Blood ran down my shoulder to my elbow. I tried to breathe, but the smoke hit all at once, and the cough came dry, rattling through my chest.
None of that, though, compared to the moment his hand pressed down on the wound.
My back arched against the wall. I fixed my gaze on a point in the charred wood and tried to focus on anything but him as he worked the bandage around my shoulder.
The pain didn't let up, and my hand closed around his wrist before I'd even registered what I was doing. He didn't move an inch—just held the contact, steady.
"You want to hurry this up—" I said through my teeth.
He looked at me for a second, then went back to the bandage without a word, like the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist. Above us, the gears of the monumental clock turned, and the chimes struck midnight.
Barely a square meter was free of flame. The wood at my back grew hotter by the second. On the other side of the door, claws tore at it in rhythmic, heavy blows, and each impact shuddered up through the floor beneath my feet.
I looked back at Elend just as he pressed harder on my shoulder, finishing the wrap. The air left my lungs. A scream tore out of my throat, and the urge to hit him with my free arm came right along with it.
"Son of a bitch!" I snapped.
"I'm trying to help you," he said, tilting his face until it nearly brushed my cheek. "Or maybe you don't need it—being immortal and all, Lady Zara?"
I tightened my grip on his wrist and shoved my shoulder into his hand, feeling the blood start flowing again.
"I bleed like anything else in this world, Elend," I said, breathless. "If I lose enough of it… I go somewhere close to dead."
"Surviving hell inside the Lord of Shadows' castle just to end up as werewolf kindling—" A feminine voice, light and dripping with amusement, floated down from above. "What a tragic ending, Zara."
I looked up and found Syllee—all fifteen centimeters of her—perched cross-legged on the clock's frame like this was the best show she'd seen in years.
"Syl—" The air came out through my nose. "Try not to make this worse with your commentary."
"Commentary?" She drifted down a few centimeters, wings giving a lazy beat. "I'm just pointing out a pattern. You always stop thinking the second some pretty young face asks for help, you little cradle robber."
"You're the one who dragged us into this hellhole," I shot back, jaw tight.
The pressure on my shoulder was finally taking effect—the blood that had been running freely slowed to a thin trickle, and the pain sharpened into a single point I could actually manage.
"I think that'll do," Elend said. "But for the most powerful mage in the world, I expected more."
"You actually believe what bards sing about people?" I asked, making a face. "Most of what you've heard about me, if it came from their stories… it's probably a lie."
His brow pulled together, and I recognized the look—the particular shock of someone watching a childhood myth collapse. The claws hit the door again, hard enough to nearly tear the hinges free. We held each other's gaze for a moment before I looked away.
"Guess this is where our brief partnership ends," Elend said, his hand still firm at my waist. "What should I put on your headstone?"
I tilted my head slightly. The warmth of his hand pressed into my side, and my breath caught.
"Why am I the only one dying?" I looked back at him.
He let out a short laugh. I answered with a scoff.
"If you make it out, let them know I'll be back to haunt everyone who's annoyed me these past few days," I said. "That includes you."
Elend smiled—that sideways pull of the mouth—but he didn't let go. When part of the flames lurched toward us, he leaned further over me, putting himself between me and the fire.
At the same time, I brought my hand to the center of my chest and pressed against my sternum until my breathing obeyed.
The air came in rough, thick with smoke and loose particles of mana. Somewhere in that state, I found myself wondering which decision—out of centuries of them—had dragged me from the side of the so-called Celestial Hero to a burning tower.
Alaric crossed my mind, and I almost laughed, because if he'd been there, his impulsiveness would have already guaranteed things got worse.
"You going to stay in your own little world, or are you actually going to do something useful?" Syllee cut through my thoughts. "That door's not going to hold much longer, Zara."