Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The inn smelled like damp wood and old lettuce.
But they were lucky that it had only been a few minutes’ ride away from where Edith had fallen off her horse.
Even luckier that they had a room available.
Jay had carried Edith’s still-unconscious form up the steep wooden stairs as Thomasin paid for the room with the silver she’d taken off the highwaymen.
Now, she sat in a rickety chair that made her lower back hurt and watched Edith closely.
The slow rise and fall of her chest. Her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow.
It had been almost two hours, and she still hadn’t woken.
Thomasin had managed to barter with the innkeeper for some clean bandages.
The snugly wrapped straps of white linen were a stark contrast against the faded beige of the bedsheets.
Beneath the bandages was the thick paste that Jay had applied in an even layer over the burned and blistered skin where the open wound had once been.
Edith’s muffled screams and whimpering cries echoed in her head.
Thomasin rested her elbows on her knees and let her head fall into her hands, roughly dragging them through her hair.
Thomasin had always believed that the worst that could happen usually did end up happening.
But for some reason, she couldn’t fathom the idea that Edith might die.
Edith, who lived in a little fantasy world where she could go on quests and find magic swords.
Thomasin envied her belief, and she didn’t want to be proven right that only terrible things happened.
She wanted Edith to live and prove to her that magic might be real.
God, it was stupid of her to think such things.
Around Edith, she found she couldn’t help it. Edith was infectious. No pun intended.
The cauterization should’ve burned away the infection.
Thomasin thought of the jagged patch of scar tissue right above her hip bone.
That had been a much deeper wound, and a far worse infection.
But she was still standing. Marshall had made her do it herself.
He had held the knife in the fire, handed it to her, and said that this was the only way she’d learn something.
Her hands were slick with her own blood, and she had barely been able to keep hold of the hilt.
His assessing eyes had been on her, so she knew she couldn’t hesitate.
She didn’t know how she had managed to keep the blade against her skin, or how she had kept from blacking out, but she had done it, and she had lived.
She could only hope the infection hadn’t taken to Edith’s blood yet.
Jay was good with plants, and he had assured her the salve would help treat any lingering infection.
But if the sickness was already inside her, there would be nothing they could do to save her.
Thomasin inhaled, forcing air into her lungs.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice croaked.
Thomasin jerked upright. Edith’s pale blue eyes were open, and her lips were tilted into a frown.
“Am I—am I okay?” she sputtered. The legs of the chair squealed against the wood floor as she scooted closer to the bed. “How do you feel?”
Edith swallowed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
Thomasin scrambled to pour her a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.
She pressed the glass into Edith’s good hand, their fingers brushing, then slid her arm very gently beneath her shoulders, watching for the slightest wince of pain.
She helped Edith sit up against the headboard, ready to catch her if she passed out again.
The color remained in her cheeks as she brought the glass to her lips and took a small drink.
“So?” Thomasin prodded.
Edith set the cup on the nightstand, her movements tense. Her injured shoulder gave an experimental shrug, and she grimaced, a hiss slipping through her gritted teeth. “It hurts, but not nearly as bad as it did,” she said, attempting to turn the grimace into a smile.
“Are you sure? Do you feel dizzy? Sick?”
“Honestly, no. I feel a lot clearer.”
Thomasin nodded to herself, then met Edith’s eyes. “Well that’s good to hear, because now I can murder you myself.”
The smile slipped from Edith’s features. “Excuse me?”
Thomasin smiled, rocking forward in the chair and resting her fists on the bed so that their faces were only a foot apart.
“You heard me. I am going to throttle you until you get it into your perfect, ridiculous little head that not telling me about your ragingly infected wound was quite possibly the stupidest thing that any living being has ever done.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Edith scoffed.
“You were halfway to death’s doorstep!” Thomasin snapped.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?”
Thomasin shoved away from the bed, laughing grimly as she began to pace back and forth across the length of the room.
“You haven’t even begun to see dramatic.
” She pointed an accusatory finger at Edith.
“You know what’s dramatic? Letting yourself die from an infection because you just have to keep it to yourself.
