Chapter 42
Forty - Two
Shaye
The screech of a hawk snaps me upward. My eyes flash open, half expecting to be trapped in a cage in Malvolio.
But I'm not in Malvolio. At least, I don't think I am.
The ceiling is a vibrant blue with gold and red trimming.
I push myself up on my elbows to scan the room.
The walls are the same blue but there are several arched windows where a dry desert breeze wafts in, causing the white drapes to dance.
This isn't Malvolio, but it's not Midori either.
I drag my aching body from underneath the white linen sheets and shuffle to one of the windows.
Rocky, brown mountains varying in size and cut surround the city made entirely of mudbricks and terracotta.
Most buildings have domes or vaulted roofs and blend in with the natural color of their surroundings.
Spying inside windows of nearby houses, there are vibrant colors inside.
Where am I?
A slight ache draws my attention to my head.
Throbbing pain forces me to retreat from the bright sunlight.
As I make my way back to the bed, I catch sight of myself in a gold framed, full-length mirror.
My white hair and grey eyes have returned, but my skin.
I press a hand to my neck where a dark burn bubbles and is attempting to heal.
I'm no longer wearing Bastian's shirt. I'm in beige flowy pants with a matching cropped blouse.
There's also an overlay I wear like a coat that stretches down to the floor.
Someone has changed me. The idea of someone else's eyes and hands roving over my naked body drags me back to Drogon's lair and what he did to me.
I'm flooded with shame and embarrassment.
I have to see for myself. With some difficulty from the pain and itchiness of the burns, I slip the top over my head and drop my pants to the floor. I stare wide-eyed at my body, stifling the tears welling.
Every inch of my skin is red, some spots more severe than others. As if just looking at them floods me with more pain, I'm suddenly feeling every single burn. Tiny pricks like ant bites erupt across my flesh and I want to shed this layer of skin like a snake.
With my magic back, I can begin to heal myself.
But when I healed Thrane's injuries in the Northern Crest he still had a scar.
I'm not sure I can rid myself of the markings completely, but I'll do my best. The effort to send healing power through my body is exhausting.
I'm not sure how long I've had my power restored, but it can't have been long.
I'll need to rest and recoup my strength to do this much healing.
There's a knock on my door and I have enough time to snatch the overlay and cover myself before the visitor enters. She pauses, her curious brown eyes meeting mine. Her gaze darts from the bed back to me.
"You're up." Her sweet voice catches me off guard. My suspicious gaze must be obvious because she then says, "Your white hair is beautiful. Are you a Frost Elf?"
I shake my head, tucking strands behind my non-pointed ears for her to get the picture. "I'm half," I say with a voice that doesn't sound like it belongs to me. It sounds like I've been screaming for hours and all I'm left with is a slight rasp.
"I would give you some privacy to redress, but I was here earlier drawing you a warm bath so you can freshen up. I also brought ointments to help with your burns."
I stare in the direction of the on-suite bathroom and sure enough, there's a terracotta tub with steam rising above the top. I slide my attention back to her, clutching the fabric tighter against my chest. "Who are you? Where am I?"
Realization sparks across her brown face.
"Forgive me! You must have so many questions.
" She sets her tray down and marches toward me, her olive overlay billowing behind her.
When I back up a step, she halts her approach.
Sadness flashes in her gaze before a warm friendliness takes its place.
"I'm Hani Naziri. You're in Vashbehtan."
"Naziri?" I sputter. "Do you know General Naziri?"
She tilts her head curiously. "I'm his youngest daughter."
Wonder and relief flood me. "So, he survived the Great War."
"You seem to know a lot about my father," she says cautiously. "My siblings said you called yourself Aurelia Basilius-Sol. Is that your true name?"
"Siblings?"
"Hagar and Helios. They're the ones who found you," she explains kindly.
I nod, vaguely remembering the sand wielders from the desert. Though I couldn't tell you what they looked like. "Yes, my name is Aurelia Basilius-Sol. I'm the daughter of Enver Sol and Sylvane Basilius."
She bobs her head. "Your blood opened the portal, didn't it?"
I lower my head, my eyes sweeping the wood floors. "It wasn't by choice."
"I never said it was," she says defensively, although not unkindly. "By the looks of it, you and your friend made it to us just in time. You must have suffered greatly."
