The next morning, when Señora Behike came to check Elena's wounds, Jaime didn't waste time.
"We need to get her to the Wellspring of Coabey," he said, voice low but unyielding. "Coatriskie himself told me we should. I think… it's worth a try."
His gaze found Elena beneath the quilt, her lashes heavy from another round of sedatives. She managed a ghost of a smile before her eyes drifted closed again. Jaime reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers.
"Anything to help you is worth it," he murmured, trying to keep his face a steady harbor while inside, grief swelled so high it threatened to drag him under.
Señora Behike crossed her arms, weighing his words. "It might accelerate her healing," she admitted, eyes flicking toward Elena. Her mouth thinned. "But she may not survive the journey without further harm. Even a single jolt could tear the stitches… or shatter the bone again before it's ready."
Jaime tightened his grip on Elena's hand. Even through the haze of the sedatives, her fingers answered with the barest squeeze. "How long would it take to make the path safe enough?"
"A few days," Behike said at last, kneeling beside the bed. Green light spiraled into her palms, weaving itself into the delicate repairs over Elena's chest. "Perhaps a week."
Jaime nodded, but before he could speak, Elena's body arched violently. A tremor rolled through her, her eyes snapping open- violet light pouring from within, pupils narrowing to serpentine slits. Her scars blazed like molten rivers beneath her skin, even the newest ones.
A voice slid into the air, low and coiling like smoke.
There is another way… but it will cost us.
Jaime's breath caught. The air thickened, heavy with brine. Salt stung his tongue. Droplets clung to his skin. His braids hung sodden against his neck. His vision deepened into a churning sea-blue glow as his god stepped forward.
I'm here, my beloved
Coatriskie rumbled, the sound like waves over black rock.
Speak.
Señora Behike bowed her head in deference but did not falter, her healing light still pressed to Elena's ribs.
Guabancex's voice unfurled- velvet over steel, terrible and alluring.
One breath… one strike of my lightning… and you will stand at the Wellspring. But know this, mi amor- your arms must be the fortress that holds her, for if she falls from my grasp in the crossing, she will not rise again. My power is not whole. My body aches with weakness… and yet, for her, I would burn the sky itself. I need you.
Behike's magic flickered for a heartbeat. "Last time you tried this, it nearly cost her soul," she said sharply. "There is always a price."
Coatriskie's laugh rolled through Jaime's chest, dark and amused.
Last time was a test for that stupid lion. This is no test.
Behike's lips pressed thin, her gaze locked on Elena. "Mi dioses, I honor you. But give her a few days. Let her strength root itself before you tear her from this place. Then we will try your way."
Elena trembled, her body straining to bear the weight of both gods. Her breath shivered. Sweat rolled down her temple.
For a long moment, Guabancex was silent. Then Coatriskie inclined Jaime's head in a slow, solemn nod.
You have my word.
The air shattered back to itself. Saltwater poured from Jaime's mouth as he gasped, chest heaving. Elena lay limp, shivering from the storm's retreat, her violet light fading into the shadows.
Jaime didn't care about the cold soaking his clothes. He was already there, brushing wet curls from her forehead.
Her breathing was ragged, the sound raw in her throat. He pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring soft promises until her lashes lowered once more.
Señora Behike said nothing. She simply set her hands to work again, green light seeping back into the wounds the gods had roused.
Jaime kept hold of her hand, tracing slow circles against her knuckles. His heart still pounded, but he matched the healer's silence.
They would wait. But the storm was coming.