Mira glances between the two of us, the tension in the air making her shoulders bunch and her lips worry. "I…should probably try to find some herbs for his wound. The bleeding is slowing, but there could be infection if not treated properly."
Rowland beats me to denying her. "It's unsafe out there alone, and we don't have enough time to scavenge for medicinal plants. We stay here only as long as we have to. We rest. We form a plan. We leave."
"What about me?" Lewis says, anger boiling up and turning his neck fiery red. Nervously, he glances at me, trying to make sure not to incur my wrath again. "What about my leg?"
"You'll have to make do," Rowland tells him. "When we're somewhere safe, we'll find you the help you need."
"Somewhere safe?" All signs of restraint leave Lewis now. "And where’s that? I haven't been safe my entire life. I'll lose my fucking leg if it gets infected. And then what? You just gonna hack it off?"
"That's not—"
"Drag me around like a maimed donkey that should've been put out of everyone's misery?You can get fucked if you think I'm letting that happen."
Everyone's quiet, and frankly, I have no argument.
Even if we attempt to go back to Rowland's community, it'll take us days to walk there. I'm no healer by practice, but I imagine Lewis' leg can't afford that kind of journey, and we can't afford to be dragging him around like dead weight anyway.
Our only options are to leave him or to treat him.
When I start to convince myself that leaving him might be best for everyone, my chest tightens. Only monsters would abandon the living to their deaths. And a monster is what I've been for most of the past decade.
I can no longer afford to lose touch with my humanity. Not like them.
ButI also don't like the thought of Mira wandering out there alone on a fool's errand for an herb that might not even grow here. The Blight tampered with the forest. It changed the flora that grew here ever since its inception. The trees, the vines, the flowers, even some of the wild animals that dwell in the Shadowthorn can only thrive in these woods. Unless she's specialized in Shadowthorn medicinal plants like the Crusaders had been, I doubt she'll be able to find what she needs to heal him.
Suddenly, a new idea comes to mind.
Shoving Sable into Rowland's chest, my fingers float up to graze the side of my neck where the bite marks are gone.
"Maybe you don't need herbs to heal him. Maybe...maybe I can do it with my blood."
Rowland blinks. "What?"
"The fuck you will!" Lewis growls, grimacing as he tries to put some distance between us, but he only manages to drag the back of the wound through rogue shards of stained glass. There's almost no escaping it.
"What are you saying?” There's no accusation in Mira’s tone. No judgment. Her only aim in this is to aid a man who doesn't even deserve her generosity. "This is about that noctis, isn't it? The one who bit you. There was no bite mark after. It was like…like it never happened."
Suddenly reminded of the gaping wound that should be etched into the side of my neck, Rowland takes my head into his hand and tilts it back, examining the place where the wound should be. Blood has dried on the collar of my blouse, but there is no wound. Not even a scar of one, if my fingers are to be any sort of judge on the matter.
"That's impossible," he says, releasing me, maybe a little too firmly. "I saw him bite you. I saw him drinking your blood—"
Lewis' concern increases, his temper skipping along with it. "You were bitten? By one of them?" He blinks, staring at all of us before exclaiming, "Then let me repeat myself: the fuck you will. You keep your vile blood away from me. I don't want to—Oh shit!" His eyes bulge with understanding. And something else. Something that makes me feel as if I will soon be running from a mob with pitchforks. "You'll be one of them soon. You'll be a ghoul. You guys! We have to kill her. Before it's too late!"
"No one's killing anyone," Rowland warns, voice low and guttural.
"Shewill if we don't do something about her first! She’ll kill us all and then we’ll all turn into ghouls!"
Rowland jumps between us, acting like an impenetrable wall. "I said, you're not touching her. Don't make me remind you again."
"Stop it," I say, shoving him aside. "Both of you. I don't think we have anything to worry about. I feel fine. I don't exactly understand what happened or why, but I think I might be...immune."
The room goes silent.
Lewis eyes me warily. "Bullshit. You’re lying."
Rowland agrees."He's right. I would've learned about it by now."
This strikes me as odd, but then I remember the resources Rowland has at his disposal. For all I know, this has been part of his research of the noctis, testing their toxins against human blood, searching for a cure or something close to it.
