Chapter 51: Behemoth Spit

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"Agatha."

The muffled name is mine. I'm Agatha. The rippling movement of the world around me means I'm underwater. Dathid's words are dampened, making it impossible to understand him. How am I in the woods and underwater?

How long have I been holding my breath? Why don't I need to breathe? The rapid thud in my chest means my heart is working. I can't be underwater and in the same place I was before I blacked out.

I open my mouth and pull air into my lungs. It burns, but with that smallest swallow my ears tune into Dathid, who is cradling my head, and calmly coaxing me to inhale. I try to cough, but I don't have enough breath. I take another burning gasp.

My heart is racing. I can't take in enough oxygen. I sip tiny bursts of air until I have enough to produce a pitiful cough that loosens my lungs and makes my chest heave. With each gulp, my cough gets stronger.

Dathid's supporting me and stroking my arm. I blink sweaty tears from my eyes, and I lift my shaking hand to wipe my face. He hugs me. It hurts, but I don't want him to let me go. I want to hug him back, but my body doesn't cooperate. I'm not sure what scared him worse, the gnomes or me almost dying in his arms.

"Are you alright?" he whispers to my neck.

"I think so. How about you?"

He lifts his head but continues to hold me. He wipes the sweaty hair from my face and uses his sleeve to clean me up a bit. I stare at his worried face. I think back to the good-looking angry prince I met when I first arrived. How long ago was that? We have both aged so much. Was it the passage of time or the gaining of experience that has done this to us?

He eases me into a fully upright position. The world tilts for a second, but I get my bearings and take a deep breath. It no longer burns, but the bite on my shoulder does. Surprisingly, the hand the gnome fell on is fine. I flex it a few times to make sure it doesn't hurt.

He holds up his arm to show me the gaping wound that needs stitches. "It doesn't hurt too bad, but we've slowed our chopping progress down even further."

I flex my back to see if the young gnome did the same thing to me with its back feet. It hurts, but my armor held. There is a gash at my hip, and my ribs are sore, but I don't think I broke anything else.

We help each other get up and take in the carnage as we make our way out of the clearing.

"We need to learn to count," he says.

The guilt is back. I didn't count. I didn't think it was important. There were five adults. Why didn't I admit that I wasn't paying attention? Such a stupid lie, and it almost got us killed.

Jonah practically jumps on me when we make it back to them. "Are you injured? Where are you bleeding?" he asks as he roughly grabs my upper arms and sends volts of pain shooting down my spine.

"I'm fine. Thanks for your concern," Dathid says sarcastically, but he ends up repeating it for real when Goutadge wraps him in the sweetest hug.

"I'm okay too," I answer Jonah. "My poor shoulder has a few more cuts, but my armor protected most of it." I don't tell him about everything else because it's over, and I don't want him more upset than he already is.

He grabs my chin in order to examine the scratches on my face, but he disturbs my burns, and I jump back. "Whatever's there is nothing compared to the burns, so don't worry about it," I tell him.

"You're going to have to seal this for me," Dathid says, and it takes me a moment to realize he's talking to me about his gaping shoulder.

I want to say no, but I know Goutadge can't do it with her sausage fingers. I don't know why Jonah can't, but I think seeing beings injured bothers him on a physical level.

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