I whip up to look at her. "Nyx? Is he all right?"
She smiles. "Yes, your friend is doing much better. He strengthens every hour. It seems he has some kind of healing power that is aiding his recovery." Her face falters. "Although, he will have scars from the torture he endured."
"It's all my fault," I mutter under my breath. "He never would have been harmed if it weren't for me."
"You mustn't do that to yourself," Hani closes the gap between us and gently wipes strands of wild white hair from my face. "Come. We will wash you and apply – "
"I want to see him," I blurt. "Where is he?"
"He is sleeping. I can take you to him once we've tended to you."
"But – "
"Please," she insists. "If we are to have any chance at keeping you from scarring, we need to take care of your skin."
She stretches her hand out for me to take but I don't move.
"Were you the one who dressed me?" I ask. I need to know.
She nods in confirmation. "Yes, Hagar and I changed you.
We did our best to wipe the sand from your burns before laying you in bed to rest." Her eyes dip to the floor.
"I hope you don't consider that an invasion of your privacy.
I'm sure you are adverse to strangers touching you.
I promise we did so with utmost care and respect. "
She's overcompensating. If she helped dress me, then she's seen every burn mark on my body.
Some in the shape of giant handprints. It doesn't take great intelligence to piece together what happened to me.
Though the idea of more hands on me sickens me, I know she and her sister did what was necessary to help me.
I offer her a smile, though it's not much. "Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality and kindness."
"It's the least we can do." She tries once more to extend her hand. "I'll help you wash your hair."
After a moment's hesitation, I accept her hand, allowing her to lead me to the bathroom. In Midori, I had ladies help me bathe so this is not a new concept, but after what I just went through, it will take me some time to accept.
"Do you want me to turn around so you can get in?" Hani asks as she twists her long brown hair up into a bun plopped on her head.
I tilt my chin downward and she immediately turns her back to me.
I'm grateful for her consideration and compassion.
I drop the overlay to the bath rug and slip a foot into the deliciously warm water.
Flashes of soaking in a bath after a long day of training strike me.
Atlas' face pops into my head and suddenly I'm frozen.
What if he sees me and is disgusted by me? What if he's angry another touched me?
"Is everything all right?" Hani's voice steadies my fraying nerves.
"No," I whimper, bottom lip trembling.
"Do you want me to help you?" she asks gently, though she has kept her back to me the entire time.
"I got it." I force myself to step my second foot inside the tub and slowly sink into the water. It comes up to my neck which gives me the coverage I was hoping for. "I'm in. You can turn around now."
Hani obeys, dragging a tiny stool to the edge of the tub where my head is and pulls my hair over the lip. "Is the water too warm?"
"It's perfect, thank you."
She pours a bit of oil in her palm. It smells like myrrh. Spreading it between her hands, she begins to rub her fingers through my hair and across my scalp.
"We believe myrrh has healing and protecting power," Hani explains, picking up a second glass bottle and pouring a different oil into her palm.
"Frankincense for peace." A third oil is added to her hand and subsequently massaged into my scalp.
"And juniper for its pleasant aroma. It's my personal favorite. I hope you like it."
"It smells lovely," I smile, though she can't see my face.
"You don't have to tell me what happened to you in the underworld," Hani catches me off guard. "But if it is any consolation, you are a survivor and should be proud. The monster that tried to kill you failed."
My stomach twists in knots. Whether I want to or not, tears flow down my cheeks and drip into the bathwater. Her hands still.
"I'm sorry if what I said – "
"No," I shake my head, swallowing hard. "You are very thoughtful. I appreciate you, Hani." My hand flies from beneath the water and captures one of hers in mine. I squeeze and she reciprocates. Silent encouragement. She's here with me. She sees me.
"I am engaged," I say. "What if he sees me and…"
When I trail off, Hani releases my hand. Her stool scrapes against the tile and she circles around to kneel where she and I can be face-to-face. She slides a gentle hand down my cheek, swiping my tears. "This man. He loves you?"
Atlas' love for me has never been a question. I nod, my bottom lip quivering.
"Scars will not change how he sees you. All he will care about is having you back in his arms." A seriousness washes over her face. "If a man leaves his woman over battle scars, he lacks honor. We do not weep unworthy men."