Who the hell had thought it was a good idea to hang off an imperial ship with only one functioning arm and one functioning leg?!
Gods almighty, if he made it through this he was going to kill himself.
The earth fell away beneath his feet. He struggled to keep his grip on the closing hatch, but all he had was a fingerhold on a smooth metal surface and one of his hands was slippery with blood. Not that it mattered. That arm was shot to shit, anyway; trying to pull himself up with it had only resulted in searing pain and a surety that whatever muscle the bullet had torn through was now shredded.
Fucking. Idiot.
If he didn't get up there soon he was going straight back down where he had come from. The trip down would be fine. It was the landing he was worried about.
He shifted his weight back and forth, trying to build enough momentum to throw one leg up. That was harder to do with one arm, as well.
Only a few feet left of clearance.
Shit.
He was dead already.
If only he had the chance to take the emperor down with him…
—the elemental grenade.
The flask that Ignis had handed him minutes—had it only been minutes?—ago. It was heavy in his pocket and between the blood filling his boot and the hole in his arm, he had forgotten it was there at all. He groped for it with his bloodied hand. One foot of clearance left. No more time to hesitate.
Cor spent the last of his strength in an upward surge, heaving himself just far enough to throw the elemental grenade inside of the ship and praying that it did enough damage on its own.
And then he let go.
Better to die flying than cooked.
Wind rushed around him. He was weightless, sensationless, numb with the knowledge of what was to come. He only wished he could have seen it through to the end—ensured that Reina was kept safe. And Regis. Well. At least he wouldn't outlive another king.
Forgive me, Your Highness.
He shut his eyes against the sight of the rapidly approaching ground.
I could not do as you asked.
Impact.
Not as hard as it should have been and from entirely the wrong direction. He should have hit straight down, dead too soon to feel a thing. Instead the world crashed into him from the side and it hurt.
He opened his eyes.
And immediately wished he hadn't.
Regis had always said the first time he warped was the worst experience of his life. They had laughed and poked fun of him, and he—good-natured man that he was—had only smiled and never offered to set them straight.
Cor's body moved but his head was left behind. His stomach turned inside out and reality pressed so close up against his face that he thought he would suffocate in an instant. He rushed through an un-space, blacker than the Starscourge.
And stopped all at once.
He was on the ground, tumbling head over heels and ass-backwards, and for a few seconds he forgot what was up and what was down, what was him and what was not—because some of the places where he hit the ground, he didn't feel anything at all.
Must have been the blood loss.
Or he really was dead.
Or—more crazy—those parts weren't him. Probably they belonged to whoever had slammed into him midair and warped him out of a suicide dive.
"Cor? Cor? Are you alright?" Reina's face swam into view.
Yeah. Blood loss. Reina never worried about him.
He turned away and coughed—miraculously, no blood came out, but he was pretty sure he had more cracked ribs on top of the ones Drautos had given him.
He wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred being dead.
"Yeah." His voice came out hoarse and scratchy. He tried to push himself up, quickly remembered why he hadn't been using his left arm, and tried again. "Fine."
It didn't matter that half of his ribs were broken, that his head was three hundred feet away, that the bullet hole straight through his bicep was still bleeding sluggishly, that the side of his shirt was shredded and blooded like the skin underneath, that he couldn't feel his leg from the knee down and was damn sure he was never walking again: when she slapped him, that was the only thing he felt.
"Don't you ever do that again!"
Hellfire that stung!
Cor lifted his hand to his cheek, head ringing. Who had taught her how to hit?!
His vision was still white and sparkling around the edges when she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.
Blood loss could account for hallucinations. It was ten times more likely than Reina appearing out of fucking nowhere, slapping him, and then hugging him.
"Must be hallucinating."
Reina glared at him. "Do I need to hit you again?"
"Please don't."
In the distance, an explosion rocked the world. Cor turned to look and immediately regretted the decision. His vision swam when he moved his head. When it cleared, he could see the flames engulfing a fallen Magitek engine in the distance.
"So much for taking Aldercapt alive," Reina sighed.
"Sorry," Cor said.
"Don't," she said. "You did more than your share."
"Drautos?" He asked.
She looked up. Overhead, the fleet of Magitek engines was rising higher by the minute. Retreating?
"Somewhere in there, probably." she said.
It took a moment for the information to sink in. She had been fighting with Drautos the last time Cor had looked; she should have been able to take him down, but…
But she had let him go.
Because of Cor.
"Shit." Cor ran his hands over his face, leaving streaks of blood behind. "My fault."
"Stop it." She pulled his hands away and made brisk work of looking him over. "You're worth it, to me, alright? So shut up and let me heal you."
"You could still go after them," Cor said.
"What part of 'shut up and let me heal you,' did you not understand?"
She tore open the sleeve of his coat to look at the bullet wound. He let her, because he didn't want to get hit again and regardless of whether or not he was worth losing Drautos over, she would hit him again.
He turned his gaze out as she began to work her magic—a peculiar tingling sensation spread from his bicep down to his fingertips. It overwhelmed the searing pain with tiny pins and needles.
It wasn't until then that he realized they were on the roof of a factory or warehouse or something. Down below and a few hundred feet away, the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive were congregating, keeping their distance from the battle that raged between the colossal daemon and two Lucian monarchs from the Old Wall. Overhead, most of the imperial ships were in full retreat, but one grounded ship remained where it was, behind the blaze of the emperor's dropship.
His bicep still hurt when he moved, but tentative motion revealed that Reina's magic had already repaired some of the internal damage—the strength was beginning to return to his arm. Reina pulled the knife from his boot—Gods knew how she knew it was there in the first place—and cut his pant leg from the knee down so she could lay her hands on his skin and sink her magic into him.
