“That’s my girl.” Bastiaan sounded so weak. I scanned his body, but all I saw was blood. Everywhere. I didn’t need to be a healer to know his wound was fatal.

“This is taking too long,” Hedy snapped. “We have one chance, Sven. What if you miss the tear? What if she wastes it on him? We should turn her in to the king—a trade for our people.”

A hand gripped my hair and yanked me back.

“No!” I twisted away from Sven, individual strands snapping from my skull. Sven’s grip tightened and he kicked the back of my knees so I fell to the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said to the others.

“What about Bastiaan?” Hedy asked. “The king does want him dead. Two bargaining chips are better than one.”

Sven peered around me as though assessing how difficult it would be to carry Bastiaan. “Cut off the finger with the Talent Mark. Then throw him into the Well. I don’t want to risk him surviving and coming after us.”

“He’s not surviving that wound,” Hedy snorted, withdrawing her dagger.

“With his history I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“No!” I screamed. “You can’t do this! Sven!” I writhed against his hold. He leaned away from me as though dodging a mosquito. I fought harder, desperate to get free. To tackle Hedy. Knock her to the ground. Throw myself over Bastiaan. Something.

Hedy pressed her knee onto Bastiaan’s midsection. He cried out, trying to push her away, but already he was so very weak. Hedy yanked his arm straight, searching his fingers for the Talent Mark.

“Stop! You have to stop!” I elbowed Sven in the face. He growled and yanked my head back so hard my neck popped.

“Here it is.” Hedy splayed Bastiaan’s right hand on the ground. Then she stabbed right through the bone. I screamed. Bastiaan bucked against the pain, an animal sound ripping through him.

Hedy tucked his severed finger in her pocket and got up. “Done.”

“Bastiaan!” I cried, gulping in a breath. “I’m so sorry!” This was my doing. The tears were coming. Finally. How could Hedy and Sven do this to another human?

Sven released me and I ran to Bastiaan. Pulled him close and tucked his head to my chest.

“Don’t . . . ,” Bastiaan pleaded. “Don’t cry.”

“I love you,” I whispered.

He turned his head. “It’ll be the death of you.” He kissed the soft spot of my neck. “And I can’t let that happen.”

I saw the sweep of his arm. Stone to skull. All went black.

Chapter 50
Bastiaan

Bastiaan landed with a crack in the belly of the Well. Hedy’s hands weren’t gentle. He didn’t need to see the sharp bone pressing against his skin from the inside to know his arm had broken from the fall.

The pain was nothing compared to his arrow wound.