10. Sardines! Isn’t a Curse Word #4
“No, I’m serious.” Isabel reaches out and squeezes Sapphira’s hand. “I’m sorry for how your family treated you. They’re . . . they’re . . .” she says, chest burning as she thinks about the way Sapphira was mistreated.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Sapphira laughs, wiping at her eyes. “Your face is ballooning, Isabel.”
“They’re idiots!” Isabel shouts, startling herself as the words echo back. She clamps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “I’ve never said that before,” she whispers, muffled through her fingers.
Now Sapphira falls back, laughing. Isabel watches her fall apart, her shame melting away at the sight of Sapphira’s joy. “It’s not funny,” she grumbles, pouting.
Sapphira sits up and lays a heavy hand on Isabel’s shoulder, which makes the chimera’s stomach flip. “I’m proud of you. You were willing to call someone an idiot to protect my honor.”
Isabel meets Sapphira’s eyes, making sure the woman knows she’s absolutely serious. “Of course,” she says. “Of course.”
“Then tell me something,” Sapphira says.
“Something?”
“How did you injure your leg?”
Isabel’s breath catches. She looks at her hands, her fingers suddenly very interesting as she twists them nervously around each other. “Do you know why I don’t like showing off my magic?”
Sapphira’s brows crease. “What does that—”
“Just wait.” Isabel takes a deep breath. She rubs her sore thigh, and Sapphira’s gaze follows. The pressure of that stare is like fire licking up her skin.
“When I was young, before my mother died, we were attacked.”
Sapphira gasps, and Isabel struggles to push on. Every time she thinks about it, it’s like she’s right there, back in that moment. Like when you’re drowning and you struggle for breath. Every time you think you’ve caught it, you’re under the water again, drowning. Choking.
“We were attacked by someone who hated what we are. I know you think that’s impossible because of all of the amazing things about this land.
But it isn’t perfect, and the people aren’t either.
We were visiting Nsokena, and this man had drunk too much firewater.
A festival was going on, and the man saw us.
My mother used her magic. I don’t remember what for.
I think it was to keep my kite up in the air .
. . Yes, yes. I think that’s what it was. ”
The memories come flooding back, the day playing on a loop.
She’d begged her mother for a beautiful kite, which was filled with so many colors and shapes.
It danced when it flew. Her arm had gotten tired, and her mother offered to fly it for her.
She moved the kite with her mind, made it spin and whirl.
Isabel had been so happy, squealing like a pig. Now, the memory is one of pain.
“The man saw her using her magic to move my kite,” she continues.
“And instead of seeing something beautiful, he saw evil. He attacked her. Came at her with a . . . Was it a sword?” She searched her memory, the details growing hazy at the edges.
The images are so vivid but also confusing.
She looks up at Sapphira, who has a horrified expression.
“A sword?” Sapphira asks. “Why would he have a sword? Was he a knight or something?”
Isabel’s cheeks pinken. “I don’t know. But he caught my mother with it.
Right on her side.” She touches her own hip where her mother’s scar had been.
Isabel used to run her fingers over it as her mother held her in her arms, and Isabel would kiss the skin when she got so scared at night, afraid that she’d wake up and not find her mother there.
“Anyway, my mother tried to push me out of the way, but I was stubborn and an idiot. I ran at the man, trying to get him away from her. He pushed me away like I was a fly. And then he stomped on my leg, and it was as if the entire world crashed down on me. I was screaming like I had been speared through the heart. The commotion drew a crowd, and then my mother’s draek?n, Toln, got to us. The man fled.”
Sapphira’s eyes drop back down to Isabel’s leg. “Is that how you got your injury? But why haven’t you healed it already? I’ve seen what you can do. You can heal anything.”
Isabel flushes again, looking away. “My healing ability hadn’t awakened yet, and my mother wasn’t a healer.
By the time I got the ability, it was too late.
The damage had already set in. I can heal new wounds, sickness, and even pinpoint a patient’s injury.
But old wounds, ones that have written themselves into the mind and body—that I cannot help.
All I can do is prevent further damage, further weakening of the limb. ”
It’s quiet for a moment, the truth of both their lives lingering before them.
Then Sapphira takes Isabel’s hand and squeezes her fingers.
Isabel gives her a brilliant smile, hiding the pain that lingers behind it.
Her mother protected her all of those years ago, and Isabel will always protect those she loves too.
There’s no doubt in her mind that she will always protect Sapphira. Until she leaves.
Until she leaves . . . Isabel thinks sadly.
She falls asleep with a painful knot in her stomach and tears stinging her eyes.