Nel flew through the air. Her back impacted something hard.
She kept going.
Glass shattered all around her. Pain laced through her back and arms.
Fresh air rushed into her lungs as she gasped in a breath. The cool February sun cradled her as she cried out.
Nel fell.
Pain pierced one of her eyes as she landed. A shard of glass dug into her side.
Nel lay in the thin layer of melting snow. She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to move. The thought itself sent needles through her entire body. Actually moving would only be worse.
Maybe the devil would leave. Maybe it would think she died.
No. He knew what he was doing. Even if he did leave, Sister Cross would show up sooner or later. She’d finish the job.
Nel tried to connect again. The source wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Her pain flooded through the connection rather than to her mind.
With the source’s strength, Nel dragged herself to her feet. “Diagnostic: Self,” Nel mumbled. Information trickled into her mind. She started hobbling away. Anywhere else.
“Fractured left ulna. Fractured left radius. Blood loss detected.”
Nel trudged through the snow. She didn’t look back. If the devil was there, she didn’t want to look.
“Major lacerations across full body. Foreign objects detected. Additional details available.”
Whatever additional details the source had for her could wait. They wouldn’t be good news.
“Heal: Self.”
“Level Psalm healing available. Seek designated mender for additional care.”
Nel cursed to herself. Not that she expected better for an augur. On the bright side, she wouldn’t bleed out anytime soon. The burn of Psalms gushed through her veins. She grit her teeth as she continued moving.
The snow had melted off the sidewalks earlier in the week; at least she wasn’t leaving a nice footpath to follow. The blood would stop soon enough, if it hadn’t already. No one could follow her at the very least.
Transportation. She needed transportation. Something, anything to get her away.
There were people at the school. People who could teleport. It wasn’t a far distance. Nothing was a far distance from anything in Brakket. She could make it.
She had to make it.
The main part of the city drew closer. Tall buildings. Tight alleys. Places to hide.
Nel leaned against the brick wall of a shop. She slumped against it, but stayed on her feet. There was no guarantee she would get back up if she collapsed to the ground. She struggled breathing a few deep, raspy breaths.
The shop owner. They could contact the school. Nel wouldn’t have to walk all the way.
No. What if they contacted the nuns. What if whoever the shop owner got a hold of at the school misunderstood and contacted the nuns.
Nel pushed off the side of the building. She stumbled around back, moving through the alley. She couldn’t think about such things. They had to help her.
Without frankincense, Nel couldn’t concentrate on seeing. There were brief glimpses ahead of her path, nothing more. Her sight jumped around the corner of the alley before she did. Just enough warning to stop.
An older man, balding, stood just outside his building. He leaned against the wall near a doorway. Every now and again, he’d bring a cigarette to his mouth and take a deep drag.
Nel waited. She couldn’t do much else. Her eyelids started to droop. She shook it off. Launching her vision around the corner, Nel watched the man. It took an eternity, but he went back inside the building.
A sigh escaped her lips. It took another minute to muster the effort to move on.
Pushing off from the wall, Nel continued.
Lumbering along through the alleys had Nel feeling the pain. All of the pain. Even shunting it off to the source didn’t stop it from existing. The longer she shunted it, the more prominent it became. Before long, being connected wouldn’t help at all.
The most bothersome feeling came from her tunic. It was soaking wet. She forgot about her bath.
Her nice, hot bath.
It seemed so long ago.
The diagnostic hadn’t mentioned hypothermia or frostbite. She’d only been outside for a few minutes at that point. Her feet were bare. No doubt she’d stepped on things not meant for bare feet while walking down the alleys. The source would have dampened a lot of pain, not to mention the overpowering feeling from her other wounds.
Nel stretched out a hand. White fire danced from her fingertips. She kept it small, not wanting any accidents. Nel huddled up as close as she dared.
It barely warmed her, if it warmed her at all. She couldn’t feel the heat. Holy fire wasn’t hot, not unless it was burning evil. The other sisters could probably stand in it without any side effects. Nel didn’t have any other options.
The red crystal focus was as good as gone.
Nel extinguished the fire with a wave of her hand. It wasn’t doing enough. She shoved off the ground and stumbled her first few steps until she fell into a rhythm. She kept one hand–her good hand–on the alley wall, as much as she could.
