Free Of the Abyss by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

eyes.”

 
    CHAPTER 8
    T here was blood in Hansa’s left eye. He blinked, and it seemed to take an impossible effort to open his eyes again after that.
    He was on the street, in a residential area. Someone was kneeling next to him and weeping. Everyone else had run.
    Almost everyone.
    His vision was going dim, but nevertheless, he couldn’t help but see that one person had stayed, and was kneeling next to the body of the soldier Hansa had carried out with him. He was a man, and then, for an instant . . . not a man. He looked up at Hansa, and his detached expression quickly changed to concern.
    â€œHelp me?” Hansa whispered.
    The man flinched as if Hansa had struck him.
    â€œI’m trying. ” He recognized Ruby’s hitching, fiercely-­controlled voice. Had she seen the man? Was he even there? “You’re—­you’re going to be okay. I’ve sent for a healer, and I’ll do everything I can until someone arrives.” She shifted, and he realized she had all her weight on the wounds on his back. Shouldn’t that hurt more?
    â€œPlease,” Hansa whispered.
    The man snarled, his lip drawing back for an instant, and then he shook his head and walked toward Hansa, his movements a delicate glide, catlike. He put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder and said, “Go.”
    She stood up, then paused, frowning down at Hansa as if confused. “I should—­”
    â€œGo,” the stranger said again, his blue eyes seeming to flash.
    â€œOkay,” she mumbled, still frowning. She took several steps back, as if trying to remember what she had been doing, then turned to leave. Hansa almost called after her, but his voice broke.
    Still standing above Hansa, the man said, “I can heal you, if you ask me.”
    Not human, Hansa thought. A mancer? Why would a mancer be offering to help him?
    What else could he be?
    â€œI could leave you to die if you prefer,” the man said.
    Hansa wasn’t brave enough to accept that offer, no matter what the man might be. “Help. Please. ”
    â€œOne boon,” the man said, the words sounding very formal.
    He knelt, and pressed a hand directly to the wound on Hansa’s back, making Hansa whimper. He was too weak to scream any more.
    The world went black. For a while, Hansa was sure he was dead, but then he opened his eyes. The pain was still present, though lessened, but the growing pool of blood was . . . gone. He managed to reach a hand back, and found his armored vest tattered, but his flesh whole.
    The man stood and started walking away.
    â€œWait!” Hansa called, through a throat that was raw from trying to scream. The man hesitated, his frame going rigid. “What . . . who are you?”
    He twisted, just far enough for electric blue eyes to meet Hansa’s. “My name is Umber,” he said. “And I only assisted you because, if you lived, the taint from the Abyssi might have made you dangerous. Do not call to me again.”
    With that, he stalked from the plaza.
    Everything was blurry. The pain had gone away and the blood had disappeared, but Hansa still felt too tired to lift himself from the cobblestone plaza.
    But he had to get up. The Abyssi could still be around. The others might need him.
    He pushed himself to his knees, but was shaking by the time he got there, and his breath was coming so hard the muscles in his chest felt strained. He tried to go further, to stand, but ended up collapsing all the way back to the cold ground. Maybe he could just rest a little while . . .
    â€œH ansa!”
    â€œUuh?” Couldn’t he sleep a bit longer?
    â€œHansa, I can’t carry you. You have to get up! Can you hear me?”
    Ruby. That was Ruby’s voice.
    In what he considered to be a remarkable act of willpower and valor, he opened his eyes.
    â€œThat’s it, baby,” Ruby said. “Wake up. You hear me. You can’t