Feyla hit the floor in a slump. Her ears rang, but not enough to block out Delia's frantic footsteps pounding down the hallway. A cold staff blade touched her throat, forcing her to lift her head. Desden Carrow glared down at her, a smile tight across his thin lips. "Feyla."
Feyla's lips curled into a snarl. She jerked her head toward Jaerick, who groaned from across the room. The thick, metallic scent of blood mixed with burnt skin and singed Feyla's nose. Jaerick clutched his magic-blacked leg wound and met her gaze briefly before pain racked through him again and his eyes shut.
"Should've helped me when I asked, Feyla," Desden said. "Now we're doing the hard way again." Desden's ears twitched toward the door as Delia reached it.
Delia slammed into the doorway, her hand stretched out toward her husband in desperation. "Jaerick!" she choked out at the sight of him, only to recoil when Desden's staff ignited and left Feyla's throat to better threaten them both.
"Even better. You get in and you get up," Desden ordered, shoving Feyla roughly with his foot.
"Des, we—we shouldn't be doing this," Dormaeus whispered behind him as his brother forced Feyla and Delia into the opposite corner as Jaerick.
"Don't know what's best for you, brother. We're fixing you." Desden kept his staff aimed at Feyla and Delia.
Feyla measured the distance between that staff and Jaerick. She could see Delia doing the same, her friend's eyes clouded with angry tears. Maybe it was those that kept her from seeing what was obvious. They might avoid the first blast but there was no chance that they'd make it out with Jaerick unscathed.
"M'all right, Delia," Jaerick slurred unconvincingly. Desden grabbed him by his ruddy hair and turned his face away from the gaze he'd held with his wife.
"Try this again. Give me the memory spell notes, or I'll blast your Delia, then Feyla, then you again until there's nothing left to blast from all of you."
Jaerick blinked long and slow. Feyla realized that he didn't know how the wizard knew both her name and the fact that he often said "My Delia" when referring to his wife.
But she knew.
The tiniest of smirks curled around the edges of Desden's mouth and the sensation of been peeled bare scraped over her again. Before she could come up with a plan, before she could even react with more than a glare, Jaerick spoke.
"The shelf beside your head. There's a...a sealed vault behind it," he forced the words out and twisted his neck enough to find his wife again.
Desden released him and tore the books off the shelf. They clattered to the floor, scattering loose papers everywhere. After getting the combination from Jaerick, Desden clicked it open and removed a slim, brown leather sleeve. A white wax seal embossed with the open-hands symbol of the Healer's Guild held closed its secrets. Desden's hands shook with boyish eagerness, the cruel wizard from earlier temporarily banished as he grinned at his older brother like he'd just brought home perfect marks from school.
A single shout, then several, carried down the halls. Desden's head twitched toward the sound, neck craned and ears alert. He grabbed hold of his brother's shoulder and peeked out the door. "Gates." Desden's hand bore into his brother's shirt before he shot off down the hall, dragging Dormaeus with him.
Delia lunged at her husband the moment the doorway emptied. Her hands cup his face in wordless relief before the healer part of her snapped back into place. "Your leg— burnt, I can—"
"Delia," Jaerick whispered, the name the only word he deemed worth the effort to say.
Delia gripped his hand and turned her head to Feyla sharply. As a healer, her voice was usually calm. Professional. Soothing. Now her words were a scalpel. They cut through all gentleness and compassion, leaving only deathly righteous anger. "Don't let them leave the grounds."
Feyla was out the door before Delia could turn back to Jaerick.
Her feet pounded down the hall and old patterns slipped into place. Her hands brushed over her belt, her gear, checking that everything was where it belonged. Gone was the confused, hurting, guilt-ridden woman from the rooftop. All that was left was Feyla Everbloom, battle healer, righter of wrongs. She could fix this.
A familiar shout rang behind her. Her heart reached for it but her mind blocked it out, turning it muted and unimportant. Fix this. She could fix this.
The hallway turned. Feyla grasped onto the corner and propelled herself around the curve without missing a step. Then Mother would finally see her the way she was. No more disappointed glares, not from Arilla, not from anyone.
A door dangled off its hinges from where it had been blasted open. Feyla slid under it and sharp splinters dug into her arm. She jerked herself free and ignored the pain blooming on her skin. Night greeted her and the muggy heat attempted to rip the air from her lungs.
