Not that Rayne was even sure he had the power to save this man’s life. Shey’s aim had been perfect, slicing straight into the attacker’s heart. But he’d healed wounds on Caelan and aided in removing Drayce’s seasickness. He could at least keep the heart working long enough for Caelan to arrive.
Bracing his left hand on the assassin’s shoulder, Rayne wrapped his fingers around the handle of the knife still buried in his chest and slowly pulled. A long, pained moan left the man’s parted lips. Hot blood gushed forth and Rayne dropped the knife on the deck to cover the wound with both hands.
It took three tries to clear his mind enough to pull on the power of the Goddess of Life, who was warming a spot behind his heart. Spooling up the winding energy, he sent it down his arms and into the man’s chest, directing it straight to his heart. The organ was sluggish and stumbling, seeming to choke on the blood. His eyes were starting to drift shut so he could focus completely on closing the fatal wound when the man coughed and shifted.
“I won’t let you save me.” The attacker’s voice was barely more than a rattle.
Sharp pain lanced through Rayne’s side and his hold on the healing gift shattered. The man’s hand fell limp at his side. Rayne cursed as he twisted to see a smaller knife sticking out of his side. The bastard had possessed a second weapon they didn’t think to check for. Gritting his teeth, Rayne gathered together the healing power again and pushed it into the man, but he was fading fast. His heart was missing more beats than hitting them.
“Rayne!” Several people were shouting for him and footsteps pounded across the deck, growing closer, but he couldn’t stop.
“Let him go! I’ve got it!” Caelan suddenly ordered. He wasn’t sure when the king had arrived. Rayne simply blinked and he was right there, kneeling next to the assassin. “I need to heal you—”
“No!” Rayne snapped. “Heal him. We need to know who sent him, what his orders were.”
Hands gently closed on his shoulders and moved him to sit on the deck, his back against the railing. Rayne glanced up to find Eno kneeling next to him. His face was a harsh scowl, but his hands were so wonderfully tender.
“I need to remove the knife. Hold very still,” Eno warned.
Rayne managed a nod, clenching his teeth.
Eno didn’t count or say anything else. He grabbed the hilt and ripped the blade free, tossing it aside as if it were something despicable. The bodyguard pressed his hand over Rayne’s, trying to hold the wound shut. A small cry of pain escaped Rayne before he could stop it. He’d been hurt worse, he knew he had, but he was having a damn hard time remembering it right at that moment.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” he panted. He tried to flash Eno a reassuring smile, but Eno’s expression remained stony. “Caelan?”
“There was an attack, but Drayce stopped him.”
“That fucker’s dead,” Drayce grumbled.
Rayne found Shey and Drayce standing over Caelan as he worked. A faint green glow surrounded the king. It swirled around him like a mist, then dove into the assassin’s chest.
“Can you heal yourself?” Eno asked. Some of the gruffness had left his tone and a hint of worry leaked in.
With his free hand, Rayne gripped Eno’s wrist and squeezed. “I can try. I…I just need a second to catch my breath.”
“Emperor…Emperor…” the assassin choked out.
“What about the Emperor?” Caelan roared. “I won’t let you die until you tell me who sent you, what your orders were.”
“Emperor wants…you…dead. Dead. He wants you dead.” The man choked on a laugh, spitting up more blood.
Snarling, Caelan shoved back to his feet and paced away from the assassin. Rayne couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man as he watched the life drain out of him. His black eyes turned dull, and his final breath rattled up his throat. No matter where they went, the Emperor of New Rosanthe would be on their heels. He was determined to see Caelan dead along with any who tried to help him.
TWO
Caelan Talos
Caelan paced the small open floor in Drayce’s room. They’d relocated from Caelan’s quarters since Shey’s men were still dealing with the dead body they’d left in there. Shey had burst in just seconds after Drayce had killed Caelan’s attacker.
The assassin had been let in under the excuse that Shey had sent them an afternoon snack. He was lucky Drayce’s reflexes were so fast. His best friend had snatched up a metal coffeepot from the tray the man had set down and bashed his head the moment he’d moved toward Caelan with a knife. There had been no chance to save his life for questioning.
“King Caelan, I am deeply sorry for this attack on your person. I would have never thought one of my own people—” Shey broke off as if he couldn’t give voice to the words. The prince looked paler than even Rayne, who was currently resting on Drayce’s bed with a fierce scowl. Shey stood near the foot of the bed, his body stiff and head bowed.
Caelan had made quick work of healing Rayne, but his advisor had lost a good deal of blood. He was off his feet for the rest of the day whether he liked it or not.
“He wasn’t one of your men,” Caelan corrected. “I’d wager neither of them was.”
Shey’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I saw…sort of glimpses of images while I was trying to heal him.” Caelan paused, trying to clarify his own thoughts, but they were a jumbled mess. He hadn’t expected to be able to get any of the man’s thoughts or memories while healing him. But then, he understood so little of his connection with Tula. “It wasn’t much, but I clearly saw Rayne’s assassin speaking to Lord High Commander Grim. He had orders to kill me.”
“So why was he going after Prince Shey?” Rayne demanded.
“Shey?” Eno asked in shock. “He wasn’t attacking you?”
“No, he was trying to stab me in the back,” Shey answered, sending a small smile across to Rayne. “Rayne moved me out of the way and wrestled the knife out of his hand. He saved my life.”
Caelan had questions about how the hell Rayne had ended up with a knife in his side, but he shook his head. That was for later. “It’s likely all the assassins put on my trail have orders to kill me as well as anyone who might be helping me.”
“You don’t think this is because of his tie to the Wind Stone?” Drayce inquired, mentioning the godstone that had its home in Caspagir.
Caelan shook his head. “No. I don’t think the Empire is yet aware that Shey has a link to the Wind Stone.”
Shey grunted and dropped into the one chair in the room. It was by the desktop bolted to the wall that Drayce had no use for other than a place to hold snacks when he was up for eating. “I’ve practiced a little, but not where anyone else can see me.”
Drayce scratched his head where he was leaning against the wall. “Yeah, it would probably be smart to keep that from people as long as you can.”
“What I don’t get is, why now?” Eno waved one arm at them and made a sound of disgust. “We’ve been at sea for more than a week. They could have attacked during the middle of the night and had a higher chance of success.”