Dying.
There was no other end to this.
I dropped to my knees in a total state of shock. There was silence all around—deadly, deafening silence that had to be false. It was only this silent when you lost your hearing.
Or when you were dead.
A scream broke through the quiet, piercing my mind, dragging me back to the present. Agony still suffused every inch of me, but I managed to force my eyes open. Through bleary vision, I spotted a confused Rasla staring at me.
The charm that had been pinned to his lapel was gone, and he blinked in a slow, befuddled manner.
I’d torn off the protective charm and erased his memory right before I’d been hit. What about the sorcerers? I didn’t need them making hell for my former self. It was almost impossible to keep my thoughts in order, but I forced every ounce of energy that I had toward the task.
I might be dying now—I was definitely dying now—but if I didn’t clean up this mess for my past self, then history might change and keep me from ever meeting Carrow.
I couldn’t lose the time I’d had with her.
The thought gave me strength.
She appeared at my side a half moment later, dropping to her knees. “Grey!”
She touched me gently, her hands running over my body, searching for wounds. I leaned into her touch, drawing strength from her. She wouldn’t find any wounds on the outside, but I already knew that I was running on the fumes of death.
Still on my knees, I reached up and grabbed Rasla’s coat, pulling him down to face me. I used all the magic I had left to say, “Forget this ever happened or that you have any quarrel with me. If your men speak of it, they are lying.”
He nodded, his gaze unfocused and his mouth slack.
“Go.”
He turned and walked off, moving slowly.
“Grey.” Carrow moved around to face me, shoving a tiny vial into my hands. “Here. The last healing potion. Take it.”
The cork had already been removed, so I tossed it back.
The liquid ran down my throat and filled my belly, but I only felt a fraction of its power. The pain still surged, and nausea followed in its wake.
The curse had its hooks fully into me.
It had been trying to drag me away from this world for so long, growing stronger every time I was injured. This would be the last straw. I could feel the ether tugging on me even now, the curse determined to pull me away from Carrow and the life that I had almost had.
A life of light and love.
“Are you all right?” she demanded, her voice wavering. “Is the potion working?”
“I’m fine.” I had minutes left, maybe. We needed to get out of here. If I didn't survive, I couldn’t leave Carrow here with my body. Would my body stay behind when I left?
I had no idea. Couldn’t risk it. Too much to ask of her.
“Help me up, if you can.” The words tasted sour as they left my lips.
Tears rolled down her face as she pulled me to my feet. Every part of me felt broken, shattered beyond repair. The sorcerer’s magic had rent me inside, the blast doing irreparable damage.
Once, I might have survived it. Now, not a chance.
Carrow tucked herself under my arm to help support me, and I leaned on her, hating it. She shouldn’t have to do this. Shouldn’t have to be here for this.
I could only imagine what I would be feeling if I thought she were about to die. Utter devastation. The idea that she might hold that depth of feeling for me seemed almost laughable. But from the tears that streamed down her face, it also seemed almost possible.