Chapter Thirty-Three
Taryn
When I woke again, it was to cool fingers smoothing something over my cheek and the immediate awareness that it wasn’t Rhydek touching me.
I knew he was nearby before I opened my eyes, the bond anchored him to me even when I couldn’t feel the weight of his hand or the heat of his body, so I knew I wasn’t in danger.
He sat close enough that his tail was still wrapped around my leg, as if he couldn’t handle not touching me even when the doctor needed to treat me.
His emotions were quieter than before, no longer the suffocating flood of panic that had poured into me before, but they weren’t calm.
Fear still lingered beneath everything, woven through relief and the rough-edged tenderness he seemed incapable of hiding anymore.
I forced my eyes open, blinking past the blurriness until pale amber eyes came into focus above me. For a disorienting moment I thought a giant owl was staring down at me, until I realized it was the Qy’shaeuhl who had travelled with us.
He tilted his head in a way that definitely matched his avian appearance, wide gaze intent as he studied my face while he spread another layer of salve over my torn cheek.
“It is good that you are awake.”
His voice was soft and melodic. I tried to respond, but all I could do was cough. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand, which was probably accurate.
Pain pulsed through my abdomen in a deep, ugly throb, joined by a burning pull in my cheek and shoulder. My head felt like it was floating above me, and for a moment all I could do was wonder why it hurt more now than it had when I woke before.
“I’m not sure I agree.”
The tiny feathers around his eyes shifted, his cheeks fluffing like a content bird when I finally managed to speak.
“It is better than the alternative.”
Movement to my right drew my attention. A Morraki stood beside a low table cluttered with bandages, bowls, and little stoppered bottles of liquid in shades that looked more appropriate for painting than healing.
He glanced over, a hint of glow flaring beneath his shirt before he returned to grinding something with a stone pestle.
I shifted, trying to relieve a cramp in my back, and immediately regretted it. Burning pain shot through my stomach and shoulder, forcing out a gasp as Rhydek lurched to his feet with a snarl and shoved the Qy’shaeuhl aside.
“Don’t move.”
The command came out harsh, but I knew he was still scared of losing me. Our bond carried the weight of it, making me feel guilty even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I turned my head carefully, meeting his golden eyes.
He might have looked worse than I did, sand crusted to his uniform where my blood had soaked into it.
I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but he clearly hadn’t left my side.
There were dark hollows beneath his eyes, and some of his hair had escaped the tight braid he always wore to hang free around his temples.
My chest tightened and I took hold of his hand, giving his fingers a squeeze.
“Got it. Won’t try that again.”
His jaw flexed, his kethra rippling as he heaved a sigh and moved over so he wasn’t blocking me anymore. The healer finished spreading the goo on my shoulder and then stepped back, giving Rhydek room to return to my side without making it seem like he was doing it on purpose.
“You may sit up now, but not if you insist on doing it yourself. Your abdominal muscles are still healing and will be weak through the rest of the day.”
I huffed softly, fighting back a rueful smile that tried to pull at the torn side of my face.
“The rest of the day? I thought I’d get at least a week of recovering for a gut wound.”
Rhydek’s brows creased at my poor attempt at a joke, but the Qy’shaeuhl’s feathers fluffed again.
“Not with the healing capabilities my kind have shared. A day is enough to heal most wounds, although it may take longer to erase the marks.”
“No!”
The attack played in my head in broken flashes. A shadow moving too fast. The pressure of a body slamming into me. The strange disbelief of seeing the knife handle jutting from my shirt before the pain caught up.
My hand trembled inside Rhydek’s and his eyes narrowed.
“What is it?”
I almost said nothing. Almost did what I always did and swallowed it down because I was alive, I’d survived, and there was no point in dwelling on what could have happened.
But I was starting to think that mindset was exactly how I’d gotten here.
“I keep seeing it,” I admitted. “The blade. His face. I keep thinking I should have reacted sooner and stopped him somehow.”
The confession was sour on my tongue, but there was no judgment in the bond from Rhydek. Only an immediate wave of fury that wasn’t mine.
“You were not the one who failed.”
I took in the severity in his expression and the old wound his fear had ripped open.
“You still think it’s your fault.”
His silence was answer enough.