And for what? Why, Edith? Why on earth would you hide something like that? ”
Edith opened her mouth to respond, but Thomasin wasn’t done. She had held in this tirade for far too long, and the rage she felt at Edith’s complete lack of care about her own well-being was bursting from her.
“You know what a normal person would do once they noticed their wound was infected? They would say, ‘Hey guys, my stitches are looking a little gnarly, mind giving me a hand?’ But you, Edith, oh, you didn’t do that, did you?
You decided it made sense to wait until your fever was so bad you couldn’t even stay on your feet!
And it’s not like that was even a choice you made!
That was just your body giving up on you, because it knew your brain was too goddamn messed up to ever do something sensible! ”
Edith shrunk against the headboard as Thomasin came to a stop at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips, brows pressed into a flat, angry line.
“I’m sorry,” Edith said, twisting her lips to one side. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Thomasin threw up her hands. “What did you think would happen? That it would just heal on its own? Or that you’d die, and I’d just leave your body on the side of the road and say, ‘Oh well, it was fun while it lasted!’ ”
“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t really let myself think too much about it. I just didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bother me?” Thomasin reared back in confusion. “You were actively dying of an infection, and you were worried about how it would affect me?”
Edith shrugged defensively. “I just figured that if I caused problems, I’d be more trouble than I was worth, and then you’d leave.”
Thomasin wondered what in the hell had happened for Edith to get the idea in her head that someone would leave her the second she needed something, even if it was through no fault of her own.
“Edith, you took that arrow for me. Nothing you could have done would have bothered me. Except not telling me!”
“You really care that much?”
Thomasin’s heart sank at the bewildered expression on Edith’s face. “You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you hurt, and I certainly don’t want to see you die.”
A soft smile tipped up the corners of Edith’s mouth. “You’re my friend too.”
The anger inside Thomasin’s stomach deflated, and her shoulders relaxed. She came around to sit on the side of the bed. She took Edith’s hand between her own. “Then promise me that if anything life-threatening happens to you, you’ll let me help.”
The tips of Edith’s finger curled around Thomasin’s hand. Her index finger stroked the side of Thomasin’s thumb. Thomasin pretended the simple touch didn’t send tingles down her spine.
“I promise,” Edith said. “And thank you for taking such good care of me.”
“Any time, you ridiculous girl.”
Edith rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. A moment later, her nose wrinkled, and the smile tightened into a grimace. “Why does it smell like lettuce in here?”
“There’s just no pleasing you,” Thomasin joked.
“I didn’t say it was bad! It’s certainly better than burning flesh.” Edith’s eyes widened as she said it.
“I agree wholeheartedly.” Thomasin rounded the bed and flopped down next to Edith. “Whoops, my bad,” she added when Edith winced, the movement jostling her.
Edith waved away the apology and settled back into the pillow. “We’re still on the quest, right?”
“Of course we are.”
“So, when are we leaving? We have a map to follow.” Her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Thomasin was all too happy to see the color return to her previously deathly pale skin.
“When you’re not on the brink of death anymore.”
Edith dramatically checked her own pulse. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
Thomasin shuffled her shoulders down the headboard until she was lying flat atop the covers. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. “We’ll leave when I’m not on the brink of death.”
She felt Edith’s hand on her shoulder and ignored her as Edith shook her arm impatiently. “You weren’t even a little injured!”
“Yes, I was.”
The touch disappeared immediately. Thomasin cracked open an eye to see Edith staring down at her, stricken. “You’re hurt? Was it the highwaymen?”
“No, it was a far more cunning enemy.”
Edith’s brow dropped into a flat, scrunched-up line. “What happened? What did I miss?”
Thomasin propped herself up on an elbow and leaned over to Edith’s side of the bed. She pinned her with a severe gaze. “See, this friend of mine was so stupidly reckless with her own life, I nearly had a heart attack from worrying about her.”
Edith’s shoulders dropped, and Thomasin couldn’t hold her solemn expression anymore. Her laughter broke past the dam, and she plopped down on her back.
“You ass,” Edith said, but Thomasin could hear the smile in her voice.
“I’ve never heard you swear before.”