Ashes to Ashes | ✓

15 || The Watchtower

"Hold still."

Felix nodded numbly, already clenching his jaw so hard that it began to ache. Aiko's touch was gentle and warm as she grabbed hold of the crossbow bolt protruding from his shoulder. Although she tried to make it as painless as possible, there was no way to successfully accomplish that. She held her breath as she took his knife and began to saw off the tip from the wooden shaft. The movement jerked the bolt in the wound, and Felix forced himself to bite back a groan as a fresh wave of pain washed over him.

As soon as the pointed tip broke off, she shifted to the fledging side sticking out from his back. Over and over, she muttered an apology as she slowly began to pull the bolt free. It was agony, and Felix found himself biting down on the inside of his cheek until the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth.

Finally, the bolt came free. Felix doubled over with a gasp, immediately pressing his hand against the gaping wound. A shudder tore through him but, despite the burning beneath his palm and the sickening nausea that settled over him, he couldn't help the sense of relief that crawled through the back of his mind. If Nova's bolts had been poisoned, he would have been dead long ago.

Although collapsing from exhaustion and slurring his way through instructions for removing the bolt wasn't a particularly great alternative. It was a blur in his memories, drowned in the abyss of pain, but he could faintly recall the sharp cry of his name on Aiko's lips when he finally collapsed. He half expected her to leave him, but she never did. Even now, she was still at his side.

Aiko tossed the broken shaft aside as if it had burned her. "I'm sorry," she said again as she sank to the ground beside him. Taking the knife in one hand, she tore off shreds of fabric from her skirt. "This isn't ideal at all, but hopefully it will at least stop the bleeding until we can make it to the guard post."

Again, he nodded as she took the strips of shimmering satin and began to bandage his wound. The red cloth bound the wad of gray from his tunic—which she had also shredded in an attempt to pry it free and examine the wound—against his shoulder. Her touch was warm as it grazed his bare skin. Though the air was cold, heavy with the scent of oncoming rain, Aiko's fingers gave off a constant heat—it was significantly warmer in the hand that wasn't bound by the gold cuff. Perhaps it was a lingering effect of the fire she had summoned to escape, or maybe it had always been that way and he had never noticed.

He turned his head slightly, glancing back the way they had come. They left the inner wall behind a long time ago, headed toward the watchtower on the outer wall. Aiko said it would be their best bet. From there, they could alert the guards, wait out the chaos, and return.

Or escape if worst comes to worst, he told himself bitterly, remembering the gold sash. It could have easily been a disguise that the assassin had stolen from one of the real guards, but he couldn't shake the unease that settled heavily in the pit of his stomach.

"Is this your dominant hand?" Aiko asked softly as she pulled the makeshift wad of bandages tight against the wound.

The moonlight cast a soft glow across her dark skin, though the light was muddled by the canopy of trees overhead. A cut traced across her cheekbone on one side, marked by a streak of dried blood. Her hair was falling out of her bun—the gold ribbon that had been perched underneath was lost somewhere along the way. Somehow, even despite her torn and dirtied ballgown and the concern welling in her hazel eyes, she looked similar to the girl he met in the forest a mere two weeks ago.

Similar, but not the same. Now, darkness clung to her, and there was a haunted look in her gaze. Her hands trembled as she withdrew them from his shoulder, blood clinging to her fingertips. Neither of them brought it up, but he had no doubt they were both aware of it.