The healer’s voice drifted over from the table, calm and practical.
“Guilt is often mistaken for penance. One believes that carrying it honors the dead or protects the living.”
Rhydek’s eyes flashed toward him, but the Qy’shaeuhl didn’t look up from what he was mixing.
“It does neither,” he continued. “It only teaches pain how to make a home within the mind.”
For a long moment, no one spoke, and then the healer brought up my wounds again.
“Would you clarify, are you refusing treatment?”
My focus snapped to the healer, making my cheek scream with a fresh wave of pain as the skin pulled. I knew most people would have wanted the evidence of what had happened erased, but the thought of hiding the proof of what I’d been through felt like denying there had also been some good from it.
I thought of Rhydek’s scars and the way he’d looked at my torn cheek and said it made me look fierce. I thought of my blood on the sand, Zharrek roaring over me as he showed more loyalty than anyone would have given him credit for.
I remembered locking the varku back in his cage so Rhydek wouldn’t kill him before he knew it was Zharrek who saved me, and I thought of how close I’d come to losing everything I had only just begun to realize I wanted.
Surviving had changed something between Rhydek and I, and pretending it had never happened was impossible.
“No, but I don’t want to erase the scars.”
The Qy’shaeuhl’s head tipped to one side then the other.
“Proper muscle function is important, but I should be able to assure that without preventing it from scarring.”
Keeping myself from nodding or smiling, I tried to convey my gratitude.
“Thank you. For everything.”
Feathers twitching, he dipped his head before turning away. Rhydek was still giving me an odd look, but when I lifted my arm, he leaned down to put his beneath me.
“See, I can be stubborn and sensible at the same time.”
His huff gusted against my neck, sending goosebumps radiating down my arms.
“I have not seen proof of that.”
The dry reply pulled a startled laugh from me, which sent a stab of pain through my stomach. I was scared to sit up, but with Rhydek supporting me so my muscles didn’t have to do the work, the laugh turned out to be what was more painful.
“Okay, rule number one, no being funny until tomorrow.”
The confusion on Rhydek’s face almost made me laugh again, but I suppressed the urge as Rhydek adjusted the pillows behind me.
His leather and pine scent was laced with a bitter edge and the metallic tang of blood, but it was still soothing to get a breath of it amidst the more clinical smells of the room.
I let out a slow breath, waiting for the dizziness caused by moving to settle and trying to assess how bad everything was.
My stomach was tightly bandaged beneath a clean sheet so I couldn’t see it, but my shoulder and upper arm were exposed, and the salve that had been smeared over them gave my skin a neon orange tinge along the edges of the slice.
Deep red was visible down the center where my skin had separated, and I swore I could see movement, as if it were stitching itself back together.
While the professional side of me was awed, thinking about how useful the salve might have been to the dogs I’d cared for, watching it happen to my flesh made my stomach twist.
I couldn’t see my cheek, but it felt swollen and stiff. I knew he’d smeared the same salve on it, and I lifted my hand toward it without thinking.
Rhydek caught my wrist, keeping his hold loose but shaking his head.
“Leave it. You can touch once its healed a bit more.”
Frowning at him, I shoved aside the building worry and glanced around the room.
I hadn’t been conscious when I arrived, and I had no idea where I was.
Rhydek had told me once that the Kethral, the Morraki version of doctors, worked in the River Caverns, but the air felt too dry and warm for us to be that deep in Korvashan.
The walls were the same reddish stone I’d grown familiar with, but they’d been softened by woven hangings, and shelves carved into the walls were lined with bundles of herbs, bowls of powders, and tools so precise they looked like they belonged in a laboratory, not what was essentially a cave.
Light from crystals set in the ceiling cast a pink glow over everything, but there were also light bars on the ceiling above the table that made the room brighter than was usual on Morrakan.
“So, I guess I’m dying less dramatically now?”
Rhydek let out a low growl even though I felt a thread of amusement from him, but it was the Qy’shaeuhl who answered.
“You are not dying at all. The abdominal wound needed several applications of salve and rest to repair things properly, but a scan showed your internal organs are whole once more. The damage to your cheek and shoulder was less serious, but the healing was slightly more complex. Blood loss will be the only lingering issue. You were fortunate your mate brought you straight here.”
Mate.