Chapter
48

Aodren

THERE IS NOWHERE ELSE FOR US TO GO EXCEPT Katallia’s burned and sooty home. After gently removing the blade, the women carry Britta’s body to the one bedroom that didn’t sustain much fire damage. The sheets are quickly changed and she’s laid down, a ghostly pale version of the vibrant girl I’ve grown to love.

I stand in the doorway, wanting desperately to help and feeling completely useless.

The four girls who were restrained are brought in alongside Finn. They’re each given a makeshift bed just outside Britta’s room and Beannach water. Though all of them look in poor condition, the Channeler women examine them and conclude the girls will make a full recovery. Cohen, who has shifted from Britta’s side to Finn’s and back again, expresses his gratitude to the Channelers but doesn’t appear any less upset than when we walked in the home.

He looks at Britta and everything in the man’s face crumbles.

Later, I’ll have time to mourn Omar’s loss. It’s too much to process. I’m numb from all the death today.

As I watch Cohen at Britta’s side, I feel like an interloper. But I don’t want to leave the room. I cannot lose one more person in my life.

Cohen touches her neck and her wrists. “She’s gone,” he says over and over again, ripping at his hair.

If I wasn’t connected to Britta, I might think the same. Her muscles are slack and her skin is the color of a gray winter day. But beneath her exterior, there is a line that connects us. And though it’s a single thread to the swath of material it was before, I still sense her. “She’s alive. Barely.”

“You brought Omar back from the dead.” Cohen’s voice is rattled with defeat as he looks to Seeva and Katallia. “Can you do the same for Britta?”

“We can try,” Katallia says. “But we are missing our fourth. All elements are needed to start a body on its way to healing.”

“Orli can do it,” Lirra says from the doorway. She wicks away a tear. “She’s an earth Channeler.”

“She hasn’t done this sort of healing before,” Katallia argues.

“Please try.” Cohen takes his eyes off Britta to look at each one of the Guild. He wears his anguish plainly.

Katallia gives a reluctant nod, and Lirra leaves the room to talk to Orli. She returns a moment later with a brunette girl in tow.

The women assemble around the bed, each placing her hands on Britta’s body. After she’s instructed, Orli follows along. Their eyes close and their heads bow. Seeva lifts her face to the ceiling and chants, “Gods of old, grant us the energy to give this girl, that she might walk again in this world.”

Hope rises inside as the women begin a collective chant. Orli, who is newer to the group, stammers but catches on.

The good feeling plummets the moment the women’s eyes snap open and they shake their heads. “She has lost too much life.” Seeva’s fingers run over Britta’s forehead. “Only a Spiriter could heal her.”

Cohen drops his forehead to Britta’s hand, his shoulders silently shaking.

“I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be long.” Seeva bows her head.

I edge closer to the bed, wanting to say my own goodbye. I walk to the opposite side of the bed, to give Cohen space, though I doubt he knows I’m here. He must hate me. I would understand if he did. I shouldn’t be here with her. I run my finger down the length of her arm to say goodbye. When I touch her wrist, her line of energy squirms. It takes me by surprise. I give in to our connection and reach for the exit wound on her belly. My stomach churns at the amount of blood coating her dress. Just before I withdraw, her energy stirs beneath my fingers.

“That’s it,” someone whispers. The dark-haired girl stands at my side. Her eyes are round.

“What’s that, girl?” Seeva moves closer, looking over Orli’s shoulder.

“I think they’re connected.” Orli points to me.

Seeva’s eyes widen. “She has given you her life force?”

I nod. “A little more than six weeks ago, she saved my life.”

Seeva’s hand covers mine. “If her energy is connected to yours, you can use a rune to guide her energy toward her wounds.”

I shake my head, not understanding.

“If she healed you, her energy is in you, reaching for home. Only a rune can release it. You must’ve felt it before, yes?”

I nod in shock, understanding for the first time why I could always sense Britta’s nearness.

Cohen is suddenly at my side, his expression shifting from shock to awe.

“Give me your wrist.” Seeva holds out her palm.

I rest my arm in her hand. She dips her finger in Britta’s blood and draws a circular pattern on my arm. I resist the urge to wrestle from her grip. There’s nothing natural about having someone’s blood painted on you.

“Now let your connection guide her energy to where she needs it most.” The Channeler moves my hands over Britta’s wounds. Beneath my palm, it feels like a thousand tiny ants are marching to work. The rune blazes wherever it touches more blood. I stay still, doing what the Channeler says as the other three Channelers surround Britta.

Torima wraps her hand around Britta’s wrist while Seeva holds Britta’s head. Orli and Katallia place their hands in different spots on Britta’s body. They chant words I’ve never heard before, continuing until all four have shortened breath, perspiration on their brows, and shaky hands. My body grows weaker by the minute. I slump into a chair and rest my head on the bed beside Britta, needing sleep, despite my brain’s desperate attempts to stay awake. To heal her.

I may have fallen asleep, but after a while, Seeva lifts my arm off Britta.

One at a time, the women touch their chests, dip their heads, and say, “Go well with the spirit.”

I watch them leave, panic creeping back into my numb arms and legs. Britta’s eyes are still closed.