7.07
The splinter found its way to a spot just below Laird’s Adam’s apple. When I pulled it away, it broke, the narrow end of the splinter disappearing beneath welling blood.
Laird dropped to his knees, holding his hands to the wound. I met his eyes as he stared up at me – one was almost crimson, with a bead of red on it. Not from the splinter – something else.
I felt like I wanted to throw up, scream, swing punches and curl up into a ball, all at once. I felt betrayed, if you can even feel betrayed by your enemies.
All of the emotions were at odds with one another, and I was left there, shaking, trying to put the pieces together and remind myself of where I stood.
My thoughts ran backward. From the stabbing to the visions, Evan, Laird grabbing me, Conquest speaking, then I began to wrap my head around the whole situation.
Rose was summoning Pauz. Maggie was… I didn’t know where Maggie was. Somewhere outside.
“Even something so small as a rat can bite, when sufficiently cornered,” Conquest said. “You might want to step forward and help Mr. Behaim. Certain deals were made, and those deals are void if he passes.”
I stared down at Laird. He was covering the wound. I wasn’t sure how you could put pressure on your own throat without strangling yourself, but he seemed to be doing okay.
Until he coughed, hacking out, and a cloud of blood sprayed out with the spit and air.
Not so long ago, Fell had told us to move the bodies of the fallen Sisters so they wouldn’t suffocate on their own vomit.
Once vomit or foreign matter got into the lungs, finding its way past the little valve that decided whether stuff made it to the lungs or the stomach, it became a problem. People could manage fine, or they could die a rapid death.
If he was coughing up blood like that, there was a good bit of blood leaking from the wound, straight to the windpipe.
I bent down.
“Blake,” Evan said.
“Turn over, Laird,” I said. “Face down, better it flows out and up, than inside and down.”
He didn’t move. He stared at me with one bloodshot eye.
“I’ll help,” I said.
I hated touching him. Touching people wasn’t my thing, and touching people who were bigger and stronger than me…
My hand shook as if I’d been electrocuted, as the thought ran through me, clenching even though I hadn’t instructed it to.
“Okay,” I muttered, and I wasn’t even sure Laird heard me. “I can’t help that way… just promised. I’ll… Evan? Help him.”
“Um,” Evan said.
“Please,” I said, quiet.
I half-turned, watching Conquest.
Laird grunted, then started coughing violently as he flopped over, the sparrow playing a role with a bit of a push.
He was face-down, now.
The blood flowed more freely, and leaked between fingers as he clamped his hands to his throat, forming tendrils as it dribbled onto snow.
I reached out, stopping just shy of touching his gloved hands with my own.
It would have made sense, to do it, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
“If I grant you another stay of execution,” Conquest said, “It would be the third. I would be in my rights to demand a favor of you.”
I shook my head, not really in any headspace to form the words. No stay of execution.
I wasn’t in any shape to fight. Physically, I was fine. But every non-physical part of me was in a bad place.
I was shaking, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
Not in any shape to fight, but I didn’t really have a choice.
He held his bayonet rifle like a spear.
My instincts were all wrong. When I’d dealt with Pauz, I’d thought about how skewed my impulses were, especially when by boundaries were breached. This was the same, but it was far more pointed.
My instincts were telling me to go after Conquest, to throw myself at him in an effort to hurt him like I had Laird. To get rid of all of the negative feelings, venting the outward-pointed ones on Conquest, silencing the inward-pointed ones by taking that bayonet to the chest or throat.
It was the simplest, easiest way to make it all stop.
He was approaching, and I was frozen in place, trying to get my mental bearings, to convince myself to move.
Thinking of everything I had to fight for.
But all I really wanted was peace.
The two ideas conflicted.
Conquest took a step forward. Steady, no hesitation, but not rushing either.
A war was going on in my head already as I tried to sort out my thoughts, reaching for some idea that wouldn’t fall apart as soon as it was fully formed.
Alexis, Tiff, Ty, Goosh, Joel. No, I’d done more harm than good.
“Um,” Evan said.
Evan? I couldn’t find a way to complete the thought.
Molly? I’d just avenged her in a way, maybe. There was more to be done, but I’d done something. If I ran into her after I moved on, I could say that much.
No, wrong train of thought.
Conquest drew closer, snow forming clouds around the base of his feet as his weight came down. He was three times my height.
I wouldn’t be able to fight like this, not with my head and heart all mixed up. I couldn’t convince myself to do this smart, instead of doing it reckless.
Rose? I didn’t trust Rose.
Family? No.
The next thought outside family was the lawyers, the nebulous idea of dying and going straight to some miserable afterlife, simply because of the karma that dragged me down.