The head wound was the worst. There was swelling around his brain, a crack in his skull, and so much blood loss. Caelan couldn’t call the blood back, but he could at least ease the swelling and heal the crack in bone and flesh. When he was sure that the wound was closed and healed, he moved on, fixing tears, cuts, and bruises. He did what he could to speed along Rayne’s creation of new blood.
“His color seems better,” Drayce commented, his hopeful voice creeping through Caelan’s concentration.
Caelan could feel Rayne’s improved heart rate, but his friend was still too weak and too cold. “Go into the yurt. Find some thick furs or blankets. I want to wrap Rayne up by the fire.”
“It would help if you turned off the storm,” Drayce countered a bit tartly.
Caelan opened his eyes to see his best friend giving him a pointed look, and he just smirked at him. “Kaes and I aren’t done yet. Get the blankets.”
Drayce appeared worried, but he wordlessly rose and jogged off to the yurt. Caelan watched him cross the camp, making sure there weren’t any other Zastrian attackers waiting to strike.
The boy is fine. Let’s take care of the ringleader. The God of Storms growled deep in his mind.
He honestly didn’t know if the God of Storms was referring to Drayce or Rayne, and he doubted Kaes cared about either of them. The anger still boiling through Caelan had him wanting to deal with the man he’d purposefully left alive, but Rayne and Drayce were his main priority. He needed to get Rayne on the proper path to healing. Once his advisor was rested and warm, they would begin thinking about trying to find Eno and Vale.
Rayne shifted under his hands and Caelan looked down to find Rayne’s eyes open, but his gaze was unfocused and his eyelids were already floating lower again as if he didn’t have the strength to remain awake.
“Caelan,” he started so softly.
“Rest, Rayne. Drayce and I have you. You’re safe now,” he replied as calmly as he could manage.
“My head…”
“I know. It’ll start to feel better as soon as we get you warmed up. You need to rest. Close your eyes.”
“But…”
“Don’t argue with your king,” Caelan admonished. Rayne’s eyes fell shut again and there was the tiniest twitch of his lips. It could have been a frown or a smirk. He’d never know, but it was something and that was so much better than a dying Rayne.
Drayce returned at a jog, his arms loaded with blankets and a couple of thick furs. He laid them down close to the fire, arranging them so Rayne would be comfortable before returning to Caelan’s side and helping him to move Rayne closer.
The second Rayne was settled, Caelan pushed to his feet and turned toward the man still sitting against the rock. His face was red from the bite of the bitter wind and his legs were flecked with snow. For the most part, the snow had stopped, but the wind continued to sweep wildly through the valley. Lightning jumped between the clouds, chased by the roar of thunder.
The afternoon sky had prematurely turned dark, and Caelan had lost all sense of time. He didn’t know how long they’d been away from their own camp. Had Eno discovered them missing yet?
It didn’t matter. Everything would be sorted out soon.
First, he needed some answers, and they were going to be found in the mind of the man behind their kidnapping.
“Cael?” Drayce called. His name captured both his uneasiness as well as a hint of a warning. He appreciated Drayce’s protectiveness, but now wasn’t the time.
Caelan waved him off as he continued to the man. “Remain with Rayne. See that he rests and stays warm.”
The man watched him with dark eyes nearly lost under a heavy brow and thick eyebrows. Fear flickered there, but also rage and a resoluteness. He worshiped the Dead God. He was content to have his life offered up to the old deity and pass from this world, not caring about the other people he killed and the families he destroyed.
Let’s show him that the Goddess of Life still deserves to be feared. Tula’s whisper through his mind sent a shiver along his spine, but it didn’t stop him from extending his hand toward the leader of the ruffians.
Tula’s power leaped from his fingertips and streaked straight at the figure. Calean flinched to feel it slam into the man’s brain and burrow inside like a tick searching for blood. A low grunt escaped his prisoner and then…nothing. Not a flinch or a cry of pain, but Caelan was already inside of his head and had full possession of everything. His prisoner couldn’t breathe without his consent. His heart beat by Caelan’s will alone.
Immersed in the man’s mind, he dug through a lifetime of memories in seconds. But he didn’t merely brush the ones he had no interest in aside. No, he incinerated them. With a touch of Tula’s powers, every thought, image, and recollection from the past disintegrated into dust. He was steadily wiping away everything that made old Ram exactly who he was.