Two shadows swept across the courtyard and made their way behind the research center toward the gate at the back of the guild house's wall. Feyla hesitated only a moment before veering toward the wall surrounding the guild buildings. She leaped onto a gardening lattice in the herb garden and clambered up the wall. Her feet wobbled at the top of the smooth stone wall before she found her balance and half ran half jumped along it.
The gates came in sight when the stone under her feet cracked and crumbled when a blast hit just below her. The ground reached up as Feyla tumbled off of the wall and hit the ground hard.
"Just don't quit, do you?" Desden said. In the deepening night with his back to the courtyard's lamplight, the only thing visible was the sharp outline of his nose against the shadows of his face.
"Des, please don't!" Dormaeus called out from behind his brother. The half of his face not covered in shadows looked broken and twisted. "We can find some other way to fix me, please."
Desden didn't flinch at his brother's pleads. "There's only one way." He raised his staff.
Feyla's nails dug into the ground. Desden's blast flew at her and she yanked herself to the left. Lunging at Desden, she threw caution to the wind. His staff rammed into her side but she reached out and gripped it, refusing to be smacked away again. Desden growled at her. He ignited one hand with magic and moved to hit her in the chest with his arm's closer range. Feyla went for his neck.
Desden's other hand dropped the staff and grabbed her arm. He smirked only for a second, but that brief moment of certainty before realization was enough for Feyla to drop the staff as well and block his magic with a firm double hit to the chest.
Desden recoiled, pain curling his lips. Unlike a curse that had once been on Sedgewick, Feyla's magic block would wear off much sooner than she wanted. Feyla's hands slipped back into her stance, a smirk mirroring Desden's former one now on her lips. She shot forward like a viper. Dormaeus wretched her prey away.
His chest heaved and his eyes blinked wildly like he was just as shocked as Feyla at his actions. "D—don't hurt him." Dormaeus forced the words out.
Feyla shifted her feet. So close, she was so close but... "I'm not going to hurt either of you."
"Lying is unbecoming," Desden snarled. "And I know what you are."
The words hit Feyla's chest with the force of a brick. She stumbled back half a step, her chest constricting so hard that she lost her breath. That cold resolved she'd had earlier in the chase melted and Feyla found herself no longer staring at her quarry but a pair of siblings with a different kind of lost in both of their eyes. The trail of lies that had allowed her to follow them stretched out at her feet. She wouldn't trust her own intentions either. Daydrel's words from earlier that day—had it really been such a short time?—reverberated through her head. "Saw an opportunity and took it... No reason to make it look more noble than it is..."
She wouldn't trust her own intentions either.
A lilac blast cut through the darkness. Desden raised his hands in a fruitless effort to shield them. His brother's magic flared up instead. Sandrina's magic burnt out against Dormaeus's spell ward. His hand glowed red and his arm shook after taking the full strength of Sandrina's blast. The amnesiac wizard's eyes bugged out while his voice rose in pitch. "Desden, I don't remember what I'm doing!"
"Doesn't matter, run!" The two dashed off. Feyla jerked out of the way of a wild, yellow blast from Mydel. She glared at the two mages. They'd cost her valuable seconds. Sucking in a breath, Feyla flew into pursuit again.
"Get the gates out of the way!" screamed Sandrina behind her. Feyla stole a glance over her shoulder and spotted Sedgewick gripping Sandrina's ignited staff, a burnt spot on the courtyard in front of her.
The brothers had made it to the gate. Desden kicked it open, dragging his brother behind him. Their forms blurred in the darkness of outside the healer's guild house, becoming matching shadows fleeing into the night. A sun-orange flare flew safely by one side of Feyla.
The two merging figures separated. The closest one froze and Feyla pounced. Sedgewick's magic broke through a red ward as Feyla tackled the figure to the ground while the other vanished into the night. She struck true and Dormaeus, not Desden, slumped to the ground unconscious.
***************
Author's Note: Another last-minute release but it's done! One wizard down, one to go. How will Desden react to his brother's capture? What will happen now that he has Jaerick's research? How was Feyla's inner monologue? Will I get the next chapter out at a decent hour? Who knows! Let me know your thoughts in the comments!