The ropes around my wrists had rubbed my skin raw. I shifted against the pile of blankets, trying to find a position that didn't feel like my bones were being ground into dust.

Across from me, Mattias sat slumped on a stool, his shirt clinging wet with blood. He was pale under the dim lamplight, his lips pressed into a thin line of determination. For all his big speeches about prophecy and destiny, he looked like one strong breeze could knock him out cold.

"You're going to bleed to death ...