Soulbound (36 page)

Flicking my wrist hard, I cleaned my blade the way that Darius had shown me, by flinging the blood from the metal, and looked around, ready to go again. But to my utter relief—relief mingled with disappointment—most of the Graplars had been either killed already or chased away, reminding me that I wasn’t a Barron, that I lacked their speed. In the time it had taken me to kill just one Graplar, they had taken care of the rest. Slightly disappointed in myself, I turned around, taking in the carnage of the battlefield. Injured Barrons lay all around the ground. Lifting my spirits was the fact that very few of the Graplars that had attacked had survived.

I searched the grounds for Darius, but couldn’t find him among those who were helping carry the wounded inside the now-open gate. It was possible he’d already gone inside, or was patrolling in search of any more Graplars, but the heavy feeling in my chest told me to keep looking. He was here somewhere. I just had to find him. I moved around the battlegrounds, stepping carefully over the injured and the dead, looking for the telltale
sign of Darius’s shocking silver hair. I’d all but given up when a hand closed around my ankle. When I looked down, I realized why I hadn’t seen his silver locks.

Darius was covered in blood.

A deep gash crossed his forehead, flooding his hairline with crimson as he easily bled. His face was ashen.

My bottom lip shook as I knelt beside him. Darius was dying, and he had no Healer to heal him. No amount of herbs and salves could fix this. Tears welled in my eyes and poured down my cheeks. He was dying and I could do nothing to stop it.

But I had to try.

Swallowing my sobs, I pressed my palms tightly against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Blood flowed between my fingers, like water through a broken dam. Darius was broken. Forever broken, and I would never be able to tell him how much I appreciated his teachings, and the risk he’d taken to share his knowledge with me.

My words came out in terrified whispers. “Hold on, Darius. You have to hold on. Please.”

My efforts were useless. No one and nothing could help him now. Darius was paling faster than ever, and the blood was slowly ceasing its flow. I pressed hard on his wound, crying out, begging in whispers for Darius to stay with me, knowing that he’d never be able to fulfill my request. My hands were warm and tingling from the rush of adrenaline I was experiencing. Then, nothing.
The bleeding stopped, and I swallowed my tears, certain that it was over at last.

Darius’s trembling hand closed over my wrist. Shocked, I looked down and met his eyes. How could this be? His coloring was improving. His eyes were open. He was drenched in blood, but looked, for the most part, healthy enough to stand.

My eyes fell on the hand that still cupped Darius’s wounded head. As I pulled it away slowly, my heart picked up its rhythm in a panicky race. Then it all but stopped.

Darius’s wound had healed. It had healed at my touch. There wasn’t even so much as a scar remaining. He was perfectly healthy, brought back from the brink of death by a single touch. My touch. Which meant something that I could barely comprehend, something that sent my mind into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

Darius and I were Soulbound.

But how could that be? His Soulbound Healer was dead. His Trace was black. I knew. I’d seen it. And no Barron can be Soulbound to two Healers. It was impossible.

I searched Darius’s eyes for the shock and wonder and utter confusion that I was feeling, but found only embarrassment and sorrow.

He knew.

Darius knew that we were Soulbound. And he didn’t tell me.

With a shaking hand, I reached down and slowly pulled the fabric of his shirt away, revealing a red Trace on his chest.

Red.

Because we were Soulbound.

Red, like I’d sworn it had been that night in his cabin. Not black, as I’d seen in the training area that day. Had he colored it to fool me?

He parted his bloodstained lips to speak, his voice gruff. “Kaya…”

There was movement just a few feet in front of us, and I looked up to find Trayton. His mask was in his hands, his neck wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. His katana was on his back, a look of shock on his face.

He’d seen everything, and had heard Darius speaking my name. With a trembling breath, I met Trayton’s eyes.

None of us spoke.

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES IN

LEGACY
of
TRIL

BOOK TWO:

Soulbroken