I hear Pyrkagia screaming. My people wail and rage. For a moment, in my compromised state of mind and body, I think their fury is at me. But there are swords clashing, and Stoicheio swelling, and an answering fury that ignites the atmosphere as if Pyrkagia itself is about to combust.

I struggle to open my eyes. My chest is aching. The stiletto fell out during my final confrontation with Melita, but the wound still bleeds. I am lightheaded. Nauseated. My blood beats sluggishly through my veins.

Then Noah’s voice reaches me. His hands are gentle but urgent. He rolls me onto my back, and I let out a pitiful groan. My eyes flicker open, my breath catches. I shudder as pain consumes my body.

“Easy, your Highness,” Noah says.

And still there are swords clanging and Pyrkagia flaring and my people wailing.

“I have to stop this,” I mumbled.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Noah rebukes.

“Pyrkagia,” I whisper.

“There’s nothing you can do for it now.”

My eyes close on those desolate words. I have failed my people. I don't even know if my actions saved the human. If I’ll reach Casey ever again and bask in her gratitude. Right at this moment, it feels like I have failed everyone.

My father still lives. Mikkos is killing my friends. And the poison is slowly killing me.

“Do you trust me, your Highness?” Noah is saying.

I shake my head.

“Well,” he adds, “you’ve really not got much of a choice in the matter.”

He’s not wrong. I can no longer feel my legs. I try to clench my fist, to determine if I am still holding on to my sword. But I can’t feel my fingers, either.

Noah looks down at me, the night sky full of so many stars behind his head. He holds my gaze for a long moment. So long, I expect at any second for Mikkos to make it through my guard.

“Let him have me,” I whisper.

Noah’s turn to shake his head.

“Not on my watch,” he says, then adds, “She is ours to protect.”

Casey.

I blink up at him, but the pain is too much now; it distracts; makes it difficult to see anything but a haze of red.

“And if she is ours to protect,” Noah says. “Then her sword is, too.”

“What?” I manage.

“Forgive me,” he says, and then whispers, his voice sounding strange, “strychnos toxifera.”

And I feel nothing. Can do nothing. The bastard Alchemist has used a Gi toxin on me to paralyse my frame.

I can see. I can hear. I can think. But I cannot slay.

“Now,” he says, and then I see Hippolytos.

Has the Aeras betrayed me, as well?

Where are Nico and Isadora? Is the Nero monster in on this too?

I struggle, but the effort is only in my mind, my body does not obey. I stare daggers at the two men above me. My vision better now that I cannot feel the pain.

And then Hip’s eyes flash white, and his hand grips my shoulder. Although I cannot feel it, I can certainly see it; fingers digging into flesh.

And then lightning strikes and takes me away.

From the ring of metal on blade, from the swell of Pyrkagia surging. From the fractured camp and my broken people. The Aeras guide takes me away.

I am yelling when we land wherever it is that he has taken me. I swear every curse word I know in English and then repeat them all in Greek. If I could move, I would be swinging fists. Unexpectedly, my sword clatters at my side and the temptation so close but so far out of reach is infuriating.

I growl, low, “I will have the Alchemist’s head.”

It does not occur to me that I can speak. That Noah’s administration of the toxin is so precise. That he allows me the concession of a voice. I keep talking, keep hurling threats that I cannot possibly carry through with. I start in on his family. His mother, his sister. Hell, I even go so far as to call him a son of a cyclops. Then follow that up with comparing him to a sphinx.

“Good freaking God,” someone says. “What have you done to him?”

And then Sonya appears above me, dishevelled, a little blood splattered, but alive. Breathing. Colour in her face.

My mouth hangs open, my eyes blink, and then Noah gently pushes her away.

“He’s dying,” he says.

“Doesn’t look like it,” she mumbles.

“He can’t feel the effect of the poison, but believe me; it’s doing something to him in there.”

“That cow poisoned him, too? Like she poisoned Nico? What a freaking bitch!”

“I’ll need your help, Miss Marin.”

“Like before?”

“Exactly.”

“OK.”

“Not OK,” I say.

“I see you have some fight left in you, then,” Noah points out.

“Where is my cousin?”

“Recovering,” the doctor says. “He only received a scratch, but it was enough for Melita to best him.”

“Melita,” I growl.

“Yes,” Noah says, and then turns toward me with a syringe and needle.

“Don’t you dare,” I growl.

“Really,” he mutters.

“Why’s he able to talk?” Sonya asks. “Nico only glared daggers at you.” She bites her bottom lip. “And me,” she adds, a frown marring her face.

“Clearly a mistake,” the doctor says. “Serves me right for trying to be diplomatic.”

“I’m not sure Theo sees it that way,” Sonya deadpans.

I stare at her, and she shrugs her shoulders.

“He’s on the good side. Not the dark side.” She nods towards Noah. “Really; he’s OK.”

Noah smiles at her and then the smile falls from his face.

“And if he tries anything funny,” the human says, picking up my sword and awkwardly brandishing it at the Alchemist, “I’ll stab him with this.”

I try not to laugh, but I can't help it. I feel so goddamn terrible, and yet Sonya makes me puff out an amused breath.

It is strange to have such a strong sense of relief at having the little human here. To know that she will guard me when I can not defend myself. I acknowledge that despite what has happened, despite what may become of Pyrkagia, I cannot regret my actions.

Even Melita’s betrayal does not touch me so much when Casey’s Sonya flashes her blunt white teeth at a startled Alchemist.

“All right,” I say. “Do your worst.”

Noah huffs, but he doesn't say anything. He simply lifts the syringe towards my neck, making me cringe internally. And then gently slides the needle through the skin and depresses the plunger.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “You’ll be right as rain.”

I suck in a breath. Tomorrow is a long way away.

Where is Isadora? Aktor? I want to ask, but the toxifera or the antivenin steals the words away.