Chapter 25 – — Professor Bale, Lecture Notes #3
I reach back for the pack without looking and find Draven already holding it out to me. I pull out the kit Professor Bale gave us and start to work.
My hands shake twice while I’m cleaning the cut.
The first time is when I see how deep it goes, and the second is when I pick up the needle.
Both times I stop and breathe and start again.
Tomas keeps talking because I asked him to, about the goat and his sister and the dog two houses down that doesn’t like her.
“My dad is the best at splitting wood in the whole village.” He winces as I thread the needle through skin. “This wasn’t his fault.”
“I know it wasn’t.”
“He really is the best at it.”
“I believe you.” Though in a village with a little over a dozen people, it’s not hard to be the best at anything.
His father stands behind us, watching, not interfering.
Draven is against the far wall where he was when they came in.
Neither of them speaks while I work, and the quiet they’re giving me is the kind I didn’t know I needed until now.
I’m sure it’s taking all of Draven’s willpower to not chime in and tell me I’m doing something wrong or that he can do it better.
The stitches go in cleaner than I have any right to expect from hands that have been failing me for the last year.
Eight of them, small and even, the kind of work I used to do before my father died.
I cut the thread and tie the last knot off.
Tomas looks down at his arm and then back up at me with disbelief.
“That’s it?” He prods gently at the edge of the stitching.
“That’s it.” I swat his hand away from the wound. “Keep it clean, and don’t get it wet for a week. Your father will know what to watch for.”
His father nods. “What do we owe you?” He reaches into his coat.
“Nothing.”
“Miss —”
“Nothing.” I close up the kit. “Go home and feed him something warm.”
He hesitates in the doorway with his hand on his son’s shoulder, and I can see him working up to saying something.
“The lake was louder today.” He looks down at the floor instead of at me. “You’ll want to know that. It was louder than it’s been in weeks.”
Draven crosses his arms over his chest against the wall.
“Louder how?” I stand up, the kit still in my hands.
“Like something’s awake in it. I don’t know how else to say it. It was louder.”
He takes his son’s good hand, and they leave. I put the kit back in the pack and look down at my hands. I’ve been bandaging patients in the wards for weeks but haven’t done any stitches. I just did stitches, and my hands were steady.
“Rose.”
I don’t look up.
“Rose.”
“I’m fine, Alucard.”
“I didn’t ask if you were fine.”
I look up at him. He’s still against the wall with his arms folded, watching me with an expression I can’t read from across the room.
“You did well.”
“I did basic stitches.” I cross to the table and sit back down in front of my half-eaten slice of bread. “Besides, I wasn’t trying to impress you and am certainly not looking for your approval.” I take another bite of the crusty bread. Draven paces and keeps glancing out the window.
“What do you think he meant about the lake?” I ask.
“From the map, it looks like the fissure runs into the lake. Could be a sign of activity.” Draven’s tracing a finger along one of the maps spread across the stone table. “It’s almost sundown. You should get some rest.”
“And what about you?” I set the chunk of bread down I’ve been pulling pieces off of to try and fill my belly, even though it tastes stale.
“I’m going to check our surroundings and get a look at the fissure.”
I’m stumbling out of my chair. “The seamkeeper said we should wait until tomorrow.”
“I don’t give a damn what he said.” He pulls his cloak off the back of the chair.
“I’m coming with you.” I clip my own cloak back around me and pull our pack on over my shoulders. You never know when we might need it.
“You’re going to bed.” He crosses to me, lifts the pack off my shoulders, then tips his head toward the side chamber door. The one I haven’t looked in yet, the one I’m afraid to see the state of in this place.
“I’m not a godsdamn child, and this is my grade too. If you go, I go.”
“Look around, Freckles. No one is grading us. The grade is making it back alive.”
I cross my arms and don’t move.
He takes in a long slow breath and sets the pack down.
“Fine.”
I practically squeal and skip past him to the door.
“Well, hurry up.” I pull it open and wave an arm toward the cold. He shakes his head once and steps out into the evening air.
The path to the lake runs narrow through the woods, and his wolf leads the way.
We keep a fast pace. The goat lady’s warning was enough to make me not want to be out here after dark, and I think Draven feels the same from the way he steals ahead of me every few steps and then waits, like he’s checking that I’m still behind him.
I squint through the trees. I’ve always hated this time of day, when the sun has just set and it isn’t dark yet but everything has gone soft at the edges.
Then the seam finds me.