He was lying on a thick bed of moss in relative darkness. It was comfortable enough. So he stayed still and waited for Kadaki. At some point, he fell asleep.
He awoke again as soft footsteps approached. He looked up to see Kadaki, a dozen bits of medical supplies hovering in the air around her. She set down a clean sheet beside him and set the supplies down on it.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t come any sooner,” she said. Her face was pale, and her eyes were heavy-lidded. She peered at him closely, her expression worried in a way that warmed his heart.
He’d watched her shift herself in and out of the cavern far too many times in the past hour, refilling her well of magic from the obelisk between each trip. She was pushing herself too hard, which was exactly what had started her problems with magic five years ago. A mortal body could only take so much. She had to stop and rest.
He tried to tell her that. He opened his mouth, straining. A sharp pain flared deep in his throat.
“Don’t,” she said sternly. “Don’t try to speak until I give you permission. You’ll make it worse. If you want the best chance at recovering your voice, you must give it time to heal.”
She implied it might not heal at all. He disguised his fear with a small, annoyed breath, and picked up the notebook.Bossy,he wrote.
Kadaki smirked.
I don’t see many rebels.
“Most of them ran off. I told the rest that their crimes would be forgiven if they gave up now, and most of them agreed.” She uncorked an unlabeled bottle and sniffed it. “Something about this feels familiar, doesn’t it?”
Neiryn rolled his eyes, knowing exactly who she was talking about.
“Maybe you can ask Aruna for tips on shorthand writing.”
As if he would tell me.
“He would if you asked nicely. Here, drink this.”
He let her pour it into his mouth, and he grimaced as his throat worked to swallow. The taste was unfamiliar. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a panacea, but he didn’t feel like picking up the notebook again to ask about it.
“To help you regain blood,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. She fed him another one. “And this is for nausea.”
She picked out another bottle and doused his neck in something that felt oddly cold, then picked up a needle and thread. He braced himself, but the thing she’d poured on him seemed to have numbed him. The needle pinched as it went in, but wasn’t as painful as he’d expected.
He closed his eyes as she worked her way across his throat.
“Are you all right?” she asked quietly after a while. He’d not moved in several minutes.
He smiled in response, because it hurt less than nodding.
She gave him an uncertain look, like she didn’t believe him. She quickly finished, cutting off the end of the thread with a small blade, and leaned back to examine her work. Neiryn picked up the notebook again.
This is like when we first met,he wrote.
She scoffed, amused. “It’s not like that at all.”
He just smiled.
“That’s a pleasant memory for you?” she asked, furrowing her brow.
He smiled a little wider.
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Tell me.”
He pointed to his damaged throat, then shrugged helplessly.