"Stupid, stubborn ass," she muttered. "Why can't you just keep your feet on the ground and out of the fire?"
Cor glared at her. "Why can't you let me protect you?"
A thousand pins jabbed into his leg as muscle and tendons were stitched back together with magic. Cor clenched his jaw and held back a grimace.
"I can protect myself!" Reina snapped.
The Ring of the Lucii glowed faintly on her hand as she worked. The light of magic illuminated her skin—pale lines crept up her arms, like the crumbling ash left behind of a piece of paper set smoldering. The longer she worked at his knee, the farther they spread, expanding in that same way—as if the magic was burning the top layer of her skin off and leaving ash behind.
If it hurt, she didn't show it.
Cor grabbed her wrists, breaking the contact and concentration she needed for healing. "Not every threat comes from the outside."
He twisted her hands in his; the pale burn marks ran up past her elbow and all the way around her arm—both arms. He brushed his fingers over the skin and found it rough to the touch. Who the hell was she calling a stubborn ass?
And her arms weren't the only thing.
He released her hands and grabbed her chin, tilting her head to one side, then the other. The spindly burn marks spread from beneath her collar, making their way up the sides of her neck. She tilted her head loosely at his urging. Not contrite, but at least compliant.
"I am not worth this, Your Highness." He released her chin, leaving the white marks of his fingers on her skin. "Nor is Drautos."
"Drautos may not be, but you are."
"I am not worth your life," he repeated, more sternly. "That is the entire purpose of a bodyguard."
"You're not my bodyguard," she said. "You're my friend."
He sat there, dumbfounded, while she went back to work. She didn't use any more magic, in spite of her words. She bound his knee and arm tightly with the strips she had cut from his pant leg and made short work of inspecting him for any other life-threatening injuries. Apparently satisfied, she sat back on her heels and wiped blood on her black trousers.
"Besides," she said, "I know where my limits are. I don't intend to kill myself."
"I don't intend to let you."
She smiled; in forty-eight hours, he had nearly grown accustomed to this new, harsh Reina—it was strange to see her smile now. Nice. But strange.
To the south, movement caught his eye. Shadows thrown by the flames of the burning Magitek Engine made it difficult to identify. A person? A daemon? No animal would willingly venture so close to the wreckage. He didn't think it was a trick of the light.
"Reina," Cor said. "I don't think the emperor is dead."
She looked where he did.
"Impossible..." Her eyes widened.
She stood and he struggled upright a beat after. It took him three times as long, but she didn't seem to notice; she walked toward the far edge of the roof, squinting toward the wreckage.
In hindsight, standing was a bad idea. Not that he was ever going to admit that out loud. He gritted his teeth and balanced on one leg.
"It doesn't look like a person…" She turned and found Cor standing.
"Mule," she said.
"Likewise," Cor said.
"You're not coming."
"Like hell I'm not."
"You can't even walk!"
"I can manage." It would have been nice to say he had told a worse lie at some point in his life; he couldn't think of one.
Reina heaved a sigh. "There's only one person on Eos more stubborn than you."
"You?" He asked.
She smiled. Instead of responding, she tucked herself under his arm and summoned her naginata. "Ready?"
"No."
She threw it anyway.
The world lurched.
When it rematerialized, it seemed to spin around him. He only kept his footing because Reina was still under his arm, steadying him. Cor clutched her shoulder and forced his head to sit straight on his neck.
They were close enough to the fallen Engine to feel the heat of the flames baking one side of their skin. The shadows all around leapt and danced in the flickering light, but he saw nothing to indicate another person.
Reina released him and crept toward the front of the ship. Cor followed less gracefully. He pushed away the discomfort of having a boot full of blood and two half-healed wounds. More important things to worry about. His knee still hurt like hell with every step, but it wasn't bleeding anymore and it held his weight. That would have to be enough. Hell if he was going to let her walk into this on her own.
They rounded the corner, keeping as close to the flames as they dared, and found what they were looking for.
No wonder it hadn't looked human. It wasn't. The Magitek armor Drautos wore like an exoskeleton protected the insect they all knew stood inside. Soulless. Bastard. Traitor.
From the wreckage, Drautos dragged a much-charred and badly burned Emperor Aldercapt. His white robes were singed and streaked with ash. What little was visible of his skin was cherry red and blistered. His eyes were shut, but he winced and lolled his head to one side as Drautos pulled him away from the flames.
"You should have fled while you had the chance." Reina still held her naginata.
Drautos looked up at them. His armor gave off rancid black smoke and, in more than one place, it was dented and slashed open. Reina's handiwork.
"And you should mind your king, while yet he lives," Drautos said.
She laughed, mirthless, and shook her head. "That only works for you once."
For a moment they only stared at each other: silent and hardly daring to move. Drautos held the emperor in his arms, still close enough to the blaze that the flames licked his armor. Cor shifted his weight to his good leg, flexing his sword hand and watching for any hint of motion. Then Reina flung her naginata and warped. Drautos leapt, the Magitek in his suit whirring to life as he took flight—Aldercapt in toe—and her naginata shot beneath him. She caught it when she rematerialized, rolling and rising to her feet. Cor drew his blade; he was already too far away. He broke into a run, ignoring every protest from his knee, as Reina gave chase.
Drautos made for the grounded drop ship behind the ruined one. Reina would have caught him. If she had been on her own. Instead she hesitated, glancing back at Cor as he struggled forward.
"Go!" He shouted. "Catch him!"
She turned and took Cor's arm across her shoulders.
"Better we go together," she said.
AN: FOUR CHAPTERS LEFT!
Reckoning is ready to launch on December 9th. Are you ready?