34. Familiar Faces #2
“Yes.” He cocked his head. “Please.”
He pushed off the wall and approached. ‘Just because you asked so . . . prettily.’
If he was attempting to aggravate me, he was succeeding.
Cassiel gripped where Archer had been holding near her foot. Lucinda and I continued sawing.
Then it was the muscle and fat, another easy section. As if sawing into a chicken breast. The hardest part was when we reached the bone. The saw caught, scraping to a standstill.
“I can do that quickly,” Cassiel offered again.
Sawing through the bone was an arduous effort.
“No, we have this,” Lucinda snapped. She was the only one who spoke to Cassiel without either fearing or worshiping him.
It was interesting to see who continued to see him as the King of Sycarious.
Sweat dripped down my back.
‘Stubborn.’
If I could speak in his mind, I would tell him he was worse. But this was not the time. We finally finished. Cassiel pulled the severed limb away, and Tabby pushed the thick cloth against the leaking wound where bone shone.
“We must staunch the wound,” Lucinda announced, placing the saw aside.
“Keep hold of it,” I said to Tabby, pressing against the cloth too. “Archer, are there any fireplaces? We need some sort of brand.”
His mouth remained pale, but he nodded. “I will return.” He took off running.
“There is a hearth in the kitchen,” Tabby explained.
Cassiel was swiping his palms across his shirt, leaving behind streaks of blue.
The towel we held tight to her severed leg began to seep. “It’s drenched,” Tabby said.
Archer ran back inside, holding a metal piece glowing red, Branwen at his heels, more composed. I took the handle and jerked my chin to the side. Tabby removed the towel, and I touched the side to press against the top of the wound, rolling it down over the flesh.
Skin seared as soon as the reddened metal touched her skin. She jolted on the table, her chest jerking and her body beginning to shake. Branwen pet her head and murmured to her. That seemed to calm Vera, and she settled. The smell of cooked flesh filled the chamber.
“I will not be able to eat in here again,” Tabby murmured.
I did not blame her. I would not either.
“Get a clean towel,” I ordered.
“Already have one,” Lucinda neared and pressed the towel to the wound.
Vera moaned, her head rolling from side to side. Branwen tucked her hair behind her ears, whispering encouragement.
“She will need something stronger for the pain.” One of Al’s concoctions would be useful right about now.
Lucinda pursed her lips. “We might be able to make a salve to numb the area. It will be a crude version of something Al would have perfected, but at least it could offer her some relief. Do you have mint?” Lucinda asked Tabby.
“We are running low on all our tonics and tinctures. We have yet to get provisions from the village nearest here.” Archer pinned Tabby with a glare. “You well know they have a market in the evening. I can go.”
“Two hands are better than one. I will go with you,” I announced.
“You are mad!”
“No, you will not.”
Archer yelled, Cassiel’s voice a second behind his.
Tabby and I shared a look and ignored them.
With Lucinda holding the towel to Vera’s sawed flesh, I went to the collection of blades and items on the table surface above her head. I grabbed a strip of string and came back to her leg. Lucinda lifted it as I wound the string over the towel to fasten it on Vera’s leg.
Vera moaned, still unconscious.
The door banged open against the wall. Damien came stumbling in. Gashes slashed across his arms, and he limped toward Vera.
“What have you done to her?” he croaked. Branwen moved back, and he took her spot, placing both hands on her face. His accusatory glare pinned Lucinda.
“We did what we had to,” I said, stepping forward. “It was my call.” Damien looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed and damp. He exhaled sharply and rested his cheek on her forehead. The care he had for her was unmistakable.
I turned and walked directly into Cassiel. “Saints!” I exclaimed, clasping my chest.
No wonder Damien had turned away and not continued to toss accusations.
I moved to Tabby’s side and clasped her hand. “When do we go to the village?”
“Amara,” Cassiel growled.
I ignored him. Despite Tabby’s reticence, she said, “Early, before dawnlight breaks, so we can be at the market when it commences.”
“Tabitha,” Archer snapped.
“It makes the most sense for us to go. No one will recognize us since we have yet to visit the closest village.”
Archer scoffed.
“I will remain at her side. You both prepare for your journey,” Lucinda interrupted.
“We are rather blood-stained,” Tabby said and met my eyes. “I will have a fresh gown sent to you, and some scarves.” She eyed my throat.
I reached to touch my neck. I had completely forgotten the Sigil’s presence.
“I must speak to you,” Cassiel announced, and his grip wound around my arm.
“Come fetch me when it is time to leave. I will be ready,” I said, staring directly at Tabby.
Cassiel had begun to drag me from the chamber.
Branwen watched me leave with a dirt-stained face.
She offered me a small, sad smile, then I was down the hall, taking the opposite forking path that led to the chamber we had been given.
Or what I could assume, since I couldn’t distinguish the difference between the doors and halls.
Cassiel had us inside the chamber.
“Release me,” I ordered, twisting my arm.
“Your disobedience cannot continue,” he snapped.
“You are hurting me.”
Cassiel suddenly released me, and I stumbled back, rubbing my arm. He slid his hand through his hair, ruffling the strands. His shoulders pumped up and down.
“You cannot stop me from helping.”
Cassiel moved so fast, I couldn’t help but flinch. No touch came. I peeked to find him staring at me, a thunderous look on his face.
“I have already assured you not to fear me,” he hissed. No, he had said he would not harm me.
I ignored his comment and lifted my chin. “I will be going to the village when dawnlight breaks. You are welcome to try chaining me to your bed.”
“If that is what you force me into,” he hissed, grasping my throat and nearing my face. I ground my molars hard.
“At the time, I had to think of survival. Now, I do not care risking death.” I lifted my chin. “So do not. Test. Me.”
We stood staring at each other, panting.
A snarl so violent it sent chills up my spine tore from his lips. He whirled around and stalked out of the chamber. I was left alone, chest heaving, and breaths sawing from my throat.
He backed away this time. I tucked the loose hair against my cheek behind my ear. Numbly, I went to the bath behind the division and turned the spout for the water. The door rattled with a knock. I shuffled over, the pinch in my hip flaring. I opened the door to Tabby.
“I brought you one of mine,” she said. “Simple, and it will allow us to blend.” She scrutinized my face. “Are you well?”
I nodded and smiled slightly, taking the dress from her arms.
“His Highness and Archer are speaking,” she said grimly. “Looks like we will have company nearby during our trip tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I huffed.
“Get some rest.” She squeezed my arm and turned, leaving briskly.