34. Ash
Ash
Imight have died. Am I dead?
My heavy eyelids won’t lift, so I sniff out the place. Incense laced with a chemical burn that reminds me of alchemy hits my gut. I pinch my lips to stop from vomiting. Do dead people vomit? I doubt it, but nobody knows for sure, so I can’t say.
A sharp pain stabs my temples. It feels like someone is trying to crack my skull open with a dull blade. I wish they’d use a sharper knife and end it already. This misery isn’t for me. I’m either alive or not. Fuck this. I try to sit up, but my stomach lurches.
Gently, someone directs my head, and I empty my belly into a container rather than on myself.
“Easy there, killer,” a woman says. Not Runa. Maybe it’s the Stormcrest healer.
I inhale, seeking her scent, but she stuffs my nostrils with gauze that smells like mint. It forces me to breathe through my mouth. I try to lift my hand to remove the gauze, but I can’t even do that.
Am I restrained? Oh, hell, no.
I jerk left and right, but can’t break the restraints. Probably because I’m weak. I hate being weak. My damn eyelids won’t open. It’s as if there’s something holding them down. Is there? Did she glue them shut?
“Release me at once,” I order. Even my voice sounds weak.
“Not yet.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Belda Kissimore. I’m a healer.” She peels back my eyelids. Apparently, I’m so drained, I can’t see on my own. A face hovers over me, the blur making it difficult to discern. If I weren’t restrained, I’d rub my eyes.
Growling, I thrash against the restraints and snarl at her. “You better kill me while you can or run when I recover.”
“Shut up, Ash, she’s trying to save your life.”
“Blade?”
“Mmhm. He can’t see me,” he says to the healer.
A warm, wet cloth wipes the fog off my eyes, and I blink, making out Blade’s face. Beyond him is a cloth ceiling that’s painted with motifs of the lunar cycle, wolves, and elements.
“Where am I?”
“In bed fighting the poison in your body,” the woman says.
I lift my head a notch, and the dull knifelike stabbing pain raises the bile in my belly.
A clean bucket appears in front of me. I use it. The liquid that comes out of me is pale green, almost gray. I taste alchemy, but something else too. Gunpowder?
“Yes, but where?”
“You’ve almost cleared the poison,” she says. “Don’t hold back. Your gut will get rid of the alchemy they poisoned you with.”
Memories slowly drift back. Runa arriving at the baths to warn me that her brother will attack. Him attacking. Us fighting to the death. Shit. If I’m alive, that means he’s dead. “Is Soren Stormcrest dead?”
“No,” Blade says. “He’s recovering with his healer.”
“And nobody else was hurt? Are you sure?”
“If you’re asking about Maren and Runa, they’re both fine.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m disappointed that Runa isn’t here doting on me when I’m this sick, but it is what it is. Maybe she hates a weakling. I know I can’t stand myself right now. Lying on this bed, restrained, throwing up, in pain.
I inspect my arm. It’s wrapped in gauze, but I’m aware Soren ripped out chunks of flesh in at least two places. The healer restrained me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. I acknowledge that. Yet I hate it.
More memories drift forward. “Sven shot us. That motherfucker poisoned me.”
“That’s correct,” Blade says, then hovers over me again, his brow furrowed.
“Quit worrying,” I say. “I feel fine, but I should be sleeping as a wolf, not being treated in my bipedal form. What happened?”
“She can’t heal you in wolf form.”
Ah. “Are you my new Regulator?”
“No,” she says.
Ever speak with anyone who says two words and continues about their business without telling you much of anything, and the conversation feels like you’re pulling teeth?
This is what it feels like conversing with this woman and Blade.
He’s unusually quiet. I’m worried when he’s worried.
Best friends vibe, and his vibes are rubbing off on me.
“Werewolf healers use herbs, not alchemy. What kind of a healer are you?” I ask.
Silence.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
“The only thing that matters is that you purge the alchemy out of your system. We will know it is purged once your sweat is clear and your bodily functions return to normal. Until then, you’re at risk of multiple organ failure.” The healer jabs something into my side.
Ouch! “A little warning.”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Blade tells me.
“She stabbed me.”
“It’s a tiny cut.” She stabs my belly again.
Double ouch. I don’t yelp because Blade would never let me live this down.
“Send word that I want to see the Stormcrest Alpha. Tell him I’m going to tear that Regulator to pieces and feed them to the Peacebroker when he arrives for dinner tonight.”
“The Stormcrest Alpha isn’t coming,” Blade says.
“If I have to get up and go to him, I can’t guarantee he’ll survive. His son attacked me. Unprovoked. His Regulator shot me with lethal poison.”
“It would kill an ordinary wolf instantly,” the healer says. “I’ve collected enough silveren from your blood to kill a hundred wolves.”
“What’s silveren?” Blade asks.
“A chemical that binds silver and makes it spread through the blood faster than a silver bullet.”
“I think you’re ready for the cleanse.” Something pricks my side. This isn’t so bad. The cold liquid she’s injecting is pleasant.
“If you’re putting out my element with this, there’s no need. Whatever he injected me with dulled the fire.”
“I know.”
My blood turns cold. Ice cold. My teeth chatter. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m going to heal you, whether I like you or not. But I’ll tell you this. Your fire killed everyone I know.”
Ah, fuck. “I’m sorry.”
Silence again.
“I said I’m sorry.”
“I heard you.”
I clamp my jaws together so my teeth don’t chatter as my body shivers uncontrollably.
“Are you sure this is going to help him?” Blade asks.
She better be sure!
“No,” she says.
“Nnnnnn oooo?”
“I’ve never had to heal a wolf who holds fire. He’s the only one.”
“That’s fair,” Blade says.
“If I die in Stormcrest territory…” I lick my lips. “The fire will jump into another wolf. I have no heir. Gather my pack mates in case I die, so when the fire jumps—”
“The fire won’t jump,” the healer says. “Because you will live.”
“I thought you said you weren’t sure if this would heal me.”
“I have faith in your moon.”
“You mean the Moon,” Blade corrects her.