~ The Rush ~ pg 3

Borris blanched at the sight before he turned away, color creeping up his neck. Nivia, ever the brash one, laughed at his misfortune. “Well, Borris, what does our spirit walker have to say about that?” Borris opened up his mouth, but nothing came out. 

Civyl stood, brushing himself off. “You understand her?” 

“There are a number with the element of air,” Nivia answered for him before pestering him again. “But what does she say?” 

“I am sorry,” he finally stammered. “I was just surprised to hear Fiora curse.” The man’s ears burned red and Nivia laughed again. Borris cleared his throat before continuing. “She sends word that there are close to forty armed men at the campsite they are taking her to, maybe more, and under no circumstances are any of us to attempt her rescue alone.” 

He looked meaningfully at Civyl while the wind brushed his fingers as if it was holding his hand. It eased his ache to be with her and he nodded. If Fiora wanted him to wait, he would wait, but he would still make sure they hurried. “Let’s saddle up the other horses, then,” he urged, “I don’t want to waste any more time arguing.”

Fiora breathed a sigh of relief. She had found him; whole and unharmed. With his eye restored even! Did that mean the curse had been lifted? She hadn’t the strength to stay and ask. 

As much bravado as she’d put on for Civyl’s sake, her journey to him had been incredibly draining. The pain in her shoulder throbbed anew with each gallop of the horse the soldiers had draped her across. She had pretended she had fainted so they would pay her less attention as she travelled the wind in secret; first to Borris and then to Civyl and Nivia. 

She’d coached Borris not to mention she was wounded to Civyl and she had been right to. It was hard enough getting him to wait when she was only being held against her will. She did not think she could have convinced him if he knew she’d been physically harmed also. 

At least now help was on its way for Alex. Hearing him scream as they’d ripped her off his chest had been more torturous than her own pain from it. The barbed bolt head still stuck out of her shoulder, reminding her of the terrible moment with each jolt. Now that Nivia was on her way, a weariness Fiora had been fighting started to win over. Soon enough she did not have to pretend that darkness had claimed her.

The End

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