It had been the best kiss of her life. Nothing tepid or boring about it.
Suddenly, he stopped walking, and she barely avoided running into the back of him.
“Someone managed to disable a perimeter sensor.” He pointed to a tree.
Poppy spotted the small, mangled piece of tech that had been gouged out of the trunk.
He crouched. “The scent’s stronger here.”
She scanned around, testing her new enhanced senses. Then she heard a faint sound to the left. What was that? “The tracks?”
“They end here.”
She swiveled. She felt a knot in her chest and rubbed it. “I…sense something.” She followed the tug and ducked low under a hanging branch.
As she rounded the trunk, she spotted the blood-covered, young man slumped against the trunk.
“Brodin!” she cried.
Together they rushed to Fillian.
They both crouched and Brodin touched the young man’s face. His chest was covered in stab wounds.
Brodin growled. “He’s alive. Barely.”
Poppy’s belly did a sickening circle. The poor, young man was so hurt. For a horrifying second, she was a girl again, watching her young sister get crushed by a piece of farm equipment. Lo’s blood had soaked the ground.
She blinked. No. This wasn’t Lo, and Fillian wasn’t dead. They would help him. “We need to slow the bleeding.”
Nodding, Brodin pulled what was left of Fillian’s tattered shirt off him, balled it up, and pressed it against his wounds. The young man groaned.
“Stay with us, Fillian. It’s Brodin. I’m here.”
“E-Emperor,” Fillian whispered, his eyes still closed. “Dreaming.”
“I’m here. Stay with me.” Pure command vibrated through Brodin’s voice.
Fillian didn’t respond, but it seemed to have an effect. The young man pulled in a shaky breath.
Brodin leaned in and sniffed. “I smell something…wrong.”
She smelled it too. A sweet, garlicky scent. Frowning, she checked the young man’s hands. His fingernails had a green tinge.
She gasped. “Brodin, I think he’s been poisoned.”
Brodin’s hard jaw flexed. “He needs the healers. We’ll—”
Fillian’s eyes popped open, and he sucked in a harsh breath. He let out a broken cry.
“Fillian, it’s Brodin.” His voice throbbed with power and authority.
The young man’s gaze moved around, blurry and sightless. He made more terrified sounds.
“Fillian!” Brodin gripped the man’s shoulder. “You’re safe. I have you.”
Poppy shifted closer and took the young man’s bloodstained fingers in hers. “Brodin will help you. You’re safe.”
At the sound of her voice, his noises stopped. He turned his head toward her.
“Keep talking,” Brodin murmured.
“Fillian, I’m Poppy. I know how it feels to be hurt and scared. It’ll be okay now.” The man squeezed her fingers so hard she winced, but she didn’t let go. “You’re safe now.”
She sensed Brodin rising.
“We’ll get you home,” she said.
“Home,” Fillian whispered brokenly.
Suddenly Brodin cursed. “The stab wounds have trillis embedded in them.”
“What’s that?”
“A local metal mined on Damar. It’s toxic to our system, but a necessary component of our power generators. Trillis combined with the poison is keeping him weak and in agony.”
“Can you get it out?”
He shook his head. “The healer has to do it. Fillian, we’re taking you to—”
“No!” Fillian squeezed Poppy’s fingers so hard she felt one break.
Poppy bit her tongue, trying to keep from crying out. She didn’t want to traumatize him even further.
“Fillian, I’m going to take you back to Accalia. To your family.”
Brodin’s deep voice seemed to calm him a little. The air was sawing in and out of his chest. His eyes had a green film over them.
What had the warlord done to him?
“Fillian, let Poppy go now,” Brodin said.
“Stay with me,” Fillian croaked.
The man squeezed her broken finger and her vision wavered.
“I’ll carry him,” Brodin said.
She nodded. “I’ll stay right beside you, Fillian. I promise. Brodin is going to carry you.”
The young man finally released her hand. Wincing, she quickly hid it.
Brodin lifted the injured Damari into his arms.
“Keep up,” he told her.
He took off into the trees at a quick jog. Poppy followed and focused on staying close to him.
She realized how much he’d held back when he was running with her earlier. If he could move this fast with Fillian in his arms, he could probably run much faster.
A sharp whistle and two fit Damari raced out of the trees. They had to be a patrol.
“It’s Fillian,” Brodin said. “He needs the healers. There are broken perimeter sensors—”
One of the men gave a sharp nod. “We’ll take care of it, sire.”
Brodin and Poppy kept moving quickly through the forest, and then she picked up sounds—conversations, the squeak of equipment, the bark of some creature.
Moments later, they joined a path leading into Accalia.
Brodin didn’t slow down until he reached the infirmary building. Poppy hurried ahead and opened the front door.
Inside, a young healer leaped up from her desk.
“Get Cassanra,” Brodin barked.
The healer nodded and disappeared.
Brodin strode into a room and set Fillian on the bunk.
“Poppy!” the young man yelled.
“I’m here.” She stroked his hair, conscious of Brodin watching her.
Then, Cassanra and her team of healers burst into the room.
When the older woman saw Fillian, her eyes widened and filled with relief.
“Trillis wounds, and some sort of poison,” Brodin said.
“Theda, scan him. Norden, get the trillis extraction kit. Someone get the emperor some clothes.”
The healers sprang into action and soon they were busy treating Fillian. They scanned him with a handheld device and gave him some sort of medicine. His body went lax. Poppy was so relieved that he felt no more pain.
She shifted to the edge of the room. No one even looked her way.
She slipped out, found a chair in the front waiting room, and let out a breath. She tried not to feel too embarrassed about the fact that she was only wearing a long shirt and panties. The Damari were used to nakedness, so her bare legs wouldn’t even get a second glance, but it still felt weird. She gingerly flexed her sore hand. Her ring finger lay at a slightly odd angle, but she thought it was a clean break.
The front door burst open. The young, redheaded woman she’d seen in the market with Brodin flew in, followed by an older couple. The woman had faded-red hair, and the man was built big and had Fillian’s eyes. This had to be his family. Other Damari filed in behind them.
“Where is he?” the older redheaded woman demanded. “Where is my son?”
Poppy pointed.
They all disappeared into the treatment room. She heard wailing and sobbing. Then she heard Fillian scream in pain.