Chapter 8
Sage
Down in the great hall, I joined the line of guardsmen waiting their turn to get breakfast. The man in front of me was a human who was big and bulky like Payne, and the man who stepped up behind me was a fae with a similar build.
I squared my shoulders and resisted the urge to shrink in on myself. Even after a rotation of practicing and learning that I wouldn’t be punished for looking a man in the eyes or looking anything other than meek and submissive, the urge was still there.
Father, I hated that I felt that way.
But I couldn’t deny years of training or the fact that I couldn’t trust any of these men.
They might push or trip me when I wasn’t looking or worse.
They’d already proven they didn’t think Lord Rider’s punishment of stable duty was enough for having gone through the fae ring after dark, and with a new rotation starting tomorrow, I feared they wouldn’t think whatever new assignment I’d been given would be enough.
I turned my head slightly so I could look at the man behind me from the corner of my eye. He wasn’t looking at me and kept his gaze above my head even when the line shifted forward.
In the kitchen, the men ensuring the platters on the counter were filled with food glanced at me then looked away.
I grabbed two slices of bread, some meat, and made a sandwich, then took an orange from the fruit bowl at the end and hurried out of the kitchen and back out of the great hall.
No point in sticking around and sitting among men who didn’t like me.
I returned to my room to eat then sat on my bed trying to figure out what to do.
Given how sore I was, I should probably move around to stop my muscles from tightening up even more. Yesterday, I’d walked the perimeter of the training ground and no one had bothered me. The library had also been pretty private, with only Tyon there trying to teach himself how to read.
Thinking of Tyon and the library reminded me that I’d originally gone there to look for information about all the things I didn’t know enough about like the fae and their culture as well as my magic and even the shadow creatures and the Gray.
I also wanted to check in on Kit, Payne, Lewin, and even Grefin to see how they were doing, although I wasn’t sure if Flint would allow me into the infirmary or if they would be up for talking with me.
Only one way to find out: go to the infirmary.
Also, if I waited until after my mandatory talk with Lord Quill about my magic then maybe he’d direct me toward books in the library that would help me.
A shiver swept through me at the thought of Lord Quill.
I didn’t know how I felt about him. A part of me ached to be near him, to feel his kindness and concern, something I hadn’t felt since my mother died.
But another part didn’t trust that kindness and knew it could vanish the moment Lord Rider gave an order.
But it was still smarter to see if Lord Quill could suggest some books than wandering the library hoping I’d find something useful. Which meant visiting Kit and the others first.
With that decided, I headed to the infirmary.
After a quick walk to the other wing of the Black Tower, I stopped outside the infirmary door and raised my hand to knock, then hesitated.
Should I just walk in? Last night I’d crashed through these doors in a panic, but I’d been trying to save Payne’s life.
The memory of barging in made my stomach clench. I hadn’t gotten into trouble for it, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t if I did it again. I rapped my knuckles against the heavy wood and waited.
No answer.
I knocked again, harder this time, and pressed my ear to the door. Nothing but silence. Maybe Flint was with one of his patients in the patient rooms at the back and couldn’t hear me.
After another moment of waiting, I cracked the door open just wide enough to peek through.
The main room was empty, the examination tables clean, and morning light streamed through the high windows and across the pale stone floor.
There were no signs of blood or chaos or pain like there’d been a few hours ago.
Footsteps echoed from the hall at the back of the large room, and I pushed the door open wider just as Flint emerged, wiping his hands on a clean towel.
“Here to see Kit and his team?” he asked with a smile. He wore his usual black pants and pale blue doublet, and I realized the doublet was the same color as Zinnia’s robes. Was blue the color for fae healers?
“Yes,” I said, relieved that the healer didn’t seem angry at me like all the other guardsmen.
Of course, I did save Payne’s life, so hopefully that counted for something. Maybe if word got out about that—
I cut that thought off. I didn’t want the entire Black Guard to know I could see the future. That would just make people more interested in me and go against everything I was striving for.
“Kit and Lewin are in the first two rooms,” Flint said. “Both asleep or unaware from the large dose of pain draught I gave them. Payne’s in Kit’s room if you want someone to talk to.”
I nodded and headed down the hall that led to the private recovery rooms. The door to the first room stood open and I glanced in.
Lewin lay on the bed covered up to his waist with a simple sheet, his bare chest wrapped in thick linen strips.
His complexion was pale, but his expression was calm and peaceful, and it didn’t look like he was in any pain.
The room was similar, if a little bigger, than my room in the barracks, with a narrow bed against one wall.
Instead of a trunk at the foot of the bed, there was a chair, and beside the head of the bed was a low, long bedside table, big enough to hold a tray of medical supplies.
Against the wall opposite the bed stood a door, perhaps to a closet?
Lewin wasn’t conscious, so I moved to the next door which was also open.
Inside the room was an identical mirror image to Lewin’s.
Kit lay motionless on the bed, his breathing deep and even.
His sheet had been pulled up to mid-chest, but I could still see the top half of the thick linens wrapped around his torso as well.
