8. Bounty hunters #2
Isolde busied herself with the horses and their supplies whilst the others searched the bodies.
They moved some distance away from the blood-drenched clearing and made camp.
Shame flooded her every time she thought about the way she had reacted to the sight of the dead, but none of her three companions brought it up.
Even Felix didn’t joke about it or tease her, which was both a bit of a surprise and a relief.
She sat a little apart from the others, wrapped in her cloak, her knees pulled up under her chin. The scent of blood and bile still clung to her hair and clothes. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Felix rolling up a bloodied sleeve, and dabbing at his arm with a piece of wet cloth.
Isolde was on her feet before she realised what she was doing. “You’re hurt!” she blurted out, staring at the jagged cut.
Felix looked up at her nonchalantly. “It’s just a scratch.”
“It looks awful,” she said, kneeling beside him.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Can you pass me that bandage?”
Instead of handing it to him, she took the cloth from his hand and continued cleaning the cut.
Finally, there was something she could do.
The injury wasn’t deep, but it still made her skin crawl.
She gingerly wiped away the dried blood, and he didn’t protest. When she risked a glance up, his eyes were very warm, and very dark .
She bit her lip, then looked away. Luella watched her curiously, the arrow she was fletching forgotten in her lap.
She refocused on her task, acutely aware of Garren and Luella’s gazes on her.
When Felix noticed, his expression turned to faint amusement.
Isolde ignored all three of them, finished cleaning the cut, then tied a bandage around Felix’s arm.
It wasn’t as neat as a real healer’s work, but probably still better than he could have done himself with one hand.
“I didn’t know you had healing knowledge,” Luella said archly.
Isolde felt her cheeks heat. “I don’t. I’ve just… read a lot. Books on medicine and anatomy. It was my favourite subject for a while. To understand how the body works.”
“I’m sure your understanding is excellent,” Felix said, in a voice so low and gravelly it was almost a purr. She jerked her head up in shock, and his eyes sparkled with mirth.
Garren loudly cleared his throat. “Lady Isolde should not have to do that. Patch yourself up next time.”
“I insisted,” Isolde said primly. “Let me be helpful, Garren, please.”
“She insisted,” Felix repeated, grinning at Garren. “And now we’ve got that out of the way – have you ever had liquor before, Isolde?”
That startled her. “What? I – no. Just wine.”
“Well, then.” He went to rummage through his pack and returned with a mysterious-looking bottle.
Felix poured two cups and handed one to Isolde. She sniffed it, wrinkled her nose, then took the smallest of sips. It burned all the way down.
Triad above. She tried her best not to cough, which made Felix laugh. “Enough of that and everything hurts a little less,” he offered.
The disapproval on Garren’s face crystallised into a scowl. Felix waved the liquor in his and Luella’s direction. “Drink?”
Garren narrowed his eyes but eventually held out his hand for the bottle. Felix passed it over without a word.
“No, thanks,” Luella said as she got to her feet. “I’m going to get some sleep. I’ll take third watch.” She disappeared into her tent.
Isolde took another small sip. It had not improved .
“So,” Felix said after a while, leaning back against a log, “how’d you do that today? With the flower?”
Garren raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.
The question took her by surprise. After the encounter with the bounty hunters and all the blood and death, she’d almost forgotten about the Aether Lilies.
How had she done it? There had been a thread.
She’d somehow poured her magic back into the flower, and it had returned a spark of life to it, though it had taken an incredible amount of effort.
Would she be able to do it again? “I wish I knew,” she said with a sigh.
“There was a connection of sorts. The memory is a little blurry.”
Are you a scholar or not?
What was she doing, sitting here, drinking?
She’d done something amazing. It needed to be documented, explored, replicated.
Maybe she couldn’t protect herself from men with swords, but she should at least try to protect herself, and her companions, from her own magic.
Learn about it. Study it. Isolde leapt to her feet with a sudden spark of resolve she had not felt in a long while.
“I should write down everything I can remember,” she said, “before I forget any more of it.”
“It’s a blessing nothing worse happened, my lady,” Garren said as she walked away. “I think it would be best if you didn’t try something like that again.”
He may as well have slapped her. Her shoulders slumped, and she felt herself deflate. She gave a small nod, then left. Maybe he was right, and it was better to contain it as best as she could, and leave it at that. Even if it wasn’t what she wanted.
But when she reached her tent, she heard Felix speak in a low tone.
“Why would you discourage her?”
“Would you encourage a child to play with knives, or with fire?” Garren’s rumbling voice replied.
“She is not a child.”
Silence, then a sigh. “We don’t know what this magic can do. To us, but more importantly to her. I would rather keep her safe.”
“She is already not safe.” Felix made a dismissive sound. “And she’s not stupid. She might as well own it. ”
“We’ll agree to disagree. I’ll take the second watch.
” Rustling noises told her Garren had just stood up.
Isolde hurried into her own tent. She let the canvas fall closed behind her and sat down on her bedroll, her heart racing.
Garren’s words still stung, but the hurt of them was now offset by the knowledge – and the warmth – that Felix, at least, believed in her.