The Midnight Storm (A New Dawn #2)

Chapter 13 - Nick

He groaned louder. He was dying, not a muttonhead.

"I need you to open your eyes."

He moaned in protest, flopping his head from side to side.

"Nicolas, this is your General speaking," the General said firmly. "You must obey. If you have the courage to disturb an execution, then you can allow Lieutenant Raymond to tend your wounds. Show us your eyes."

Nick spat out the strange cloth. "I can't."

"You must." As the General spoke, a fresh piece was pushed into his mouth. "Bite the leather. And... err... think of your favourite story."

Through the pain and the taste of someone's old shoe, a small part of his mind wandered to the afternoon he and Princess Lana had spent on the King's couch in his office, stuffing their faces with biscuits and reading the hilarious tale of Lucas and his noble steed, Rupert, who had clumsily united the Horse Lords to fight for one true King of The Greenlands. 

Billy, too, had loved that story. And he loved Billy.

For Billy, he could be brave.

Yet as he tried opening his eyes, he was physically unable to do so. His eyelids were plastered to his eyeballs that any attempt sent a lightning bolt through him. 

He twisted and wriggled at the mercy of the Gods.

"I'll do it for him."

Two fingers yanked his right eye open, bringing forth the fresh storm of pain. Ice cold water stung his eyes, a thousand ice shards piercing the flames. In the brief intervals between two pourings, everything remained an eerie, burning white.

Eyes open or closed, he saw just as much.

Nothing.

His body convulsed, the shaking controlled by the men holding him and the rough snakes biting him. He spewed out the leather as bile rose in his throat, but came no further than a retch.

"I can't see anything!" he wailed. "Why can't I see anything?"

"The iris is still there, but it has lost all colour. The rest is bloodred, which is better than black," said Lieutenant Raymond, ignoring him. "I'm going to check the left one. Keep pouring water."

"No, stop!" Nick cried out."I can't see!"

"Here." The owner of the friendly, low voice he vaguely recognised grabbed his hand. "Squeeze as hard as you can."

And that he did as the burning light tore him apart, his nails digging into the man's skin, his teeth grinding each other. He was crying, sobbing even, but instead of tears, there was just more fire.

"Black iris, Lieutenant. What does this mean?" the General demanded.

Lieutenant Raymond inhaled sharply. "I don't..."

"This is what you get when you don't have a proper Healer, Frank!" the General barked.

Captain Frank remained calm. "The boy should not have intervened. This happened on your watch, General."

"I know." The General's voice had softened. "But it happened—it's done now. Do what you can to help him."

"I'm afraid that all we can do is wait."

"Explain."

"Burn wounds, General," Lieutenant Raymond began. "The real wound and the severity, especially regarding eyes, doesn't become visible until hours—maybe a day—after an incident. At this stage, it's simply too early to tell."