The Autumn Prince

62. Close to Home

"Lana?" Katherine called to her as we approached. The girl lifted her tear stained face, then leaped to her feet and sprinted toward us. I had to step aside to avoid touching her.

"Oh god, Kath, someone killed Jackie!" she wailed, wrapping her arms around Katherine, then fell to her knees in terror and shock. The air became eerily still and silent, broken only by the choked sobs of Lana's grief. Katherine knelt with her, offering soothing words and a gentle touch, but her eyes were radiating cold violence, like a lioness gathering strength to avenge her pride.

"Tom," Becca said in an even tone, breaking my paralysis. "I need your help."

I blinked once and followed her without thought toward Jackie's body, cursing when I saw the blade in her neck. "Did my dad do this?"

"It doesn't matter now, she's almost gone."

"Almost?"

Becca nodded, "I don't think she'd have an aura if she was all the way dead." Her fingers tightened around the Fferyn. "I'm going to try, but I'm scared. I can't do it by myself."

"What do you need me to do?" Even without checking her vitals, I could see that Jackie had been clinically dead for several minutes at least, but I believed in Becca. If she said there was a chance...

"I can't just put the healing spell on her, but I'm pretty sure I can focus on the parts where she's hurt most, like I did when your ribs were broken. The problem is that knife. It has to come out at the right time without hurting her more or nothing I do will help."

"Do it," I said and gently wrapped my fingers around the lacquered handle. I felt the buzz of anticipation when the Fferyn sent ripples of possibility through the Veil, and glanced back at Katherine. She was hugging her friend Lana, but watched us carefully and gave me a subtle nod, as if she could read the entire situation and our minds all at once.

"I'm starting," Becca said, her voice echoing through the Veil, and violet flames danced around us as her anima burst into life. Caught in the sphere of her light, the scenery practically glowed with bright, saturated colors, as visible threads of her will cradled the dying girl. They probed the vicious cut, and where they touched her, flesh began to knit. Without understanding how, I was suddenly aware of a fracture in Jackie's transverse process, and the millimeter between the knife's edge and her interior carotid artery. The blade hadn't gone straight in, and the esophagus wasn't entirely severed, but her vocal chords were badly damaged.

"This is so weird," I heard Becca exclaim faintly, as if from a distance, whispers upon whispers, merging with my thoughts.

I understand—

"I know stuff,"

Why do I—

"How come I know stuff?"

I wanted to reply, but the information was pouring in too fast, as if my brain had to process input from several sources at once. The artery was a priority or she'd suffer brain damage, even if she didn't bleed out or drown in her own blood. I moved the knife a hair's breadth. Tissue mended. Now the superclavicular nerves were in jeopardy. I moved the knife again with more precision than my hands were capable of on their own, sensing mistakes before they happened and correcting them.

The sharp metal withdrew slowly as Jackie's trachea closed behind it. I turned the blade, applying the slightest pressure against a torn vestibular fold while Becca's magic restored it. After what felt like hours, the tip of the butcher knife cleared the surface of Jackie's skin, leaving an angry, but shallow, cut, and a great deal of blood.

"Is she breathing?" Becca's whispered question summoned me back into the world. Her thoughts were no longer in my head, and that strange influence was gone.