This is my chance.
Cuan was out cold. There weren’t any other elves around; the corridors he’d led her down had been deserted. She’d never have a better opportunity to escape.
Gingerly, she lowered the elf warrior to the floor. He didn’t stir as she let go of him. Holding her breath, she backed away…and stopped.
He was so still. She couldn’t even see him breathing. He looked so hurt, so helpless…
“Tamsin, you’re an idiot,” she muttered, and kneeled down next to him.
She reached for Cuan’s neck, searching for his pulse. A strange tingle shot through her fingertips the moment they made contact with his bronzed skin. She could feel his heartbeat; faint, but there.
Succumbing to fascination, she traced the swirling indigo markings that ran down his neck. Cuan let out a soft sigh, and she jerked away—but he only frowned a little, head turning as though searching for something. Hesitantly, she laid her palm against his cheek, and his brow smoothed out again. He fell back into that deep, boneless stillness.
There was a purpling bruise on his forehead where the black knight had head-butted him, but she didn’t think that was the injury that had made him fall unconscious. She prised at the complicated system of buckles and straps that held his armor in place until she could peel back the chest piece.
She instantly knew that he was going to need more than her limited first aid abilities. A lot more.
From the deep slashes across his side, it was a miracle he hadn’t collapsed halfway through the duel. His undershirt was soaked in blood, clinging to his muscled torso.
“Oh no,” she whispered. Out of habit, she fell into the low, soothing tones she used with injured dogs. “Okay, big guy. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Cuan stirred again as she stood up, one hand twitching as though to reach after her. Much as she hated leaving him alone and hurt, she didn’t have a choice. She had to find help for him.
Swallowing a flutter of nerves, she opened the door. She half-expected to be met by a wall of sneering, smirking elves—but the corridor beyond was empty. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing from the stone walls.
“Hello?” All her instincts screamed that it was a bad idea to venture back into those dangerous, alien hallways. She edged out anyway, raising her voice. “Hey! This man—uh, Cuan—he’s hurt! He needs urgent medical aid! Hello?”
“Hello,” said a voice, right in her ear.
She nearly had a heart attack. Whirling, she found a tall, muscular man standing just behind her, way too close. He didn’t have glowing tattoos like the other fae she’d seen so far, but he definitely wasn’t human. His white hair stuck up in tousled, unruly spikes, revealing pointed ears.
He was dressed all in white, with loose pants and a round-necked tunic with frayed, ragged edges. His skin was pale as chalk. His eyes were shocking in contrast; sharp and black as obsidian. If she hadn’t been able to see him breathing, she would have seriously wondered if he was a ghost.
“Where did you come from?” she blurted out.
The man cocked his head to one side, the movement strangely birdlike. “Through the door. Of course.”
She stared from him to the doorway behind. It was the only one he could mean, and yet she could have sworn there hadn’t been anywhere someone could hide… “You were in the room the whole time?”
“No.” He turned around, poking his head through the doorway—and his shoulders stiffened in sudden alarm. “Cuan!”
Tamsin followed the strange man as he hurried to the fallen warrior’s side. From the clear shock on his face, he really couldn’t have been in the room before…but then, where had he come from?
She set that mystery aside for now. “You know this guy?”
The pale man nodded, his swift, agile hands patting at the warrior, seemingly at random. “Yes. Cuan. He’s my friend. I think. Wait.”
The man reached into a hidden pocket. Tamsin caught a brief glimpse of something small and bright cupped in his palm. The man stared at it intently for an instant, then nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Yes.” He made the whatever-it-was disappear back into the white folds of his loose shirt. “Good friend. Best friend. Yes. Are you a friend?”
“I’ve only just arrived here,” Tamsin said, deciding that honesty was the best approach. “I don’t really know Cuan yet. But I don’t want him to die.”
“No.” The strange man fixed her with that curious stare once more. For all his odd manner and alarming appearance, there was a strange innocence in his eyes. “I mean, are we friends? Do I know you? I forget.”
Okaaaaaaaay.
“We haven’t met before,” Tamsin said carefully. “But I would like to be your friend. Can you help Cuan?”