Blood Moon (Blood Rain Book 2)

by Nancy Gray

  Mercy smiled. “Are you always prepared for everything?”

  Pyron glanced at Mirilee. She was slowly starting to stand up as well. When she saw Erebus and Beryl she buried her face in her hands and looked away, beginning to weep. Kylas leaned down and began speaking to her gently, telling her that Erebus and Beryl were still alive and that they would be okay.

  “I’m only prepared when someone gives me enough warning. Mirilee is the one responsible for saving their lives, but no one is safe yet. We need to hurry.”

  Pyron rushed down the icy beach in Beryl’s direction, and Mercy split away from him, running towards Erebus. His heartbeat was even fainter, and Mercy knew she needed to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. He would also need blood, but she might be able to provide him with a cup if she could just finish bandaging him first. She kept the hand cannon in an inside pocket of her thick, winter coat where it would be close enough to reach just in case.

  As she approached him, she knew that he wouldn’t be strong enough to attack her anytime soon. Whatever spell that he hurled at Beryl caused a great deal of internal damage. The gaping wound in his side from one of Beryl’s icicles hadn’t closed either. Mercy peeled away his shirt, and he shivered enough that his teeth clattered like castanets. She could see the discoloration on his stomach where several veins had burst open all at once. She needed a closer look.

  Mercy concentrated on the smell of blood, the sound of his heartbeat, and the way his blood flowed through his veins. When she opened her eyes again, she could almost see the pattern of blood flowing through his body. It seemed that most of the injuries were within his abdomen, as though he was struck with the force of a behemoth horn and flung several yards away. She knew it was a result of his magic. He had thrown that kind of force at Beryl, probably aiming for the chest, but when it rebounded it hit him in the stomach. She concentrated, trying to use her little control over blood to get the injury to close more quickly and to make his heart pump faster. At least it was the sort of injury that he had the most control over, but he would need to drink blood to recover more quickly.

  Mercy bandaged his bleeding side in silence, and as soon as she was sure enough pressure was on the wound and the bandages were firm enough to stay in place, she put the hand cannon on her lap and cut her palm with one of her daggers. For a moment she paused and stared at Erebus, making sure that the scent hadn’t awoken him, but he looked just as pale and unconscious as he had before. Carefully, she held her wounded hand over his mouth and squeezed. As the blood trickled in, he groaned and began to move, but then whimpered and settled back down.

  Mercy felt tears running down her cheeks as she said under her breath, “You stubborn idiot! You promised me that you would try to control yourself.”

  She squeezed the wound harder, and Erebus’ eyes slowly opened. She said a silent prayer of thanks to the forest gods when she realized they were violet blue instead of red. At least, for now, he was in control, and he was awake. She had a feeling that he wouldn’t be awake for long though, especially since she knew that his injuries were so severe.

  He tried to speak, but she could tell he was in too much pain. “Mercy?”

  “Hush. Don’t try to speak or move. Just drink the blood, and I’ll do what I can to help you. You’re hurt really badly. Your magic backfired. I don’t even know what you were trying to do to Beryl, but you’re just lucky this didn’t hit you in the chest.”

  “Is Beryl?”

  “He’s alive, for now. Pyron is taking care of him.”

  Erebus began to tremble again. She wanted to wrap him in the coat more tightly, but she still needed to see what she was doing.

  “I’ll close the coat as soon as I’m done. Keep drinking. I can lose a little blood if it will make you heal up faster.”

  Mercy hadn’t even heard Kylas approach, but he said, “I’ll donate some as well.”

  He held out his arm, and Mercy smiled gratefully. She never would’ve expected Kylas to be the first in line to help Erebus, but then again, he had changed his attitude about Erebus and her own powers as well lately.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “Please, let me help.”

  She nodded and cut him with her second dagger. He held the wound over Erebus’ mouth while Mercy continued to use her power to circulate the blood. She felt as though she could almost knit the wound shut if she just had a little more practice, but it was knowledge that she lacked for now. He would have to do most of the internal healing himself with his own blood magic. The strain would probably knock him unconscious to expend more energy; but then again, she was doing extensive magic, and she hardly felt it at all. The very air felt infused with energy, as though she was pulling from the environment instead of from her own willpower and inner strength.

  Erebus muttered, coughing up a little blood, “The wall?”

  “I don’t know who did it. It wasn’t you or Beryl. Whoever put it there is probably still close by. Since they were putting up a barrier between the two of you, I doubt they mean us harm.”

  Mercy scanned the mountains. Whoever it was didn’t want to be seen just yet, and they were clearly very powerful. If they had wanted to kill Erebus or Beryl they certainly could’ve done it. It looked as though they just wanted to break up the fight. And, Mercy suspected, that turning their own spells against them might’ve been done purposefully as well. Erebus would have an easier time healing an injury caused by blood magic than he would one that was caused by water or ice. It was the kind of magic he knew, so he probably knew exactly what the spell was supposed to do, and what he needed to do to fix the damage to his own body. She just hoped that Beryl was going to be as lucky. The Merfolk could heal quickly - Beryl’s encounter with the siren shark proved that - but not as quickly or efficiently as the Blood Wings.

  She glanced in Beryl’s direction. His injuries were bandaged and there were no longer any icicles sticking through his body. He was propped up between Pyron and Mirilee, and it looked like he was still in a great deal of pain, but at least he was alive. As they dragged him towards Mercy, his head lolled back and forth with the motion, as though he couldn’t even lift it. His eyes occasionally opened, and she heard him whisper an incoherent question or two, but he clearly wasn’t doing any better than Erebus. He actually seemed worse. Mercy was just grateful that both of them were alive. Mirilee and Pyron lowered Beryl down next to Erebus.

