Chapter Sixteen
‘We have to get him to an infirmary.’ Tren surged to his feet, his hands and clothes covered in Edwae’s blood. He looked ready to run all the way back to Westrarc by himself.
‘Tren.’ Eva caught at his arm, restraining him lest he fly off without thought. ‘Look at him. He’d never survive the trip.’
Tren looked. Poor Edwae lay inert save for the pained heaving of his chest as he fought to breathe. That ragged breath had stopped, started, stopped again; his chest was laid open with the same wounds that Eva had seen on Meesa’s destroyed body. Finshay had ripped a cloak to pieces and bandaged Edwae’s chest, but nothing could halt the flow of blood.
‘We must be miles from anywhere with a healer. We’ll be lucky to move him at all without-’ She stopped. She was going to say ‘wi
