Heir of Dust and Wind

Chapter 58 - Close Calls

Raban knew instantly when they reentered the Between.

When he'd followed Ava through the portal earlier that night, it had felt as if a giant claw made of icy steel had gripped his heart and lungs, making it almost impossible to breathe. The scarce bit of air he had then been able to take in had burned his throat and insides like acid making him writhe and groan in pain. His ears had rang, his vision turning blurry and his body suddenly feeling too heavy to be moved. 

Raban had realised instantly that the sorceress had not merely travelled anywhere, but as far as the Nether Realm, where the lack of magic made it next to impossible for him to exist. In fact, it was somewhat miraculous that he'd survived at all, given that Fae needed far more than just the scraps of magic the human dimension had to offer. However, his dulled senses on top of his struggle not to suffocate had given him no opportunity to muse on the whys and hows. Staying alive had taken all his focus.

Only the monstrous stench of the Fallen One and the danger that his appearance had meant for Ava had caused him to mobilise what was left of his former strength for one desperate of the dagger he'd hidden in the waistband of his pants. Then he'd fallen into dark oblivion.

As soon as they'd passed the barrier between the dimensions however, he'd come to his senses momentarily, as his lungs finally filled with air, his body and mind welcoming the familiar warmth of magic tingling along his skin.

His initial relief, however, had been short-lived because the first thing his recovering senses had caught was the coppery smell of fresh blood. A lot of it.

Opening his eyes, pulse qickening in panic, Raban's heart almost stopped when he saw Ava above him. Her hand was clutched to her chest where the fabric of her sage green night gown was completely soaked with blood. Between her hands he could see the hilt of the knife and almost froze in horror when he recognised his dagger.

By the stars! What had happened after he'd passed out?

"Help! She needs help!" An unfamiliar voice made him look past Ava.

Only then did Raban register that there was a human woman with his consort. She was holding onto Ava's shoulders, keeping her upright. If it hadn't been for the stranger, she'd undoubtedly fallen over given how pale and glassy-eyed she was. And she was still bleeding. 

Scrambling to get upright, his limbs still fighting to shake of the earlier clumsiness, a rush of relief washed through him as the familiar shape of Trygve appeared in his field of vision, taking Ava from the Human's arms, scooping her up effortlessly.

The woman was obviously in her night clothes, her blonde curls wild and her eyes too wide. She was still shrieking and yelling for help, even after Ava had been taken from her.

"Bring her up her laboratory!" Orla's voice ordered even more imperious than usual. Despite this, Raban could hear the worry in the Goblin's tone.

Shit. 

Having finally managed to get to his feet, he watched as the tall Dracaeni disappeared on the stairs that led to the first floor. He made a step in that direction, desperately needing to be with Ava, but his knee buckled, and Raban would have fallen, if Gainor hadn't steadied him. "Easy!"

"Let me!" Raban snapped and tried to pull away from the Dracaeni's firm grip on his upper arms.

Somewhere deep in his mind there was a more rational voice, urging him to be grateful for the help, but it was drowned out be all the panic he felt as the images of a blood-soaked Ava replayed in his head. They squeezed his heart painfully and he had to swallow down the big lump in his throat.