“I got her. You can pull us the rest of the way up now.”
The voice was deep. Male. The arms were strong.
But it wasn’t Jotahan.
“I think she’s coming around,” the voice said, close enough to her ear that she flinched as the volume of it shot more pain through her skull. “I just hope she doesn’t struggle and end up punching me on my wounded side again,” the voice muttered in a much lower volume.
Sarah closed her eyes tight, turning her head away from the one who held onto her as she was pulled out of the shaft. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
I’m so sorry, Jotahan. I will never forget you and I will always love only you. Fly free, and someday, my spirit will find yours again, even if I have to burn with you forever in the Inferno. I swear it!
41
“Sarah.”
Jotahan! The sound of his voice made her heart break. Would she never reach a point where it no longer haunted her dreams?
“I need you to come back to me, Sarah. Please.”
Oh, Jotahan! I will find you again someday. I promise. My soul won’t rest until I do.
“I can’t go on without you, my drahi. Nothing else matters to me but you.”
Please, my love, please stop calling for me. I don’t know how long I can resist the urge to follow you. She said you would fly free once you were in the Inferno, but you still cry out for me, endlessly, and I want to find you.
“Sarah,” his voice seemed so close to her, ragged and hoarse like he’d been screaming for hours. “I don’t know how to fight this enemy. I don’t know how to get you back. I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost.”
No! She would find him. He needed her. They needed each other. Seta Zul had been wrong. Jotahan loved her as much as she loved him. Setting him free had not helped him. It was hurting him. How could the goddess have been so cruel? How could Sarah have believed her, when she knew in her soul that they were already bound to each other and would never be whole unless they were together.
She struggled to reach out for him. To cry out for him. It was like the dragon goddess herself was sitting on Sarah’s body, paralyzing her limbs, weighing her down until she feared her heart would be crushed in her chest.
“I will follow you into the Inferno if I have to, Sarah. I promised you I would never let you leave me. I told you I couldn’t let you go. I will fight to get you back, even if it means battling the Inferno itself.”
42
When Kevos entered the sickroom, Jotahan was where he had been for the last three cycles. He heard the sentil walk up behind him, sighing heavily enough that even in his exhausted state, with his head lying on his arms, he couldn’t avoid hearing it.
“You have to rest, Jotahan. You no longer have the chanu zayul to aid you in healing.”
Jotahan didn’t bother to lift his head, but his fingers tightened around Sarah’s hand as if he feared it would be taken from him and he wouldn’t have the strength to keep a hold on her. He felt no response from her. No response at all. Her eyes remained closed, her lips barely parted. Her chest rising and falling shallowly were the only sign of life left after the chanu zayul inside her died before they could leave her body.
Their toxins had poisoned her, and since not all of the chanu zayul’s tendrils had been withdrawn when her impact with the stone crushed their almost completely mature bodies, there might have been some damage to her brain and nervous system.
Kevos had said she had cried out from hallucinations before succumbing completely to her current comatose state. Jotahan himself had been in critical condition for over a cycle. His own chanu zayul had done what they could to heal him, but they had reached full maturity and needed to leave his body. Their grief over the loss of Sarah’s chanu zayul was profound and lingered, even after they crawled out of him.
The healers had done a good job patching his wound, but they wanted him to remain in a sickbed, and he would not. He insisted on being at Sarah’s side, begging her to return to him. Nothing else mattered to him but getting her back. If he couldn’t—if there truly was nothing that could be done to draw her out of this state—then she would die. If that happened, there was no point in him healing completely, since he didn’t think he could go on without her.
A hand fell upon his shoulder, and Jotahan knew it wouldn’t move until he responded to Kevos. He finally lifted his head from his arms, his bleary eyes struggling to focus on the sentil, when he really wanted to look at Sarah’s pale, slack face, praying to all the Ajda that he would see a return of life to her beautiful features.
“Just a little longer. I just need to—”
The hand on his shoulder tightened. “You have been speaking to her for two cycles straight. You haven’t eaten or drank enough vandiz in that entire time. The healers are desperate for you to get some rest. You refuse to speak to anyone else, Jotahan. Not even the elders.”
Kevos’ expression was grim. “Don’t make me drag a wounded Jotahan out of this sick room. Come with me willingly.” He glanced at Sarah’s unmoving form. “She won’t slip away in the few brief sandfalls it will take you to eat and rest.”
Jotahan snarled and flung Kevos’ hand off his shoulder, surging to his feet as he turned on the sentil. “You’re probably thrilled about all of this! You never wanted her here. You wanted to kill her yourself in the barrens! Maybe you’ll finally get your wish, but you won’t live to see it happen.” He charged at Kevos.
Kevos met his charge, bringing up both hands to catch at Jotahan’s wrists. Jotahan broke one hand free and swung his fist at Kevos’ snarling face. He dodged the hit, then parried, striking lower to impact with Jotahan’s unprotected side.
They exchanged blows, but it didn’t take long for Jotahan’s energy to sag, especially when he realized that Kevos was holding back, slowing his speed, pulling his punches. He was only playing with Jotahan, like the sparring partner of a newly recruited jotah.
“You feel better?” Kevos asked when Jotahan pulled away from him, staggering a few steps back to glare angrily at him.
“You know I don’t,” he growled, rubbing his wrists.
“What would your drahi have thought if she had woken up in the middle of that, Jotahan? Is this the state you want to be in when she awakens? Or would you rather be fresh and rested so that your haggard face doesn’t frighten her back into a coma?”
Jotahan’s spines bristled. “You think this is funny?”
“Do I look like I’m amused?” Kevos’ expression remained as grim as when he’d entered the sickroom. “You are not the only one who must deal with what happened that night. I will never stop seeing Ane-ata’s lifeless body in my nightmares, nor will I ever forget the moment when I realized that it was Farona who had murdered her in cold blood. I will never forget that flash of insight, when I finally understood the extent of her wicked plan and the madness that consumed her.” His face twisted with a dark scowl. “I wanted it to be your nixir, Jotahan. I didn’t want to admit that one of our own—a trusted friend—could be capable of such a thing.”
Jotahan sagged, leaning back against the wall beside Sarah’s bed. “My nightmares are haunted by Farona’s screams after I shoved her to her death. They end in terrible silence, only to begin again in an eternal cycle.”