teeth and sliced through the hair. The pain made me scream. Nick’s body jerked and my head pounded. A cool black wave waited behind my eyes, but I held on. I could not let him die like this. Not because of me.

As fast as I could, I bundled the hair in one hand and pushed it into the wound. Nick screamed, his eyes opened and he stared at…at something. I hoped with all I had that he saw me. That he knew I was trying to save him.

I pressed the herbs against the hair and continued bandaging his gash. My hands shook, tears poured from my eyes, washing over the wound as I worked. They seeped into the first layer of the bandage and I had to tear strips from my own chemise to bandage him properly. Where the hair rested against the wound, it stuck out like a ball from his side.

Finally finished, I let out a sigh. I collapsed against his chest, letting his heart beat–already stronger and steadier–carry me into the dark.

“I hope you live, my love,” I whispered.