  Kylas asked, concerned, “Do you think he’ll be okay, Pyron?”

  “I think so, but I’m not sure. I did what I could for him, but those were some pretty rough puncture wounds. If he wasn’t one of the Mermen, I don’t think he would’ve survived. How is Erebus?”

  Mercy sighed. “The same. He cast a very dangerous spell, and it hit him in the stomach. If it had hit him in the chest, despite being a Blood Wing, he would’ve died.”

  Erebus’ eyes got wide for a moment. “I would’ve died?”

  Mercy glared at him. “Yes. You very nearly did. So, you clearly intended to kill Beryl, and from the look of things, he meant to kill you just as much.”

  Erebus glanced in Beryl’s direction and stammered, “Beryl, I’m sorry.”

  Beryl managed to turn his head and sputtered, “I’m sorry too.”

  Mirilee snapped. “Not as sorry as we are. Have you forgotten why we came here in the first place? This wasn’t a good way to make a first impression! Thank the God of the Stars that the leader of the Northern people didn’t see this, but I’m sure he’ll know about it soon enough! You two drew quite a crowd.”

  Mercy looked around and cringed as she saw all of the people that were in the snow houses near the dock were gathered in a huge semi-circle behind them and were staring at them with a mixture of concern and anger. Mothers were holding their children tightly, and angry fathers were stepping forward. From witnessing how well Beryl fought with only one hand, Mercy didn’t doubt that the crowd was more than capable of dealing with them if things became ugly. Cap
tain Morrissey was also among the group, shaking his head in disapproval.

  It looked as though Mirilee was more than ready to continue her lecture, but she was interrupted as a voice from the mountain boomed, “Actually, the king did see it! And, I must say, I expected better of you, Beryl!”

  28

  Beryl groaned, but didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes, and Mercy could feel his uncomfortable shame, like ice on the back of her neck. He stared at the ground, as though afraid to even look at the owner of the voice. Mercy looked up at the mountain and saw a short, muscular man with long white hair and a long, braided beard. He was wearing white furs that made it easy for him to blend into the mountainside and was holding a long stave with a beautiful crystal on the end of it. He also was wearing a crown that looked like it was a combination of stone, crystal, and ice in such an intricate design that she wasn’t sure how the artisan had crafted it. He regarded them with storm-gray eyes and a stony expression that made Mercy feel like sinking into the ground.

  He continued, “Are these the companions you spoke so highly of during your last visit?”

  Beryl groaned again, muttering something under his breath. She thought it sounded like some sort of apology, but the Northern king’s expression reminded Mercy of her father when he wasn’t in the mood to hear any excuses. Beryl seemed to recognize the look as well, since he finally settled for nodding as a response.

  “Is this usually how you treat your friends, using the gifts you’ve been blessed with to try to blast them to pieces?”

  Mercy said, “With all due respect, sire, I don’t think he’s in any condition to answer any questions right now. My friends are injured. Please, can we get them some help first?”

  “Can I trust that they won’t endanger anymore of my people?”

  Beryl looked up and said, “Yes, sire.”

  “Splendid, then welcome back, Beryl.”

  Beryl cringed and put his good hand over his eyes and managed to say in a broken voice, “Thank you, sire.”

  Mercy realized with surprise that the king wasn’t the only one on the mountainside. There were about ten guards stationed around him in various positions. Some were holding crossbows at the ready, while others held harpoons with spines along the edges of the blades and all of them looked ready to strike at any moment. It reminded Mercy of being surrounded by the Stealer Wings of the desert, but this situation was very different.

  As soon as the king gave Beryl his sarcastic “welcome back,” his guards were at ease and walked down from the mountain, clearly wanting to help. Even though the king was still angry with Beryl, it seemed that he was furious about the fight and that was all. Behind his cold countenance, there was a good natured humor that was fighting to get out that put Mercy at ease.

  “Bring our guests to the palace and see that they’re given rooms so they can freshen up, and make sure that their injuries are treated to the best of our ability. We have many things to discuss with them this evening. Oh, and try to make sure Beryl doesn’t bleed all over the carpet!”

  Erebus was silent through the conversation, clearly trying to stay alert. Mercy tried to read the crowd’s expression as they each walked by in turn. They seemed glad to see Beryl and Captain Morrissey. They were curious about Mirilee and Kylas, and about Mercy herself, but they were very suspicious of Pyron and Erebus. A few of them even muttered some unkind words under their breath as they walked by. If Pyron intended to somehow gain these people’s trust, they weren’t simply going to give it to him without a fight.

  Mercy was too exhausted to worry over the crowd’s apprehension. She simply clung to the fact that Erebus and Beryl were at least still alive, despite their efforts to kill each other. The more she thought about it, the more she realized their fight was probably the result of many years of hard feelings between their people.

  When both of them realized what they had nearly done to one another they were ashamed, but Mirilee was right, that wasn’t enough to amend their bad first impression. Mercy had a feeling that just that one fight was going to make their mission to become allies with the Northern people much more difficult. And, as she saw the palace ahead of them, she suddenly felt very small and wondered if gaining an ally as powerful as the North would even be possible at all.

  About the Author

  Nancy Gray lives in South Carolina with her husband and two daughters. She graduated from the University of South Carolina with a Bachelors of Art in Media Arts and an English cognate. She started out as a graphic designer and then changed professions when she realized that writing was her calling. She enjoys reading, gaming, anime, manga, and horror.

  If you want to find out more about Nancy Gray, visit her website at www.nancygray.net,

  Facebook page at www.facebook.com/WriterNancyGray.

  You can also follow her on Twitter under the handle @NancyGrayWriter.