Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

standing guard. Obviously, the other Xarcon soldier who had been taken prisoner during the fighting had not survived.

Siraay nodded to the two lower-ranked soldiers. ‘You’ll both carry him. Drosni,’ she said, pivoting with the intention to tell the head of her unit to fall in behind and tail them to be sure no one ambushed them, but she paused when another groan sounded behind her.

Siraay spun, tensing, but didn’t see anything. Then another groan and a feeble gesture from the ground a body length away.

An injured Resistance soldier.

‘Oh, we missed one.’ Drosni’s dry tone was enough to tell Siraay that he had already dealt with any other Resistance members he had found alive. He moved past her and drew a blade from a boot.

The groan came again, finishing on a higher note. A female.

Then a thought occurred to Siraay. ‘Wait,’ she ordered Drosni. ‘Bind her arms instead.’

Drosni pivoted to look at her, frowning. ‘We’re taking a prisoner?’

Siraay shook her head. ‘We’re capturing intel.’ She motioned to the female still groaning a few steps away from Drosni. ‘Get her up and let’s move. Mother knows those mud-scraping vermin could come back at any moment.’

Drosni nodded and walked across to the fallen soldier, yanking her up cruelly enough to make her cry out.

Siraay smiled.

***

They were moving as fast as they could while dragging along the injured Resistance soldier and carrying the unconscious Pyron when Torina called out to Siraay.

‘Uh, lady, I think the chief archon has stopped breathing.’

Siraay sighed irritably, gesturing for the two soldiers to lower Pyron to the ground, the pair treating him with far more care than Siraay thought he required.

This stop would cost them time, and they still weren’t close enough to Xarcon City to be safe yet.

What’s more, the absolute darkness meant they had to be even more careful about footing and alterations in terrain.

Siraay hurried the few steps back to Lifron and Torina, noting that the sergeant made their female prisoner halt a little way from the rest of the group.

Drosni also kept his distance, and from the corner of her eye, Siraay could see his head continuously swivelling as he scanned the surrounding gloom.

Siraay bent over Pyron, placing a hand on his chest. She frowned, then bent still closer, positioning her ear above his mouth. After a moment, she was certain. He was still breathing, but barely.

She sighed, brushing stray hairs back from her face in annoyance, then flinched when her fingertips grazed her neck, the odd injury she had taken beginning to burn with pain once more, hotter and sharper than ever.

Siraay looked down upon Pyron’s unconscious face with loathing. They all needed medical attention to some degree, including their prisoner, who could provide them with valuable information about the movements of the Resistance and explain why they had been hiding out in these mountains in the first place.

So if Pyron was going to die, she wished he would just hurry up and do it.

Torina and Lifron were looking from her to the chief archon and back again, but it was Drosni who spoke what they were all thinking.

‘You can do it, can’t you? Heal him?’

Siraay stilled. So they knew about that. Part of her felt annoyed at Drosni for asking—what better way could there be for Siraay to be free of Pyron and his aggressive attitude than for him to die here? Now. But if she refused to heal him, or hesitated, Chezran would learn of it from Drosni, or through other channels.

She let out a huff of breath, then studied her hands. She had healed Genlie—brought her friend back. But how had she done it?

Suddenly, her neck burned, the pain swiftly spiking to an intensity that almost made Siraay pass out. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid, and she began to sweat, her hands going to her neck.

Almost. Her palms were up at chin level when she noticed the glow.

Then the pain seared through her again, and she slapped her hands down on Pyron’s chest, wanting it to be done, wanting to heal herself. She could feel it now—that spring of power within her, uncoiling and running free as it traversed her body and flowed through her and into Pyron.

Siraay gasped at the sensation. It was like part of her was almost being sucked in, Pyron’s body taking what it needed from her. She wondered how long she could maintain the flow, how long it would be until that store of energy within her ran out.

But soon Siraay’s breathing began to grow easier, and then she felt a cool breeze against her sweaty face and neck.

A loud gasp and the chief archon sat up, his blue eyes moving wildly beneath the mask. ‘What happened?’

Siraay snorted in disgust and rose from her crouch at Pyron’s side, taking a long step away from him. It was that movement that made her realise that her neck and arm no longer hurt. Although, her arm was still covered in her own dried blood.

Startled, Siraay lifted one hand to her left cheek, and then she breathed out a sigh—part relief, part confusion—that her facial scars hadn’t diminished at all.

She didn’t know whether to be happy that she had healed herself or disgusted that Pyron would now continue to live and annoy her. She could decide later.

Looking up, Siraay saw Drosni, the sergeant, Torina, and Lifron all gaping at her in what seemed to be varying levels of awe.

‘Keep moving!’ she snapped at them, her voice like the crack of a whip breaking through their thrall. She was done with this day.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

AS SOON AS Siraay’s little group reached the borders of the city, the sergeant signalled those patrolling the tops of the outer walls, and they were met just outside of the main gates by Xarcon sentries.

Siraay heard the sergeant giving orders that a messenger should be sent to Lord Chezran immediately, and that the chief archon should be escorted to the palace, having been recently injured.

After pausing for a moment to watch a