Beside him, Payne sat hunched forward in a chair that had been pulled close, holding Kit’s hand — the hand that hadn’t been severed — in both of his. Kit’s hand almost looked delicate wrapped in Payne’s large grip, which meant mine would look child-like in comparison.
Kit’s other hand was hidden by the sheet, and for a moment I feared that he’d lost it. Everything had happened so fast last night and then I’d had to deal with Sir West, Lords Quill and Rider and Talon in the Garden, so my memory was fuzzy. But I was sure Flint had reattached it with his magic.
Of course, if his magic was powerful enough to reattach a hand, why were Kit and Lewin still being given medicine for their pain?
Payne glanced up at the sound of my footsteps and offered me a tired smile. His complexion was still a little pale, and the man looked haggard with dark circles under his striking amethyst eyes. He’d probably stayed up all night at Kit’s side, worrying.
“Hey,” Payne murmured, his voice low and gruff so he didn’t wake Kit.
“Have you slept?” I asked, keeping my voice soft as well.
“A little. I’m the next room down.” Payne jerked his chin toward the next room in the opposite direction of Lewin’s. “I just can’t stop worrying.”
“But Flint healed him, right?”
“As much as he’s allowed,” Payne replied. “Healing magic isn’t rare, but it isn’t common, either. There are only three healers working for the Black Guard and there’s only ever one on duty at any given time. Here—”
Payne carefully shifted over to the bed, sitting by Kit’s legs, and motioned to the now empty chair.
“Thanks.” I sat and studied Kit’s face. Like all fae — well all fae except Sir West and maybe Ash if you couldn’t look past his scars — he was beautiful with refined features and long thick eyelashes that any woman would kill for.
And yet I didn’t feel an attraction to him like I felt with Talon, Lord Quill, Ash, or hell, even Lord Rider.
“Because there’s only ever one healer on duty,” Payne said, “none of the healers are allowed to do more than the bare minimum to save a life or prevent permanent disability if possible.”
Which would explain why many of the older guardsmen had scars. I’d figured they’d been injured in the field and couldn’t get to a fae healer in time, but I guess that wasn’t the case.
“They have to ration their magic in case more injured guardsmen come in before they can restore their power. So Flint saved Kit’s hand, for which I’m grateful,” Payne said. “But bone is harder to heal than flesh and muscle, so it’s still broken.”
“And everything else—” I gestured to the linen wrapped around Kit’s chest. “It’s been treated without magic or with just enough magic that non-magical treatments will suffice?”
“Exactly,” Flint said from the doorway.
The healer held a tray with a bowl of porridge, two slices of bread, and a hank of green grapes.
He set the tray on the bedside table, drawing my attention to what I’d thought was a closet door.
From my position in the room, I could now see that it was actually a bathing room like the one in Kit’s elite team’s suite.
“Are you going to wake him?” I asked.
“I could mitigate the effects of the wistellel with my magic, but it’s better if he keeps sleeping. No—” Flint gave Payne a hard look. “The food is for this one. If he isn’t going to sleep, he needs to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You only think that because you’re worried about your bonded,” Flint said, his expression softening. “But he’d want you to keep your strength up. Sawyer might have saved you by giving you the antivenom, but that only helps your body fight off the poison. It’s still inside you, making you weak.”
I stood, offering Payne the chair back so it would be easier for him to eat at the table, but he waved me down.
“I can eat off my lap.”
Flint handed Payne the tray and the large fae shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
“There you go,” Flint said as if Payne were a stubborn child. “And don’t worry, I won’t force you up to your suite tomorrow, like I should. As long as I have a free bed, you can stay down here.”
Payne ate another spoonful of porridge and Flint left.
With a sigh, Payne’s attention drifted back to Kit, the spoon forgotten in his fingers. “I want to thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here arguing with Flint.”
I shifted in the chair, uncomfortable with his tone and the reminder that while I’d saved him, I’d also made myself way more interesting than I wanted to be.
“Your shoulders are too small for the weight they’re going to carry,” he added.
I frowned and he glanced at me.
“The sight is a hard gift, even for a fae.” His gaze dipped to his spoon as if he just realized he was still holding it, and he scooped up another mouthful of porridge.
“When we’re young, all fae are taught about the various types of magic that might be in our spark.
The sight was one of the magics that terrified me. ”
I shuddered at his words. If a fae as strong and confident as Payne was afraid of my magic, maybe I should be too.
Sure, I’d been afraid of what I’d seen, of Sawyer’s death and then my own. But the fact that I possessed the power hadn’t scared me. Of course, when it had started, it hadn’t been visions. It had just been bad feelings.
Now I was seeing things and my premonitions were coming more frequently.
Did that mean at some point I’d be lost within my visions, unaware of the reality around me like Flint said?
I couldn’t let that happen… not until I knew Sawyer was safe.
After that, maybe it would be best if my mind wasn’t with my body.
Mikel, Durand, and the others had proven I wasn’t even safe in the Gray as a man.
I definitely wouldn’t be safe as a woman.
And even if I left the Black Tower unscathed, I’d be punished by the king of Erellod, or worse sent back to my stepfather, Edred, who’d severely discipline me before selling me off in marriage.