“No.” One word, full of icy resolve.
No? My heart deflates. “I…I know you can’t go into Eden,” I pause, the writhing of my stomach making it difficult to form complete sentences. “But maybe one of the soldiers…at the prison,” I chime. “There has to be someone that will make the journey back.”
“No, no, nonono.” He shakes his head vigorously and the breath in my chest lodges.
“Please?”
“You’re not writing fucking goodbye letters,” he snaps.
Angry, he’sangry.
I don’t understand it. I can’t make sense of it. He’s nearly rid of me.
Hot tears slide down my cheeks. “Well, you could at least lie about it.”
“Don’t do that,” he snides, not even bothering to hide his disdain. He’s back at my side in two strides. I can’t bring myself to look at him. He places a hand under my jaw, forcing me to face him and he swipes away tears with the back of his hand like they’re a nuisance. “You’re not writing goodbye letters because you’re not going to die.”
I scrutinize his face for insight and find only icy resolve. “I…heard him. Don’t lie to me about it,” I say weakly.Please don’t lie to me.
He scoffs with a sneer. “He’s an idiot.”
My brow knits. I open my mouth to question him further but his eyes have gone distant, distracted. “I have to go,” he murmurs. “I…I’m going to go get Vera,” he says. I shift to my side, watching him fly around the room like a madman, collecting this and that. “Be right back,” he calls over his shoulder.
I don’t have the mental fortitude to puzzle over it. Not even this news of my imminent death is enough to keep my eyes from drifting shut. I’m stirred awake by a gentle tapping against my face.
“I’m sorry, but I need to heal you before I go,” he says, face hovering close.
“You’re leaving? Wait,” I say, struggling to tug myself up. “You won’t let me turn into one of those, will you—please—I’d rather—I don’t want to be—“
“You won’t,” he says, cutting me off. “I will be back. But I need to hurry, so lie back,” he says gently nudging my shoulder flat to the bed. His eyes flit back and forth between my stomach and my face. “Apologies but it's easiest to do as close to the affected area as possible.” He pulls my dress up, using the blanket at the same time to cover me. Once my stomach is bared, he places a warm palm across it. “This is probably going to hurt.”
“I thought you weren’t good at healing?”
“I’m…pretty good, actually.”
I’m skeptical, especially with the way his voice shoots up several octaves, but I take a deep breath and nod. Unlike the healer's magic, Sitri’s magic is warm, like seeping hot water as it penetrates my skin. Then it’s pulsing, ravaging the wounds of my stomach like the healer did, exceptsomuch worse. It doesn’t just touch whatever damage I’ve accrued, it shifts it, forces it closed. My body jolts against my will, but his hand keeps me planted there.
This time, a groan escapes me. It’s over as soon as it’s begun, and I jerk up, spewing more blood all over my lap. He waves it away as I’m still coughing. “Sorry,” I gasp out.
“Don’t be.” He draws a vial from his nightstand, and I narrow my eyes. “I know you don’t want to take this. I know you’re going to throw it up, but even if you only absorb a drop—it’s better than none.”
I loose another breath and nod my agreement based solely on his intensity.
“This one is for blood loss.” I take it in a trembling hand. The thought of swallowing anything is physically repulsive.
“You can do this,” he says as he notices my hesitancy.
I take several breaths before tipping the vial and forcing the bitter liquid down my throat. It feels wrong, burning into the hollow of my stomach.
“This one is for hydration.” He hands the vial off to me and it’s even harder to down than the first. I gag. “Hold it,” he demands. “Hold it for as long as you can.”
I wrap my arms around my abdomen as if that will aid me in holding it in. I slump back into the bed, exhaustion thick. “Okay, good,” he says, blowing out a breath. He turns around, and I look up to see Vera lurking in the corner, eyes wide. He strides toward her and places his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll stay?”
“I’ll have to check on the kitchens every so often, but I’ll come right back, Sitri, I swear.”
“Thank you.” He pulls her into a tight embrace and I look away as Vera’s face reddens. “You can’t do any healing, can you, Vera?”
Vera grimaces. “No, sorry, Sitri. I don’t have that kind of power.”
